Page 23 of Whistle
“Do I know how to spoil the mood, or what? I’m laying all this on you, and that’s just not right.”
“No, it’s okay. Really.”
“I get talking and there’s no stopping me.”
“Really, I don’t mind. So,” she said slowly, trying to make conversation, “the people who lived here before were photographers.”
“Yup.”
“What kind of photography?”
Daniel screwed up his face. “Not sure, exactly. Think they did different kinds of things, whatever paid the bills. Weddings, nature stuff. Did a couple of picture books of the Hudson Valley, the Finger Lakes.”
“Where’d they move to?”
Daniel slowly shook his head. “Don’t know. They didn’t even tell me they were moving. One day they were just gone. Didn’t even pack up their own stuff. Moving truck came a few weeks after they left, cleared the place out without them even being there.”
Annie had become curious. “When was this?”
“Five, six years ago. They never did sell the place. Well, they did, but they sold it to the real estate people, and they’ve been renting it out off and on since then. Been some seasons it just sits empty, which is a shame, nice house like that. But they’ve kept it up good. That woman who was just visiting you? She looks after it.”
“I wonder why they left. The photographers.”
A shrug. “People get restless. But not me. Built that house. Not leaving.”
Annie smiled. Daniel was starting to grow on her. They were both quiet a moment. Daniel broke the silence. “I imagine, coming here from the big city, it’s a tad quieter.”
She managed a weak chuckle. “I could hardly get to sleep last night without all the sirens and garbage trucks and what have you. You get used to all that background noise, and can’t manage without it. I’ll have to get a white noise app for my phone or something.”
Daniel looked puzzled, but didn’t ask for an explanation.
Annie said, “I did love hearing the train, though.”
“Train?”
“Woke me up, can’t remember when, exactly. But it was... I don’t know how to describe it. It was acomfort.”
“You had to have heard something else,” he said.
“Oh, I know what a train sounds like,” she said. “Must have been on those tracks, just up that way.” She pointed.
“Yeah, that would be the old A&B. The Albany & Bennington. Small railroad, went out of business some time ago. Nothing’s runon those tracks for several years now. Have a look, you’ll see the top of the rails are rusted. You got a train running on it, it keeps the rail tops shiny. There’s been talk of pulling them up altogether and making it a hiking trail, given that it’s fallen into disuse. You must’ve heard a truck.”
Annie considered that. “Maybe so,” she said quietly. It wasn’t worth an argument. She knew what she’d heard. She might be from the city, but she wasn’t an idiot.
“I best be off,” he said, slowly rising from the chair. “It’s been nice talking with you.”
“A pleasure,” she said, offering a hand. She stayed on the porch and watched until he had crossed the road and gone back into his own house.
Six
“That is one fucked-up story,” Finnegan said. He’d phoned Annie not long after she had emailed him a thank-you for setting up the house, and listened to the tale of the man from across the road. “Now I feel like I should have found you someplace different.”
“It’s okay,” Annie said. “I shouldn’t even have brought it up, but it was too strange not to share. I mean, it happened a long time ago. More than a couple of decades.”
“But still, if I’d had any clue... Candace certainly didn’t mention it.”
“Why would she? Someone had a medical event in the house. How many houses can you think of where something like that hasn’t happened? That’s life.”
