Revisions to Writer's Workshop Piece

Here is my revised version. I attempted to include a little more detail and clear up the ending a bit. Any feedback would be great!

"No Answer"

I hate the last Monday of the month. That is the day that I have to go around and collect money for my paper route. Asking people for money (especially grownups), even though they know they have to pay, is a little awkward. But, on the other hand, it is also payday for me, so I am very excited this Monday because a new game has been released for my Xbox.

The first few collections go a little easier than usual. Most people have their envelopes completed and ready to go so I do not have to wait and make small talk. Then I get to Mrs. Phillips’ house. She lives alone, and seems to welcome anyone coming to see her. Today she offered me oatmeal raisin cookies, my favorite. She started telling me about her grandson who lives in Florida and is my age. I may add that I have heard the same story every month! Finally, I am able to split away, and head to the farthest houses on my route, Appleby Drive.

Appleby Drive is a dead-end, and my only customer on the street is at the end. Mr. Morris owns a double lot, even though he does not really take care of the second part of the lot. It is a smaller house, green with white trim that needs a fresh coat of paint. There is a porch in the front of the house, but I was told at beginning of my paper delivering career to deliver the papers and pick up the cash at the side patio and door.

When Mr. Morris calls it his patio, I want to tell him to trim the bushes and clean the furniture. The bushes on the side of the house have overgrown the red brick area, and make most people think that no one lives there anymore. I often think this is what he wants people to assume. You know, so he doesn’t have any other visitors. The wrought iron furniture, with cushions missing, is mostly rusted and covered with leaves and sticks.

I really loathe collecting money from Mr. Morris, but I needed the $20 to be able to buy my new game. Jimmy was coming over later to play, and I only had 15 minutes to collect the money and get home so Mom could take me to Best Buy before dinner.

As I approached the patio, I noticed the side door was open, and a light was on behind the screen. Occasionally Mr. Morris was outside filling the birdfeeders, but not today. I peered into the backyard, did not see him, so I knocked on the side door and called his name. “Mr. Morris! Mr. Morris! Paper collection!”

There was no answer. Any other month, and I would come back on Tuesday. I just thought of Jimmy, and how much fun the new game would be tonight. My mom went back to work tomorrow, so if I did not get the game today, it would be the weekend before I would.

I knocked a little harder, and yelled a little louder: “Mr. Morris! Where are you?”

Still no response. I could not face Jimmy without the latest World at War, so I yelled again, and opened the door.

That’s when I heard the first noise. Not a scream, not anything that I could describe, just a noise that offered a glimmer of hope that I might be able to get a new video game today. The light from behind the door was coming from the family room, up a few steps from the doorway.

“What a funky smell”, I said to myself as I walked up the five steps. Sort of smelled like my Grandma’s house, but different somehow. I could smell the familiar aroma of moth balls, but there was also a distinct scent of tobacco, most likely from his pipe he usually has sticking out of the side of his mouth.

The family room was in a state of disarray, but not any different than the outside of the house. It looked like no one had dusted or cleaned up in a while. The walls were covered in yellowish wallpaper with a gold print. There was a large table in the center of the room that was covered in newspapers. When I picked one paper up, thinking that someone actually read the town’s newspaper, I noticed the date was November 22, 1979. The other newspapers on the table were from the late 70’s, but the dates seemed random.

That’s when I heard the noise again. It sounded a lot like hearing someone’s echo from far away. I continued into the living room, where I noticed that the curtains were pulled closed, and the room was dark, except for the glow of the television. As I moved towards the television, the familiar scenes of MASH were causing the glow. My mother watched MASH every night on TVLand, and it seemed just as old as the newspapers.

I had to be home by 3:00, and I did not have my watch. I tried to change the channel to the TV Guide channel, where it reads the time, but some old TV show was on each channel. It was very strange. I felt as if I were sent back in time to when television just started showing in color.

More questions and another echo. At this point, it was pure curiousity that kept me looking and probing for answers. Okay, my money and the game pushed me as well. When I heard this echo, I swore it came from upstairs. As I headed towards the stairs, I heard the mysterious noise again, and I knew for sure: it was coming from upstairs. It seemed more like an angry grunt or growl. I looked up and saw a light at the top of the staircase.

The hard wood floors turned to bright orange shag carpet on the stairs. As I walked upstairs, it was pretty dim. I had no idea how Mr. Morris lived in such a dark house! At the top of the steps, I saw where the light was coming from – a large bedroom.

The bedroom was as disheveled as the rest of the house. Over in the corner of the room was a clothes bureau, half open. As I poked around, I found plenty of clothes that looked at least twice as old as I am. There was no modern technology: no TV, no computer, no iPod alarm clock. There was an old lamp on the night stand, and a really old stereo in the corner. The cabinet next to the stereo was filled with square cardboard sleeves that contained large black discs. The covers of the sleeves had artwork and pictures that looked like album covers, but the black discs inside were at least twice as big as CDs. “America”, the “BeeGees”, “Olivia Newton-John”… Who were these people or groups?

That is when I heard it again, and this time, it was much louder than any other time. It was also more distinctive, and I could definitely tell it was a snarl. I dropped the cardboard sleeves, and ran down the stairs. The growl continued, “Get out of my house!”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran towards the door. The screen door posed no resistance as I flew out of the house. Once my feet hit the red brick of the patio, I heard a loud slam. I turned, and I saw the side door had slammed shut behind the screen and I. I must have come at a dreadful time. Maybe tomorrow will be better?

I guess that Jimmy and I will not be playing a new video game tonight! I’m sure Jimmy will understand my sheer horror from today’s events. We can always try again next weekend. Right now I’m just relieved to make it out of there alive!