The house at the end of Ashcroft never rented for long. Some say the landlady would accept almost any shady person to live there, as long as they paid rent on time and kept things quiet. According to local police, the latter would prove to be right two out of three times over the past ten years.
It wasn’t a big place, barely kept in acceptable shape. That was until the last tenant, Mr. Henley, moved in. Bit by bit, weeds had been removed, hinges repaired, boards nailed down, thus losing the decrepit horror vibe.
Besides the more welcoming look of the place, Mr. Henley kept to himself. No one could tell where he went shopping, socializing or if he did anything public at all. The only thing people figured out was that he drove a silver sedan with tinted windows; usually through town once or twice a week and return hours – sometimes, days – later.
For about a year, people felt more at ease passing the quiet house toward the wooded lake park. But even the nosiest church elders couldn’t find an acceptable excuse to show up with a casserole. After three months, it would look mighty suspicious to show up out of the blue. You would want to keep proper, not to appear like you were a Snoopy Susan.
Danny rode his bike one last summer. He had graduated high school and enjoyed what the sleepy town had to offer. The next chapter of his life was coming fast, and college would take him states away.
He did have friends, but most went on well-earned trips, had one last job at the nearby summer camp, or had moved away. Memories included sleepovers, backyard birthday parties, tree houses, building hideouts in the woods, and lots of running.
I could include tales of tie-up games – those did happen. Boys will be boys, and sleepy Coalbrook did not claim modern moral views that are common with big city parents.
Danny did find himself in the occasional bind; never with regularity. He was decent at escaping, but it wasn’t a hobby he liked to advertise. He learned that after Boy-scout Leader Harris was replaced. Some parents took quite an issue with the extracurricular hogtie demonstrations that a few boys, even Danny, found themselves in.
Heading for 19 like most of his peers, one should start to get more serious about life and leave childish play behind. Except, the bondage left an impression on Danny. Not an obsession; then again, his internet history could shed more light on that.
Adolescent exploration was a private thing for Danny. It was more a matter for small-town conformity than for self-shaming reasons. Shy feelings would be a matter for the future. Let’s keep it at that, shall we.
It wasn’t really on his mind as he rode his bike down Ashcroft.
He was dressed in shorts, sneakers, tank-top, ball cap. If you saw him with his blonde hair, red cheeks, incredibly blue eyes, and decent muscle tone, you’d agree: 9 out of 10, imminently tieable. If he flashed his winning smile, a full 10.
The last house came into view. To his surprise, he saw Mr. Henley walk to the mailbox. Danny slowed down, with natural curiosity.
“Hey there.” said the man, looking up from the pack of envelopes as the youth came to a halt.
“You’re Mister Henley?” Danny asked.
“And you are…?” came the friendly, yet surprising response.
“Uhm… Danny Wilder.” he was brought up properly and would reply automatically to such a question.
“Nice to meet you, Danny.” the man said. “I remember seeing you pass by a few times.”
“Yeah, I like to hang out at the lake while I still can.”
The conversation did continue but wasn’t at all impressive. Denny discovered Mr. Henley as a burly man with full beard, tight spandex shirt, cargo shorts, and work boots. His eyes, a dark brown, visible once he moved his sunglasses to the top of his hat.
“I am actually about to move, soon.” Mr. Henley changed topics.
“Wow, why?”
“Found a place to own in New Jersey.”
“I think a lot of people here would hate to see you go.”
“Hm, yeah. Hate to leave. Say, I could use some help packing things up over the weekend. If you want to earn a few bucks...”
It didn’t take much thinking for Danny to seize the opportunity. He wasn’t nosey like Misses Jenkins, but getting to know the mysterious man would give family dinner that extra oomph; even if the side effect was dispelling unfounded rumors and wild guesses about the last house on Ashcroft – and its tenant.
Family dinner conversation was dominated by the obvious topic. As expected, he could spend his last summer as he wished. His parents treated Danny as the young adult he grew into, but he always confirmed his plans with them. Making the extra buck was certainly welcomed by his dad. A good work ethic was essential.
“Well, take your cellphone with, and text me if you’re gonna be later than nine, sweetie.” His mother concluded.
•••
Saturday arrived and Danny returned to Ashcroft. Mr. Henley suggested sneakers as well as long pants.
His attire was now an old and baggy pair of jeans, with frayed cuffs and faded from use. Beat up sneakers and a light, sleeveless hoodie completed the appropriate look.
Mr. Henley expected the young man at noon, and promptly opened the front door, looking not dissimilar than last time; be it as well with a long pair of jeans.
Danny closed the door behind him, standing in the living room. He had heard stories of drug dealers and other, lesser desirables keeping the house like a pigsty, but what he saw surprised him. The place looked a hundred times better, with patched and painted walls, and cheap yet decent furniture.
Mr. Henley was taping various boxes from flat to useful, some already filled with paper-wrapped things. There wasn’t much to deduct his personality from his belongings. They were not unique, and boxes next to empty shelves had their contents already taped shut.
They spent the day boxing up items in neat fashion, taped and labeled. There was conversation, and Mr. Henley got to know his helper. It seemed to Danny that he helped move things along quicker, but his company seemed more important than his muscle. He did learn a few things about Ryan.
Mr. Henley, that is, was single and worked from home as a consultant. He preferred quiet evenings, cooked for himself, and loved jazz. They had common interests like horror and science fiction movies and football – be it opposing teams.
Danny would share most of those details with his mother later.
With one noticeable exception.
They started moving the boxes to the spacious garage. Danny noticed a pair of peculiar handcuffs on the workbench. They looked fancy, old.
He picked them up with intrigue.
“Hiatt,” Ryan said, carrying another box.
“Huh?”
“The cuffs, vintage Hiatt,” Ryan said, arranging the box with others. “Made in the 1840s, not the cheap tin replicas from the 70s.”
“Sweet, they look strange tho.” – “Modern designs are more functional and more difficult to open.”
“What makes these easier?” Danny asked.
“Here.” Ryan produced a key, screwed it into one of the round holes on the side to open, then the other. “Impossible to open with a paperclip, but once you have the key… there, easy.”
“Mind if I try them on?” – “Go ahead…”
Ryan held the open cuffs in front of Danny with a slight smile. They closed with loud clicks around the wrists.
“I’ll get the rest of the boxes.” he told the young man, and placed the key on the workbench. “Knock yourself out,” he added before walking back into the house.
Danny started to twist his wrists slightly, slowly examining the old restraints. They were comfortable, had no sharp edges, and the connecting links in the center allowed for some movement. The keyholes were on the outsides, easy to reach. He tested his range of motion and realized that the cuffs did fulfill their purpose.
Ryan went back and forth, bringing the rest of the boxes into the garage. Danny barely noticed but threw him a sheepish grin when he did. Ryan smiled back but concentrated on the stacking task.
It wasn’t until Danny’s wandering thoughts, too fast to verbalize, caused his excitement to manifest below his belt. He caught himself before he’d stand in plain view with a rather visible bulge.
He grabbed the key from the workbench and shifted his attention to the task of escaping. Opening those cuffs does take many turns of the key. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to finally free his left wrist. The key had to be unscrewed to be used on the other side.
Ryan had finished and stood at a comfortable distance from Danny, observing. The young man had managed to free his wrists again, now unscrewing the key to separate them from the cuffs.
“They’re cool,” he told Ryan as he handed cuffs and key back, trying to hide his excitement. He didn’t want to let on how much he had enjoyed the moment.
“Yes, they are,” confirmed Ryan calmly as he placed the cuffs back on the workbench. “I think we should eat a little. I have some grub and soda... or a beer if you like.”
Danny thought for a second. “Uh, soda’s OK. But thanks.”
He followed Ryan to the kitchen, his mind still with the cuffs. Ryan opened the mostly empty fridge.
“I got some subs. Meatball or pastrami… your call. And if not beer, then lime soda.”
They sat down at the kitchen table with their choices.
“So, not many things to box up then?” Danny continued the conversation.
“Yeah, just a handful of things that I need for the next few days,” replied Ryan, biting into the pastrami.
“Then what’s left to do?”
Ryan chewed, then swallowed as Danny started with his meatball. “Loading, and cleaning.” – “Hm?” - “That’s tomorrow, tho. I want to give this place a good clean.”
He burped quietly and continued, “Leave a place better than you found it. Shouldn’t take us too long, but we’d be done by midnight if we...”
“Oh, shit!” Danny exclaimed. “Hold on.”
He hadn’t noticed what time it was. Ryan paused and watched him pull his phone out of a back pocket.
“Damn.” Danny started typing fast with his thumbs, half his brain concentrating on what he said. “It’s OK, I’m just letting my mom know I’m a bit late.”
“That strict, huh?”
“No, just letting her know that I’m still here.”
Ryan took another bite.
“I can let her know that I’ll stay longer…?” Danny offered.
“Naw,” Ryan said, between chewing, “I think we’ve done all we can today.”
Danny stuffed his phone back into its pocket. He was eager to help, and perhaps eager to at least ask more about the handcuffs – perhaps another chance to wear them. But he didn’t want to push his luck.
Not long after, he went home with a cool $60 in his pocket.
•••
Danny returned the next day, same time. He did notice a gray van backed up to the garage.
“Sold the sedan, it’s too small for all the boxes,” Ryan explained.
They spent the next hour loading the vehicle. Ryan was excellent at storing things. Boxes piled up in the back, stacked at the sides, leaving some space in the middle.
“Just enough for some last things. But that’s later.” Ryan explained. “Let’s clean.” They were both sweating already.
Ryan explained that he had started the day early, getting chores done, and even some cleaning. Danny would have noticed. There was a faint mix of lemon and bleach in the air, and the kitchen and bathrooms seemed spotless.
Ryan insisted on wiping every surface and vacuuming all the carpets. He handed Danny one of the two buckets and pointed out the box with sponges, towels, dust-rags, and gloves.
Once Danny picked up the pace with Ryan, time just flew by. They did take a few breaks, but Ryan did not stop for long before focusing on the next thing to clean.
It took them nearly three hours before Ryan announced his satisfaction.
“We’ve done a good job here,” he concluded, sitting down at the kitchen table and grabbing for his soda.
“I don’t think I’ve cleaned a place so thoroughly,” Danny commented. There was no snippy undertone. He was just very happy to sit down. Ryan was older but seemed to have plenty of stamina for his age.
It wasn’t long before they put everything back into the cleaning box.
“I’ll take the box if you take the vacuum. Those go into the van as well.” Ryan finally announced.
They walked into the garage and put the items in the back of the van. Still with plenty of space to spare.
Danny almost forgot about the handcuffs during the busy day, until he noticed them almost hidden by a black gym bag on the workbench. Fascination had a grip on him, and he seized his moment.
“Can I try those cuffs again?” he asked.
(To Be Continued)
