He had surveilled the residence for several weeks---
what, in the parlance of his youth, had been called
"casing the joint,"; and had done so until he was
fully satisfied that the precision of his plan to
burgle the place was highly likely to succeed, with the
subsequent effect of a distinct change to his life.
He believed that burglary of this magnitude must
proceed rationally, calmly, and with unusual attention to
detail in order to obtain the maximum remuneration. As
with some adolescent's high school report, or a
venerable scientist's life-crowning experiment,
preparation was absolutely key to the process---a
focused plan in which a general intention begins to
clothe itself in specific application---the controlled,
focued main process, and an adequate anticipation of
both human foible and unforeseen circumstance; which
should result, when properly accomplished, in a
maximization of reward and a minimization of frustration.
Failure must be a consideration at every point in order to
prevent both its actualization, and its invitation to chaos. An
example of his dilligence, discovered---unexpectedly---later, was
his careful, repetitive, recorded observation of the known
occupants (all of them accurately identified to his satisfaction)
habits of presence and absence---the latter being much more
prevalent. Those people were, quite frankly, never home;
always gone somewhere---especially at night, for hours---
perhaps drinking, perhaps playing cards somewhere (he did
not believe they were merely carousing---as they always
left and returned together). He was able to determine that
they were not owners; they were renters, and had leased the
property from the surviving relatives of the original
proprietors and occupants. Therefore, no "pride in home
"ownership" (to use a phrase once popular among
appraisers and assessors) motivated their ordinary routines.
They lived with, and among, much of the original furnishings---
which would be, upon the completion of his effort, the
obect of his theft. The library was said to contain several
rare volumes, the values of which---both to scholars and to
more superficial collectors---was staggering. Certain portable
antiques---some dating back as far as statehood, or even
beyond to the revolution---would have feched a lifetime of
wages earned through the more customary occupations. At the
particular hour of his final choosing, under a moonless darkness
that was soon enhanced by a thick, but rainless, cloud cover; and
having waited sufficiently to believe that he would not be
prematurely interrupted, he---masked, sheathed in dark clothing, and
keyed up to anticipate as much as possible of the unexpected,
he entered the building. Its geographical isolation was, for purposes
like his, one of its most attractive features. Situated on a huge
tract of flat plain, upon which little more than noxious weeds, thrived; and
fronting on a poorly constructed, and little traveled, township road (which
received only limited consideration---for inspection, for maintenance---
from the County Engineer). Even the lights of the closest village---
which was not nearby at all (another advantage fpr those who wished to
profit illegally from it)---could not be seen from this location, this
perspective, not even on the clearest of nights. Some might have
thought that the use of technology---primarily the infrared visor he
had put on---might have been a bit of "overkill"; and this opinion
would seem to be verified as the ghosts, the house's horrifically
malevolent and vengeful haunters, surrounded him just as he had
been reaching for the first item of his interest. For all this
belonged to them; they existed, lingering, in this venue that had
been theirs and that, dying in their incessant hatred of the
smallminded people from whom they came, and by whom they
had been surrounded (even at the current distances)---and their
blasphemous refusal to release, or be parted from, the material
wealthy and luxury that they had acquired merely to be able to
say that it was theirs, and that not even death could wrest it from
them. Their moans and groans, their creaks and rattles---the whole
array of the noises and disturbances by which they asserted their
existence (which they believed to be dominant within those walls, and
upon the full extent of the grounds)---compelled the frightened
renters to seek for any activity, offsite, that might, for a little while,
avoid this sort of concerted terror. Shrieking manically, the
spectres gathered and surrounded the now hysterical intruder,
closing upon him as one might close upon a fly or gnat in order to
torment it the more cruelly. Even what little was left to him of his
soul, after nearly three decades of petty purloinings, would be taken
from him and compelled, through the monstrous metaphysics here
operative, to remain until the very atoms of the building's structure had
decayed and separated. The rapidity of this had prevented him from
taking even a trinket from its assigned and customary place. Only his
corpse excited any surprise or shock among those who---in the first and,
therefore, weakest light of dawn---had discovered it upon their
reluctant return. They were particularly aghast at the strange
positions (with respect to his torso) into which his arms and legs had
been twisted---the terror in which his eyes had distended---and the
unforgettable disarray that had disfigured his face.
Starward
you had me cheering for the
you had me cheering for the thief..
i didn't think you would off your main character!!
what a wonderful narrative style
Thanks for that. I guess the
Thanks for that. I guess the ghosts took matters into their own hands, which had been my intention for the poem all along. But I am very glad for your comment; I do appreciate your words.
J-9th94