Old James Ragner

Old James Ragner doesn't like people. He loves his wife but spends most of his time alone. He does strange things for no reason. People avoid him mostly, expect for Jimmy, the town bully.

Old James Ragner’s basement echoed as he worked. The wielding torch he held hissed and popped as it touched the edges of a small box together. Ragner’s eyes watered from the smoke of the torch. He rubbed at them but it didn't seem to help. An old grandfather clock in the corner ticked and donged away, telling Ragner that it was almost lunch time. The basement smelt of dust and mould. It was full of junk and had been leaking since the day Ragner and his wife moved in. Something he had meant to fix but never did.

He placed his wielding torch down on the bench beside him. The metal box was sturdy and wouldn’t break until it needed to. The box he placed onto the bench in front of him. He picked up a large pale yellow brick labelled C4 and placed it into the box. A perfect fit. Taking the red wire he fiddled and twisted until it was right. The same with the blue wire.

Ragner pushed back from the desk and stood to retrieve yellow wire. The basement was dark. It made it hard for Ragner’s old eyes to see but he had memorised where everything was. He didn't need light to find his way around. The small flickering light of the basement made Ragner notice the fallen over stool. He frowned. When had he knocked it over? He shrugged his shoulders and picked it up. He chucked it onto a stack of other broken chairs in the corner. It landed with a thud and a crack. He had broken it. Ragner shrugged again. He didn't care. His wife probably would though.

The old stool was from his wife’s latest attempt at redecorating their house. She wanted a more country style, something warm and homely she had told Ragner. He had warned her that within a matter of days she would hate it. She hadn’t listened and a week later there was a whole bunch of new crap in Ragner’s basement.

It was the same with the yellow table in the corner. It was from Ragner’s wife’s yellow haul. She went out and started buying lots of things that were yellow. Most of it had ended up in the basement. This was useful though. The table stored all of Ragner’s bits and pieces. Screws. Nails. Wire. All of the small things you wouldn’t want to lose. The table was worn and chipped. The yellow paint was more of a pale vomit colour now.

Ragner found the piece of yellow wire he wanted and turned back to his desk. The water dripped down a leaky pipe to his left. The dishwasher had just finished. Soon lunch would be served. Ranger sat down and fiddled and twisted with the yellow wire until it was right. He slipped the top of the box on and slipped it into the bottom of a draw. His son wouldn’t find it there.

Standing from his seat the door to the basement opened and a beam of light lit up the bottom of the splintered and rotten stairs. Another thing he meant to fix. When had the stairs gotten that bad? Ragner’s wife hollered out, “James Ragner your lunch is ready!”

Ragner frowned. “I’m not death woman.”

“Don’t call me woman.”

Ragner rolled his eyes. “Well you aren’t a man.”

 

 

 

In the kitchen Mrs. Ragner placed a plate and a glass of orange juice on the table. On the plate was Ragner’s favourite; his wife’s lasagne. He smiled and took a seat. “Thank you Renee.”

Mrs. Ragner smiled and walked over. She kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome, darling.”

The Ragner’s were a strange couple. Many of their neighbours found them odd and tended to avoid the couple. Ragner was a man that people found unpleasant to talk to. He was negative and wasn't interested in listening to other people’s drama. He wore the same style shirt and pants everyday and liked to follow a routine. Mrs. Ragner was different. She wore brightly coloured dress and big sun hats. She liked talking to people and getting the town gossip. However, Mrs. Ragner liked to give her opinion whether it was welcome or not. Many people tried to avoid her for that.

Children referred to Ragner as the Grinch of Old Oak Street, and Mrs. Ragner as the wicked witch of the street. Children were always trying to get a glimpse of one of them. Or they dared each other to run up to the front door and ring the bell. If you did you were brave indeed; if you were chased out by Mrs. Ragner with her broom than you were a legend.

Parents tried to keep their children from annoying the couple but in their old age Ragner and Mrs Ragner didn’t care. Their son had once been a troublemaker. They understood how children were. But everyone had their breaking point. On occasion Ragner had dragged a child or two down to the police station. They had either left dog crap of his porch or they had defaced his property. When he had figured out which kid it was he made sure they got the scare of their lifetime.

Once Ragner finished his lunch his wife kicked him out into the garden. He was to mow the lawn and pull out the weeds, shape the hedges and cut back the rose bushes. He had plenty to fill his afternoon.

He dragged out their old lawn mower from the garage and filled the tank with petrol. Pulling the cord and the mower spit and spat, before growling to life. He attacked the law, pushing through. Not stopping for anything. When the catcher for the mower was full he stopped. Emptied the catcher, and kept on going.

Once the grass was short and neat Ragner fitted the mower back into the garage. As he grabbed his gardening gloves and his clippers the sound of a squeaky bicycle reached his ears. Ragner turned to see Jimmy Frank riding up the road.

Jimmy Frank was fourteen years old and the troublemaker of the street. His face was covered if bright red freckles and his large nose took up a lot of the space on his face. He was a bully and liked to show the younger kids how brave he was. Jimmy always walked right up to Ragner and talked to him. He showed he wasn't afraid of some old man.

“Mr. Ragner!” Jimmy skidded to a stop.

“What?” Ragner walked towards the hedges.

“Do you like my bike? My brother got a new one so mum let me have his old one.”

Ragner sighed. “Looks like crap to me.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.” Jimmy leaned his bike against the fence. “Mum told me you would say something like that.”

“Why didn’t you listen to her then?”

“Because I know that you will tell the truth whether people like it or not. Just like Mrs. Ragner.”

Ragner frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well the other day, mum was down the shops with my lil’ sis and she was taking to our neighbour Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Hudson was saying how she thought Mr. Hudson was cheating on her and how she wanted to hire a detective to follow him and find out if she was right. Mrs. Ragner was walking past as mum and Mrs. Hudson was talking and Mrs. Ragner said that Mrs. Hudson shouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Hudson was cheating on her because most men would cheat on a woman who looked like her.”

Ragner snorted. His wife certainly had a point about Mrs. Hudson. She wasn't what you would call pretty, well not according to him. Ragner knew for a fact that Mr. Hudson always had a young girl on the side, had for years. Ragner knew that if his wife looked like Mrs. Hudson he certainly wouldn’t want to be taking her to bed.

“Do you need help with your work, Mr. Ragner?” said Jimmy.

Ragner frowned. “What?”

“Your gardening. Do you need help?”

Ragner shook his head. “No. I’m fine.”

“Well in that case I’m going to show off my bike. Bye Mr. Ragner.” Jimmy grabbed his bike and rode off. Ragner watched him until he disappeared around the corner. Like his mother, Jimmy was a gossip. He always listened to his parents talking about their neighbours and liked to tell his friends about what the adults were up to. Jimmy also tended to mention to Ragner if he or his wife were the topic of conversation. They hadn’t been for some time.

 

 

 

Ragner left his wife to finish the dishes after dinner. He’d kissed her head and thanked her for the lovely meal before retreating to his basement. He descended the old stairs and sat down at his desk. He pulled out the small box. Opening it once more he connected the timer and made sure nothing was faulty.  

The light flickered as Ragner focused on connecting the detonator. His fingers shook slightly as he connected the last wire and secured it in place. Closing the box he sealed it shut and stood from his seat. He took an old bag that was hanging from the hook and placed the box in the bag.

He walked back up the stairs and found his wife sitting in the living room.

“Renee, I have to go and pick up a few things.”

Mrs. Ragner turned to look at him. “Would you like some company?”

“No, it’s okay dear.” Ragner leant down and kissed her head. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Well okay, oh but stop in at the supermarket and gets some fresh eggs will you. We are running low.”

Ragner nodded. “Sure.”

Grabbing his coat off the hook, Ragner grabbed his car keys.

Ragner drove down to the old school. It was a small and run down building. It had been abandoned after a teacher tried to burn it down with his students inside. They shut it down and all of the kids had to catch the bus to the next town over to go to school.

Ragner parked his car and looked around. No one was in sight. Good. Grabbing the bag from the seat he locked his car and walked into the old building. The blast shouldn’t destroy the whole building. Most likely make a small hole in the floor. Well that was what he hoped it would do.

Finding a large open classroom, Ragner placed down the box in the centre. He opened the box and set the timer for two minutes before sinking it with his watch. Ragner left the building. As he approached his car he heard squeaking. Ragner turned and saw Jimmy riding towards him.

“Jimmy, what are you doing here?”

“Mr. Ragner?” Jimmy skidded to a stop.

“You should be at home.”

Jimmy sighed. “I would have been home hours ago by the bike wheels keep locking.”

Ragner frowned. “I said the bike was crap.”

“No need for I told you so.”

Ragner shrugged.

“You fix lots of things. Do you think you could fix it?” Jimmy smiled. A hopeful and pleading look in his eyes.

Ragner sighed. “If I must. Bring it to the house tomorrow. Now get home.”

Jimmy nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Ragner.”

BOOM!

Jimmy screamed and Ragner jumped.

“What the hell was that?” Jimmy held his hands over his mouth.

Ragner rubbed at his chest. Trying to calm his racing heart. Excitement isn't good for the blood pressure according to the doctor.

“Mr. Ragner?” said Jimmy.

Ragner sighed. “Jimmy, go home.”

“Not until you tell me what that was.”

“It was a bomb.”

“A bomb?” Jimmy looked shocked.

“Yes.”

“Why did a bomb go off?”

“Because I set it off.”

“Why?”

Ragner wanted to strangle this kid. The why, why, why was starting to piss him off. “Because I wanted to test it.”

“Why would you test a bomb?”

“I wanted to know if the bomb I built was any good.”

“But why would you build a bomb?”

Ragner groaned. “None of your business. Now, get lost.”

Jimmy frowned but jumped back on his bike.

Ragner should have made sure he kept his mouth shut. By tomorrow everyone would know that old Mr. Ragner set a bomb he made off in the old school. He could always just blow the town up, that way there wouldn’t be anyone to say anything. No, that wasn't a good idea. As much as he hated to admit it, Ragner liked the town, and even some of the people.

Ragner turned back to the school. He hoped the bomb had worked as he had planned.

Author's Note

I would appreciate all helpful comments to improve this story. Whether its description, dialogue, characters, etc. I welcome anything. Thank you for reading.