Creation Ranch 17

After the final clash Eric shows up at my apartment.

Chapter 17:  Visitor

 

 

Someone shot the deadbolt lock on my front door.  I heard it fall in pieces on the floor.  Being the brave, cunning, victim I am I immediately stopped typing and hid under my bed which was barely high enough for me to fit under, wishing I had the right and the sense to buy a gun.  Then I whipped out my cellphone and punched in 9 1 1.

Someone answered immediately but I thought I heard someone already in my bedroom.  I dared not move or make a sound, and so looking was not something I could readily accomplish, but I did manage to see a couple of cowboy boots between my bed and the dresser as I wished I had at least closed my laptop as his boots walked to the bed and paused a long quiet pause. 

‘Was he reading my book, my newest novel, and ironically the one you are reading now?’ I remember verbalizing in my mind.  ‘Is that all this was; a fan, a stalker breaking into my home to read my stuff or just to see how I lived?’ I questioned in silence as he leaned over the bed and clearly picked up the laptop only to smash it on the floor and then go into the other room.

I whispered into the cell, “9 1 1?” and, when I heard a woman’s voice say something I did not understand I said very quietly, “This is John and I know someone is in my apartment for I saw their boots on my bedroom floor for I am hiding under my bed.”  Then I told her the rest of my name and address and broke the connection.

The burglar must have heard me or at least wondered if he did for he returned to my bedroom, kicked the laptop, on the floor, so that it went under the bed farther toward me.  It was still on and working fine apparently.  I didn’t dare touch it, thinking he might see it move and discover my hiding place.  He went through my drawers, and tossed everything on the floor, took the back of his forearm and cleaned off the dresser so that all of the stuff on top fell.

‘Tigee?’ I thought, ‘Where was my cat?  Had he hurt her and I never knew?’ 

She suddenly joined me in my hiding place as if she could read my mind.  She had a very upset look in her eyes, and I wanted to lie to her, and tell her it was okay, when she bolted out underfoot of the intruder.

The intruder suddenly stopped what he was doing as the cat ran through the room out to the couch probably, letting out a loud yowl as she did.

“Damn cat,” the intruder said and for some reason I thought of Eric Havoll?

Then I heard him go into the dining/living room area and dump one last drawer on the floor, and that is when he must have done it.  That is when he must have scrawled a note and pinned it to my table with a hunting knife which he left behind.

I waited for the police to arrive which was surprisingly quite a while even then.

They knocked on the door.  I slid out from under the bed, wondering how that had worked and realizing there was no place else to hid in my apartment but the pantry which need only to have one open the door and I would have been found.  I went to the door, however and lifted the calendar and looked out the peephole, and finally let them in.

“Do you actually live here?” the younger more slender cop asked apparently recognizing me.

I nodded and said, “I like it here!” and looked about the rooms which were in shambles except for the table where a knife stood up, stuck in the table top.  I started toward the knife, knowing it did not belong to me just as the other cop spied it and immediately moved in front of me so I couldn’t even see it let alone remove it.

“I take it someone else did this?” the first cop said looking around.

I nodded.

“What was he looking for?  Do you have any idea?”

I shrugged and said, “I don’t really have anything of value, unless he intends to steal my identity?”

“At least you recognize that possibility,” the cop said as the other cop handed him the letter.

The first cop read it and handed it to me as he introduced himself and his partner.

I was still so shook up I didn’t pay any attention, a bad habit I have.

The note read, “I’ll be back,” and it was signed, “Eric from Creation Ranch.”

Both cops, I forget their names, stood with me while I read and afterward while I tried to absorb what was going on.

“Where is this Creation Ranch?” the first cop asked as the other cop faded in the background somewhere in my bedroom.  I could hear him talking to someone and by instinct alone I tried to hear what it was while listening to the cop there in my dining/living room area.

“Creation Ranch,” I repeated coming to myself as if it were unfamiliar to me before it finally registered and I said, “It’s the title of a Western I was writing as he broke in.  He shot my lock in two or something and walked right in.”

“You too heard a shot?”

“Yes, it’s a little hard not to hear it in here, don’t you think?”

“I imagine it was very loud, but what did you do when you heard the sound?”

“I slid under the bed, and called for reinforcements,” I said feeling a lot safer now.  “I was in my bedroom when he did it.”

“Do you know this Eric from Creation Ranch?”

“He’s a character in my book,” I said, wishing I had Googled his name, “Eric Havoll, to be exact.”

“Who would use one of your character’s names and the title of your book to identify himself apparently expecting you to know who he was by using it?”

I shrugged. 

“Some fan?”

“How could it be a fan, you haven’t even finished the book yet, right?”

“That is sort of right.  I am writing it online.  People do know the book, and three, or four dozen I suppose have read it by now, one of them might be a little inclined to … what is this …?  I mean, is he a stalker, a thief, a critic …?  But what I really want to know is how do I keep him from coming back?  Do you use surveillance in such a case as this?”

“No sir?  We probably will not be doing a stake out in this case,” the officer said seriously as the other cop nearly laughed as he returned to where we were.

“Any suspects?” the first cop asked right in front of me.

The other one nodded.

“Do you know a man who goes by the name, Eric Havoll?”

“No, the only Eric Havoll I know is a character in my latest novel, which is a Western.”

“Do you know anyone who would dress up in authentic western wear and call himself by that name?”

“No sir?”

“Hold him on suspicion of breaking and entering,” he said turning his head ever so slightly as he did.

“What?” I said.

“A man in authentic western wear claiming to be Eric Havoll but possessing no ID at all was arrested walking away from the apartment building.  I have to ask you to come to the station with us.  I would like to see whether he is familiar to you.  It is exceedingly rare for someone to trash somebody’s place without knowing the person involved?”

I should think so, but what am I to do with my stuff while my lock is being fixed?

“I can keep an eye on it for you,” a friend said through the door as he opened it and walked in with a swagger.

“Would you?” I asked and handed him my cell.  “You have to punch up all the numbers on 9 1 1 and don’t be afraid to use it.”

He looked at me and repeated what I said, and then he said to the police officers, “There is no reason for concern I will watch his property and the landlady and a maintenance person are on the way over as we speak.”

I went with the police to the station not more than a block away, found I did not know the man and have not heard how he came out, and quite frankly I did not want to know. 

‘I just don’t want you coming back whoever you are!’ I was thinking as I lay on my bed with my laptop on my stomach.

I powered on again, and opened the file with my current books in progress in it, and the one labeled by the name I placed Creation Ranch in and opened the document which contained everything you have read so far in it, except …

If you really are Eric Havoll, you will return to your place there in the field just outside the fort in Creation Ranch, never to return to me again.

Author's Note

Sorry it took so long to get back to this one and my first preliminary edit, I had a time consuming distraction I did not plan.

Reviews

[John Fredrick Carver]

So far this is only a proposed chapter and may go the way of previous chapters like this I took out as you may remember. I don't know whether I included them online at all. But the chapter above is something I have been looking at as a way to leave the cliffhanger in there I have several resolutions for but don't find any of them entertaining to me ... so if it is too off the wall for you, you might just let me know and it may influence what I do with the book. My main purpose in writing westerns is to pretend I am normal and thus involve myself in more normal stories which this has not really qualified as in the first place. Has it?