Killed Once, Lived Twice by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

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Chapter 2

 

The sun peeked above the horizon in Barbourville, and it was Thursday morning.

In her hotel bed, Abby was sound asleep.

The alarm blared again from the bedside table. 

The digital clock read six-fifteen that morning.

 Abby's book "Snows Of Kilimanjaro And Other Stories" was by the clock. The bookmark moved down a couple of chapters indicating she did some reading last night.

Abby stirred in bed. The alarm continued to blare that annoying sound. 

Abby opened one eye and noticed it was six-fifteen. "Why can't I win lotto?" she said while she threw the covers off her body, sat up then reached over and turned off the alarm.

She got out of bed and yawned while she stretched.

She moped across the room still half asleep while she headed to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later and Abby, dressed in a conservative outfit, and purse in hand, went down the hotel elevator.

She was soon in the lobby having the Holiday Inn's Continental Breakfast. This consisted of a glass of orange juice, oatmeal, and a bagel. She poured a cup of coffee and took it with her when she left for work.

After an enjoyable drive up Shady Hill drive, Abby drove into the main entrance of the Barbourville College.

She parked in the employee parking lot.

Abby got out of her car and headed to the campus buildings with a spring in her step.

Abby walked through the front glass doors of the Science Department building.

She walked down the hallway and passed by numerous students on their way to class. 

Abby walked down to the middle of the hallway and stopped. She looked to the left and saw the wooden door with a glass window. The glass had "Science Department, Dr. Phil Bowman, Dean," in black lettering that looked a little old and started to fade.

She opened the door and went inside her new place of employment.

Abby walked over to her desk to the left of Dr. Bowman's office. It was a lovely wooden desk with an iMac computer.  

"Sweet. An iMac," she said while she placed her purse on the desk then sat down in the desk chair.

The door of the office area opened, and Dr. Bowman entered with a cup of Starbucks coffee in hand. "Good morning, Abby. I see you're here bright and early," he said the second he saw her at her desk.

"Good morning, Doctor Bowman," Abby said then gave him a warm smile.

Dr. Bowman walked over and stood in front of her desk.  

"I've always wanted to try out an iMac," she told Dr. Bowman.

He smiled. "That's the only computer I would use. So, let me drink my morning coffee and get caught up on my emails, then I'll go over your job duties," he replied.

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, call me doc. I'm not old enough to be called sir," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes doc," Abby said then watched him walk off and head into his office.

Abby looked at the iMac and looked a little confused. "Where's the power button?" she said while she looked all over the front of it.

"It's in the back, lower left," Dr. Bowman called out from his office.

Abby felt around the lower left of the iMac then found it. She pressed the button, and the iMac started up. 

It took a few seconds for the iMac to be up and running. Abby started navigating through the iMac to get familiar with the new computer.

An hour passed, and Abby had her meeting with Dr. Bowman, and she started working on typing a few letters in Word.

Dr. Bowman walked out of his office with an old and faded brown leather attaché tucked under his left arm.

"I'm on my way to my class," he said while he walked past Abby.

Abby nodded that she heard him and continued with her typing.

Dr. Bowman walked to the door of the office area. He turned around. "Have you found a place to live yet?"

Abby stopped typing and looked over at him. "I was doing searches on the Internet at the hotel and found a place I'm interested in. So until then, I have a room at the Holiday Inn down the street."

"Well good luck and it's okay if you want to spend a little time here searching on the Internet. Just don't let it interfere with deadlines of any assignments. Also, if you need a little time off to get your car registered and whatnot, we can work that out," he said.

"Thank you, doc."

Dr. Bowman smiled then headed to the door of the office area.

Abby brought up Safari on her iMac and typed in "Homes For Sale in Barbourville, Pennsylvania," in the search block. 

She scrolled at the results of homes for sale.

She stopped on a link and opened it.

It was that small white cottage house with black shutters.

She picked up her desk phone and punched in a phone number from the website.

"Hines Reality. I'm Sally Hines, how may I help you?" she answered Abby's call.

"Yes, my name is Abby Austin, and I'm interested in that home located on twenty-three eighteen Dorothy Avenue."

"Oh yes, that's a charming home. When can I show it to you?"

"I get off work at four."

"Perfect. Come to my office when you get off work, and I'll take you to the listing."

"I will," Abby replied, then hung up the phone. 

She continued to check out that home on the computer. She was really intrigued by the listing.

It was four forty-five that evening.

A white Mercedes Benz, driven by Sally Hines with Abby in the passenger seat, drove down Dorothy Avenue.

Sally turned right into the driveway of that small white cottage home at twenty-three eighteen Dorothy Avenue. She parked in front of the carport.

Abby and Sally Hines got out of the Mercedes.

Sally walked over to Abby's side of the car.

"This neighborhood was built in the twenties, so there's a lot of history around this part of town. Dorothy Avenue curves around the other direction and ends again a little farther south on Woodland Avenue," Sally told Abby.

Abby looked at the home, and it was love at first sight for some strange reason.

"Please follow me," Sally said, then walked off toward the front door. Abby followed.

Sally unlocked the front door, opened it, and motioned for Abby to step inside.

Once Abby stepped inside the living room, she got a strange déjà-vu feeling. It was a warm, loving feeling while she looked the place over.

Sally closed the front door and walked over to Abby. "As you can see, the living room is small but cozy."

"It is."

"Let me show you the kitchen," Sally said then motioned for Abby to head into the archway entrance to the kitchen.

Sally and Abby walked into the kitchen.

"The kitchen has some old appliances but are in great working order."

Abby looked around the kitchen then saw a sliding glass door for access to the concrete porch and backyard. 

She walked over, unlocked then opened up the sliding glass door. She stepped outside onto the concrete porch.

While outside on the porch, Abby looked around the backyard that only had grass without any landscaping. 

Abby glanced over the backyard. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to the right and eyed the neighbor's backyard. 

She saw a stand-alone garage at the back of her neighbor's yard.  She got another strange but warm déjà-vu feeling while she stared at the garage.

Sally stepped in the doorway of the sliding glass door. "The backyard as lots of potential if you like gardening or planting flowers."

Abby gave a little nod to Sally's comment but kept her curious eyes focused on the garage.

The left door of that garage swung opened. 

Abby watched while Michael Osborne, now seventy-six years old, thin and frail stepped out of his garage. There was something about Michael that intrigued Abby.

Michael swung the left garage door closed and locked it with a padlock. He turned around and coughed a horse and wet cough.  When he was done coughing, he glanced over at Abby on the porch. There was something about Abby that really intrigued him.

They both stared at each other for a few minutes.

"Let me show you the rest of the house. It has three bedrooms," Sally said and motioned for Abby to step back inside.

Abby walked over to the sliding glass door.

She started to step inside but looked to her left and took another glance at Michael, who still stood by his garage, always looking at Abby.

Abby went inside the kitchen.

Sally walked to the right in the kitchen to a door. "This door provides access to the carport," she said then opened it.

Abby peeked outside into the carport and didn't have a déjà-vu feeling.

Sally closed the door. "Let me show you the bedrooms."

Sally walked Abby to the left side of the kitchen, where the hallway was located.

They walked down the hallway to the end where the bathroom was located.

Sally took Abby into the bathroom, and it wasn't fancy but clean.

Abby got another déjà-vu feeling like taking a shower when she looked at the tub.

They left the bathroom and went inside the bedroom immediately to the right.

They went inside that bedroom that was located at the rear left corner of the house.

"This is the master bedroom."

Abby had another strange déjà-vu feeling while she looked at the large empty bedroom. But it was a homey déjà-vu feeling that warmed her heart.

Abby walked over to the two windows of the master bedroom. She took a peek outside at the neighbor's backyard. She was curious and saw that Michael was not standing by his garage. 

"This closet is larger than the other bedrooms," Sally said while walked over to the left and opened up the closet door.

Abby turned around and walked over to Sally. She took a glance inside the closet.

"Let me show you the other two bedrooms."

Sally and Abby walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

They walked to the first door to the right and stepped into the second bedroom.

Abby noticed this was a smaller bedroom than the previous one.

Sally walked over to the door and opened it. "The closets are, of course, smaller in the other bedrooms, as compared to the master bedroom."

Abby glanced around the room and had another déjà-vu feeling with the faint sound of little girls. This room has a warmer feel than the master bedroom. 

"Let's see the last bedroom," Sally said while she headed to the door. 

Abby followed her out into the hallway and into the next bedroom across the hall.

"This bedroom is the same size as the other one."

Abby glanced around the third bedroom and did not have a déjà-vu feeling about this room.

"The closet is the same size as the other room," Sally said while she walked over and opened up the closet door.

"Let's go into the living room and chat a little," Sally said then walked to the door.

Abby followed Sally out of the third bedroom and down the hallway and back into the living room.

"How do you like the house?"

Abby glanced around the living room then looked at Sally. "Why did is the owner sell the house?"

"The owner worked at the General Motors plant here in town and got transferred to their plant in Arlington, Texas."

Abby glanced at the doorway that led into the kitchen. "What about the owner before that? Did anybody die in this house?" she asked. Then she wondered why she came up with such a question.

Sally hesitated for a few seconds as that question, caught her off guard. But she was not the type of realtor that kept facts hidden. "I heard that a young girl lived here and she apparently died in nineteen sixty-one. But not in this house, she died from a car accident," Sally replied and silently prayed that wouldn't deter Abby's decision.

Abby took another glance around the living room, and that warm and loving déjà-vu feeling returned. "I'll take it," she said with a smile.

Sally looked surprised, as she figured the answer to the last question would kill her sale. "That was quick."

"I know, but this house just feels like home to me for some strange reason."

"Very good, so let's go back to my office and start the paperwork. Are you able to put some money down?"

"I do. I've been saving for my first home for the past three years," Abby replied.

"Very good. Let's get things started."

Abby had a warm smile while she walked with Sally to the front door.