The House That Had A Gentle Heart - Part 2

Gentle sat up in bed with her composition book in her lap, reading aloud the story she had written at school.

“Once upon a time,” started Gentle, “there stood a sweet little house made of wood."

At the sound of Gentle’s voice the house became quiet and perked up behind its shutters.

“Then one day a little girl and her family moved in. In no time at all they fell in love with the cozy little house and decided that it should have a proper name.”

Although she was alone in her room, Gentle felt as though she‘d suddenly been wrapped in a warm hug. It felt wonderful. She continued with her story.

“The little girl had a brilliant idea and shared it with her parents. Her mom and dad agreed that it was the best idea ever. ‘Great,' said her mom, ‘We’ll pick one up on our way home from work.'

“That night, after dinner,” continued Gentle, “the family gathered at the front door and admired the house’s new door mat. ‘Home Sweet Home,’ read the little girl. ‘It’s Perfect.’

“‘We’ll call this house Home, said her dad.’

“The house was so pleased with its new name that it filled every sink and tub in the house with tears of joy. They all lived happily ever after. The end.”

******

Those people next door make me sick, thought Rusty Bristle as he sat up in bed pulling the wings off an unfortunate moth. Especially that little twerp with the pony tail. Oh, look at me! I’m sooo happy! All the time! Happy! Happy! Happy! I ought to sneak up on her with a pair of garden shears and add a pony tail to my collection.

Rusty placed the wingless moth on the tip of his thumb and flicked it into the air with his middle finger.

On the shelf above his bed sat a virtual lost and found of personal items from the neighborhood. At night Rusty would don his night-vision goggles and prowl the backyards of his neighbors, collecting anything that seemed of interest. There sat old man Henderson’s false teeth. Mrs. Tuttle’s prosthetic ear. A pair of eyes from Sarah Johnson’s ‘Crying Betsy’ doll.

Rusty had gouged out the eyes himself. Then he stood the doll on the Johnson’s backyard picnic table and maneuvered Betsy’s arms so they shot straight into the air. It was found the next morning by Sarah. Who’s eventual screams could be heard in the next county.

Also on the shelf was a jar full of pickled frogs. Unscrewing the lid, Rusty reached in and grabbed a couple.

“Here you go, boys,” said Rusty.

Catching the frogs scent, Jekyll and Hyde slithered out from under the covers and devoured the frogs that Rusty held in his hand.

“Yeah,” said Rusty. “A pony tail would be nice.”