Niel Allen 9

One of the books I had brought with me to read was filled with poems and short stories. I've always been inspired by poems, being a writer myself. I could never write a poem though, only read them. I found it hard to concentrate on reading the poems. My mind with filled with questions about Mr Allen's life story. I longed to know more about him and his life and his family. But even if I weren't trying to read these poems, I couldn't ask him anyway. He was still asleep. He was a peaceful sleeper, yes. I wondered at how he could stand sleeping in that hard chair though. I didn't quite understand why he didn't lie down in his bedroom. I could stand to read no longer. I decided that I would try to take advantage of the situation and explore Mr Allen's house while he was still asleep. I quietly put my book back into my bag. I slowly rose to me feet. The fall board creaked. I feared that I would wake Mr Allen. I could just imagine the disappointment he would feel if he found that I was snooping through his cabin. I tiptoed out of the tiny kitchen past Niel Allen's chair. My heart was pounding inside my chest. I was nervous. I tried to justify my actions. "It's not like I'm doing anything bad...I just need to find the bathroom."(of course I was going to have to enter every other room in his cabin in order to find that bathroom). I came across a door. I stopped in front of it. I assumed it was only a closet or something. I placed my shaking hand on the handle about to open the door. Mr Allen snored suddenly. It startled me. My heart now beating harder than it was before, I proceeded onward. The door creaked open. Why does everything in his house have to creak? I was dissatisfied with my findings. It was the bathroom. I quickly closed the door and pretended I never saw it was the bathroom so I would be justified in exploring the rest of the cabin. The further down the hallway I walked, the darker it became. This added to the mystery of it all. The next door I came across seemed more promising. The door creaked open yet again. I peered over into the living room, checking on the condition of Mr Allen. Still fast asleep. I entered the dark room. My hand ran up the wall searching for a light switch. I finally found one. It was a bedroom. The bed was centered under the small window. The bedspread was a simple quilt. It looked hand made. I wondered if Ginny made it. On either side of the bed were nightstands. The one on the right held a picture of Ginny and a notebook. A vase with a single red rose was placed next to the picture. The rose was dried. On the left side was a photograph of Niel Allen, also next to a book. Pushed back on the small table was a small plush teddy bear. I guessed that this must have been their bedroom. It looked untouched though. Everything was placed perfectly. I doubt it has been used in quite some time. On the wall nearest me, there stood a four-drawer dresser. Atop of that was an oval mirror with a silver hair brush. It must have been Ginny's. On the wall adjacent to that, was another four-drawer dresser. A small mirror also sat upon that dresser, but in conjunction with a shaving blade. I felt the warmth of the room. It was warmed with love. I stood for a moment, looking around the room, soaking in the details. I then remembered Mr Allen. I feared that he had awoken. I quickly took one last glance at the room before turning off the light. I quietly shut the door. I took a peek into the living room again. Mr Allen was still asleep. "Phew!" I'm safe. There was one more door at the end of the hallway. I quietly yet quickly walked towards it. As I approached, I noticed a small lock on the door. Mr Allen is the only one who lives here. Why would he need a lock on the door? I was curious at what lie behind that door. Just then, Mr Allen awoke. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I must've fallen asleep. I'm sorry, child." I rushed out into the living room, acting as though I had just came back from the bathroom. "Oh, it's really okay Mr Allen. I caught up on some reading," I said, breathing hard. "What'cha reading?" Mr Allen inquired. "Oh, just a compilation of poems and short stories," I explained. "That's the best kind. Just lovely." Niel Allen blinked hard, as if he had just awoken to reality. After a moment, Mr Allen piped up. "You know, Ginny used to write poems. She would sit on the back deck, even in the freezing cold weather and just write and write. She wrote some pretty good things. Boy did she ever have a way of painting a picture with words. She possessed a real talent for that. I'll have to find her papers and let you read them sometime. I'm sure you'd enjoy them." "Oh, I didn't know she wrote. I'm sure I'd enjoy them. I enjoy almost every writer," I replied. "Yes, now...if I could only remember what I had them last. It seemed like just yesterday I was reading one of her stories. Tell you what, kiddo, I'll find it tonight, then you can read it tomorrow. How's about that?" "That's just perfect, Mr Allen. Did she write alot of stories?" "Oh, yeah. I don't even know how much she's written. She kept them pretty organized and filled them all. She kept them in the office. It full of her files of stories and poems. She also has many pictures. It might take me awhile to find the exact story I want you to read, but I'll get it to ya." "Okay, thanks. I appreciate it." "No problem, child." I wondered if the room with the locked door was the office Mr Allen was talking about. I love reading stories and looking at pictures. I'll have to most definitely try to venture in there another time; but I think I've had enough adventure for one day. I mean, after all, this is just my first day here. I wondered what we were going to do next. Niel Allen was silent. Typical I thought. He looked up at me and began, "You know what, child? You've been such an excellent help to me today. I appreciate it. You can go on home now." I was surprised. "Well, are you sure, Mr Allen? Don't you want me to cook dinner for you?" "It's ok, Jocelyn. You can go." That was the first time he had called me by my name. I so enjoyed my time with Mr Allen that I did not want to leave. "Well, okay then. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then!" "Yes. I'll see you tomorrow, kiddo. Say hi to your mom for me." "Oh don't worry. I will. Bye, Mr Allen!" I gathered my things and headed for the door. "Bye," he said faintly. I exited.