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Old Man Pete

Pat Tyrer

    Pete Jurgensen had been our neighbor for as long as I could remember. He’d never been friendly, always threatening to “shoot” Max, our old dog, whenever he’d catch him in his yard, and yelling at us kids to “pipe down” when we played hopscotch on the front sidewalk, but I never thought he’d kill anybody. Boy was that a shocker, as Gran Aideen used to say. That was the last summer I stayed with Gran Aideen, who lived in our house a long time before we did. About a year after Pete shocked the neighborhood, Gran Aideen went in to the nursing home when she broke her hip. “That’s all she wrote,” she said when they put her in the ambulance. I visited her in the nursing home until I went to college and then on holidays until she died at 92. She’d been the biggest influence in my life, and my most trusted ally, especially that summer and especially the day Pete Jurgensen was arrested for murder. It’s my only boyhood memory that’s as clear today as the day it happened.
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    It was still early evenin’ when I seen Old Man Pete come out of his house yellin’ bout shootin’ some fella. I was playin’ cross the street with Ronny Callahan ‘til the street lights come on. Gran Aideen made me come in the house when Pete come out yellin’ and a hollerin’, even though the street lights wasn’t even on yet; wouldn’t even let me look out the front winda’ when all them sheriff’s cars came near to parkin’ in our front lawn. That was Gran. Never did let ya’ know what was happenin,’ and stopped any funnin’ as soon as it begun.
    “The things most people want to know about are usually none of their business,” she’d say, “George Bernard Shaw.” Some ol’ boyfriend of hers I reckon. She was always sayin’ stuff like that to keep me from havin’ any fun.
    Old Pete sure did kill that feller. That’s what the Daily Journal said. Shot him straight through the heart. I just knowed there was blood all over. Me and Ronny couldn’t wait to get over there and see all the blood ‘n guts. Once all the police and the spectators cleared out, me and Ronny was bound n’determined to see what we could. So right after Gran went to bed, I snuck out, climbin’ out the winda which was on the second floor and weren’t that easy to do. Ronny’s ma and pa were always drinkin’ and a fightin’ so he snuck out easy. We didn’t have no flashlight, but Ronny had some kitchen matches in his britches. We hid in the bushes next to Gran’s, crouchin’ down near the porch in case anybody come nosin’ around. Mrs. Penscott who lived next to Ronny generally sat on her front porch in the dark tryin’ to catch anybody who might be up to somethin’. She’d sit in her rocker and smoke up her pipe.
    “If you rock with the grain of the wood, it don’t make no noise,” she’d tole us. “If you go agin the grain of the wood, you wake up the haints.” We sure nuff didn’t wanna wake up no haints, so me and Ronny kept away from rockin’ chairs. It was hard to see Mrs. Penscott unless she was smokin’ her pipe. Then the bowl glowed red whenever she sucked in a chug a smoke. After a while we decided she weren’t on the porch. Besides, Ronny was startin’ up moanin about his sore knee which he done got when I run into him when we was roller skatin.’ His skates were loose ‘cause he done lost his skate key, and I sure nuff weren’t givin’ him mine, so he says his injury is probably permanent and he might sue me. I don’t know iffin he means it, but I ain’t givin’ him my skate key no how.
    We snuck around to Old Pete’s real quiet like makin sure there weren’t no one in there. Old Man Pete lived alone, but Ronny said he was sure nuff certain there’d be a deputy or two standing guard. Ronny knows a lot about these kinds of things cause his folks let him watch Dragnet which he tells me all about.
    We snuck up to every winda and lit a match tryin to see inside. It didn’t work so much and we was near to burnin’ our fingers off by the time we ran outa matches. With nothin’ left to burn, we jus set on the back stoop tryin to think a what to do next. Ronny said maybe the door’s open, but I said that’s stupid ‘cause it wouldn’t be open no more after the deputies was in there.
    “It’s open,” Ronny hollered from the back door.
    “Hush,” I yelled at him, just as loud. We sure weren’t never gonna be no future burglars, the way we was carryin’ on.
    “Go on in,” I urged Ronny who was just standing there holdin’ onto the handle.
    “I am, I am,” he said. Just wait on a minute.
    I pushed my way past ole Ronny and went into the kitchen. There wasn’t no lights and we’d already burned up our matches, so we just stood there waiting for our eyes to adjust. A little light shone in thru the front winda, but it didn’t near reach the kitchen.
    “Where’d you think Old Man Pete shot that fella?” Ronny whispered.
    “Darned if I know,” I whispered, “I cain’t see nuthin’.”
    “Maybe we should just go on home,” Ronny said.
    “Heck no,” I said. “Doncha want to see the blood n’ guts no more?” Ronny still hadn’t moved away from the kitchen door, and I suspected he weren’t as tough as he said he were, even if he had seen all them Dragnet shows. Old Man Pete’s house was just like Gran’s on the inside with the kitchen in back of the livin’ room. The hall were off the kitchen an the sleepin’ rooms was on each end with the lavatory in the middle.
    I started across the kitchen when a loud crashing noise behind me stopped me dead.
    “What’d you do?” I whispered to Ronny.
    “I dunno. I knocked somethin’ off the counter. Should I turn on the lights?”
    “No!” I whispered as loud as I could. “Just don’t make no more noise.”
    “Sorry,” whispered Ronny back.
    I continued cross the kitchen with Ronny followin’ close. The hall was so dark, we couldn’t even see as much as we had in the kitchen. Except for the livin’ room, all the curtains were drawn and there weren’t no light even flickerin’ in from the outside. I moved along the hall, huggin’ the walls, trying to feel for a door latch.
    “Ronny,” I whispered as loud as I could.
    “I ain’t goin’ no further,” Ronny said out loud like we was just talkin’ normal.
    “Shh!” I said. “Ronny, you skeered?”
    “No, I ain’t skeered; I jus’ ain’t goin’ no further, that’s all.”
    “Well I aim to see where he shot that feller. Will you wait on me?” I asked, now talkin’ normal just like we was in the kitchen at Gran’s.
    “I reckon,” Ronny said.
    I continued down the hall, moving my fingers along until I felt the door jam. I waved my hand around and couldn’t feel nothin’ ‘cept air. Even with the door open, I couldn’t see nuthin’ but dark.
    “The bedroom door’s open,” I said to Ronny, not botherin’ to whisper no more.
    “Can you see any blood?” Ronny asked.
    “Nope. Cain’t see nothin’.” I stepped into the darkness and immediately felt my foot come out from under me. I landed hard and let out a yelp as I came down on top of my other foot with my knee bent under me. The fall slapped me back, jerkin’ my head onto the hard wood floor. The back a my head felt stuck to the floor. I felt the back of my head; it was sticky.
    “I think I’m bleedin’ to death,” I hollered.
    “What shud I do?” Ronny called from the kitchen door, not comin’ in any closer to where I was lyin’ on the floor.
    “Get help, Ronny,” I hollered. “Get help!”
    As I lie there on the floor, feeling real dumb, I thought about the switch Gran would probably make me fetch so she could whup me. Maybe if I were near to dyin’, she’d be all maudlin-like and forgivin.’ Felt like I lied there forever before I heard somebody clompin’ up the stoop. The kitchen light come on and I heard Gran tell Ronny to git on home.
    “James Anderson Garrett, you in here, boy? Speak up if you is,” Gran hollered.
    “I’m here, Gran. I done fell and broke my own leg,” I said tryin’ to sound real pitiful. The hall light came on nearly blindin’ me as Gran come down the hall.
    “Give me yur hand, boy,” she said, leaning over and helpin’ me get to my feet. My legs shaky, but solid.
    “I’m bleedin’ bad, Gran,” I told her, putting my hand to the back of my head.
    She turned me toward the light and messed my hair a bit.
    “Ain’t yur blood.”
    I glanced back at the spot where I’d fallen to see a thick layer of sticky, dark red blood congealing on the floor. The walls of the hall where peppered in dark red splotches. Pieces of what looked like fatback were stuck to the walls and the ceiling. I felt the warmth run down my leg. I was gonna be sick, and I began to cry.
###
    Gran took my hand in hers and led me home, never saying another word. From that day until the day she left us, she never brought up that night in Old Pete’s place. It was a night I never forgot. The night I learned about the dark side of curiosity.

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