The amazingly popular iamindisposed.com recently posted a writing contest with Reno eNVy sponsoring the grand prize. A picture was provided as a catalyst and the rules were simple enough for me to follow so here it goes….

“Those Blue Eyes”

This morning started out innocently enough as I sipped my coffee at the breakfast table. The morning paper was strewn about with uneven stained arcs running off the edge of the page. Upon closer inspection I noticed that one of the stains neatly outlined a picture, inscribed below was Clyde Watson. The biography was curiously signed “anonymous”.

Those blue eyes…….

We had talked about making the trek for weeks. Mary had developed an interest in the place after stories of the unexplained sights and sounds that just about everyone experienced at the site. We left the house as the sun was cresting and melting the dew off the windshield. Sagebrush had started breaking through the hardened tracks in the road, hinting that we were the only souls to pass in quite some time.

Those blue eyes…….

Clyde had worked his life as a hired hand. The story told of his long days shoveling tailings into a rickety cart and perilously guiding the haul down the narrow path to be sifted further. He worked many different sites for numerous outfits over the years, never seeming to fit in enough to be welcomed for long. He had more than once packed up the families’ belongings to strike out for something better

Those blue eyes…….

The walls rose straight up from the dry earth looking as though the slightest wind would send them toppling. Vibrant streaks of paint covered the cracks and crevices that had developed along the walls. Edges crumbled, revealing the small stones embedded within. At each corner there laid a small pile of stones that had freed themselves from the grip of lye and cement that once bound them.

Those blue eyes…….

As the Watson family traveled west they happened upon a small town that sat in a nondescript valley between towering, brush covered mountains. As they stopped for gas at a lone statuesque pump in front of a shabby little building, an equally shabby little man turned the corner to greet them. He rambled about the new outfit coming to town that would bring in all the derelicts and social rejects from the cities looking for work.

Those blue eyes…….

Circling the perimeter of the structure revealed gaps that once held doors and windows. It was difficult to see past the graffiti and imagine what it would have looked like with people buzzing about inside, lizards and fleeting dust were the only things moving that day. We haphazardly picked one of the openings and stepped through.

Those blue eyes…….

The family settled down in a ramshackle house that sat just at the edge of town. The back porch gave a view of finger-like valleys that ran up into the mountain. The wood shingles sat skewed on the piecemeal roof and Clyde hoped that the winter would be a calm one. The rooms in the house had a voice of their own as Clyde’s worn boots shuffled across the wooden floor and the planks rubbed, but he knew this would soon be a welcomed sound of comfort and peace.

Those blue eyes…….

A spell of vertigo hit me as I stepped to the edge of the open stairs. I slowly shuffled my feet from one dusty step to the next, not looking down as I heard crumbling beneath each foot. The room below was filled with more painted walls that captured some adolescent’s afternoon amusement. It was hard to tell if the floor was once solid as it was now an uneven coating of rocks, dirt and debris.

Those blue eyes…….

Clyde worked the morning shift at the new mining outfit. Every morning on his way in he remembered the old man’s grumbling of derelicts and misfits and how it had come true. All of the workers had an untold anger towards the place, taking no care with words as they protested the day’s chores. This attitude was remiss in Clyde as he kept to himself and tried hard to go unnoticed.

Those blue eyes…….

Recalling the events of the day bring back the uneasiness I felt as I stood on the dirt covered floor of the abandoned edifice. The sun beat down through an opening that was once the grand entrance, now just a gaping hole that opened to the world outside. Each step unleashed a whirl of dust that delivered a musty smell that seemed to stick to my nostrils.

Those blue eyes…….

Clyde’s disability kept him from making friends. His gentle, caring personality was undiscovered by most around him. The workforce at the newest site was the same as all the others, never taking an extra second for acknowledgement. Each day was the same as the last, passing in silence as he worked the calluses thicker and tougher through the day.

Those blue eyes…….

A stream of sunlight passed my shoulder and I noticed a shimmer in the rubble where two walls met. The worn brass became more apparent as I stepped closer for inspection. I pushed aside the stones and retrieved a tarnished Zippo lighter from the rubbish. On the bottom of the lighter you could barely make out an engraving. As I rubbed my finger across the cold metal I could make out the last of the letters- atson…..

Those blue eyes…….

The tale of the mines’ ending left a lot of questions. Apparently the fire had started just outside the storeroom of chemicals and light explosives that were used in uncovering the ore. The curious part is that it appeared to have started just before the afternoon break ended, when all but one of the guys were seated in the chow hall.

Those blue eyes…….

As I turned around to ascend the stairs I realized I hadn’t noticed the bright blue eyes staring down upon us. At the time they seemed to be just another installment in the series of glyphs that covered the walls.

The article’s picture immediately reminded me of those cold blue eyes watching over the empty room…….

This just may be the first piece of fiction I’ve written since high school!