Lean in close and let me tell you a secret

I live in a small city in the midwest and to earn a little extra money I’ve taken up a part-time job as a door-to-door salesman. My shift at my primary job starts in the early evening and I can get through most of a neighborhood before that. The company I work for has me pushing magazines along with silverware, gaudy household decorations, and all manner of things that no one is interested in.For the most part people are either not home or don’t come to the door when I knock. When someone does answer the door, they almost always slam it in my face as soon as I begin my pitch. I’ve gotten numb to the rejection by now and it makes those rare times when I do make a sale that much more memorable.I only get paid for the sales I make so in order to not lose all my money on gas I always park nearby and do all my door-knocking on foot. An aspect of the job that I do like is that I get to walk around my city and explore every neighborhood. Some days I’m in an apartment complex, others I’m walking door to door in a middle class development, and sometimes I’m in a trailer park.I always bring some dog treats along in case a Pitbull tries to intercept me as I make my way across someone’s fenced-in front yard. Some weirdos will answer the door in just a towel, evidently fresh out of the shower. Because it’s the midwest I see some people who are clearly high on meth, which makes me sad more than anything else. Over time I’ve gotten better at handling the more difficult encounters and until yesterday I thought I was prepared for anything that could happen.It’s only late October but winter seems to have already arrived. Last week the highs dropped from the mid sixties to the low forties and since then it’s only gotten colder. Two days ago while I was making my route the snow started to fall, slowly at first, but it hasn’t stopped since.The snow was about 6 inches deep when I started out yesterday. The neighborhood I was door-knocking in is one of the poorest and the city really hasn’t done anything to help out.The snowflakes were falling big and wet and the snow was accumulating quickly when I parked my car. Rising up above the already barren trees and the crammed together houses stood twin smokestacks from a nearby factory. They emitted some foul smoke which stood out against the cold white sky and gave the whole neighborhood an awful fishy smell. Although it was noon the heavy snowfall made the day feel like it was at an end. I went from house to house, and although there were plenty of people home, I hadn’t yet made a sale. Days like these I often lose hope but my manager tells me I have to try every single house. To his credit I find that sales happen when I least expect them, so I waited patiently at each house, warming my numbing hands in my pockets, hoping someone would open up.Towards the end of my route I came to a street that ended at train tracks. There was no fence to keep people from walking onto the tracks, even though they ran right next to some of the houses so I just assumed the tracks were no longer in use.As I approached one of the houses I was met by a sign on the front gate that said beware of dog. This isn’t at all uncommon. Many people either have a camera, a big guard dog, or both.The small house set dead center of a pretty big yard, surrounded on all sides by a six foot tall chain link fence. A serious fence like that must mean a serious dog, I thought and reflexively reached into my pocket for the dog treats. The gate swung noiselessly closed behind me. The whole scene was muted by the snow.The yard was strewn with all sorts of things although they were hard to identify as everything was blanketed in snow. No sign of the dog so far, apart from the yellow stain where it had clearly peed not too long ago.Next to the house sat a pair of old cars covered by tarps. The house itself was narrow, with a roof that bowed a good deal in across the middle. There were no tracks in the snow leading up to the front door, but a little smoke rising up from the roof was evidence enough for me that there was somebody home.There were no windows facing the front. What really made the house stand out was the structure erected before the front door. It was a tent which I guess served as a kind of mud room or extension to the house. It was flush to the front of the house, and had sheets of metal leaning against the outer walls giving it a permanent look. The tent was old, the kind with a peaked roof like a mini house.The front of the tent was open, and not wanting to miss out on a potential sale, I took that as an invitation. The tent was shorter than I expected. I had to duck to enter, and it was very dark inside. The air in the tent was warm, but stale and unpleasant. It smelled strongly of dog and cigarette smoke. The interior featured extensive rugs which I guess is what retained the smells so well. The warmth grew as I neared the front door, as did a foul odor that I couldn’t quite place.When I reached the door I found it ajar. This was immediately overshadowed by what came next. A man’s voice, raspy but clear:“Come inside”For some reason this caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I wasn’t sure how to respond. One of the few rules in this job was to never go into a house. Of the thousands of residences I’d visited, I’d never once been invited in. In the brief pause I could hear flies buzzing around inside.“Come inside” the voice said again. I shook aside my unease. It’s probably just some old man, I told myself. He's too tired to open the door himself. Sometimes these older folks living by themselves are lonely and they just want someone to talk to and I can make a sale just being polite. I gave the door a gentle push and it swung open. Warm air rushed to greet me and I suddenly felt the coziness of this little house. I found myself in the front hall on a narrow red carpet. The yellow light gave the wallpaper and wood floor a warm glow. The walls were adorned with all kinds of old paintings and framed black-and-white photos of far away places and people long dead. The house felt comfortable and lived-in. The cigarette smell was even stronger inside but at least it helped mask the foul smell. To the left was the living room. An overstuffed couch sat across from the TV, which cast a flickering blue glow across the room.“This way” said the voice. I continued down the hall towards the kitchen. This was the closest I’d come to a sale all day and having already come this far, there was no turning back.The first thing I saw in the kitchen was the wheelchair. Of course, I thought, no wonder they couldn’t get to the door. Then I saw the kitchen garbage. It was overflowing with flies buzzing around, and was evidently the source of the smell. The linoleum floor reflected the light from the ceiling. I saw him last. In the corner he sat, almost half asleep in the chair of one of those stair lifts coming up from the basement. The wheelchair was` just out of his reach.“Let me help you with that” I said, thinking to myself how lucky it was that I got here when I did. He could have been stuck in that spot for a long time If I hadn’t come along. I brought the wheelchair closer and pressed down the wheel brake so it wouldn’t move. Some older people don’t smell so good, but since they can’t really help it I tried to be subtle about breathing through my mouth.“Lean in close and let me tell you a secret, young man” he said.Obeying I leaned in and then stopped suddenly. Realization crept across my body and suddenly my insides burned. I watched as he said it again, his raspy voice ringing around the kitchen. I couldn't tell where the talking was coming from, although I was certain it wasn't his mouth.“Lean in close and let me tell you a secret.” I heard his words yet his face did not move, his eyes, open, flat, staring blankly and unblinking, his limbs lay still, his torso, slumped into one with his chair did not stir with a breath. I watched for several seconds, only my eyes able to move, frantically taking in the room. My eyes locked onto bloody scratchings on the wall next to him. That finally broke me from my horrified stupor and I leapt from the room, out the front door, and onto the street.I haven't left my house since. I may go back to work on Monday. I'm not sure. I told my boss what happened and he was fairly understanding. Obviously I didn't tell him every detail or he'll think I'm crazy, but I don't mind sharing my story with strangers online. The only thing I won't share is his secret. via /r/nosleep https://ift.tt/3dU28oB