The Garage sale

Horror

“The Garage Sale”

By Cameron Reese

            Richard loaded the car with signs which read “Garage Sale” as Kate assorted her CDs in meticulous alphabetical order. They were way back at the end of a cul-de-sac surrounded by forest—nobody could find them unless they came looking. Everyone told them they should not move to the cul-de-sac in Palm Coast, but they did anyway. The neighbors would be old, the town was small, and it was no place to raise a child. After all, that was their plan, buy a house with a spare bedroom intending to fill it with a living offspring. As it were, they were all alone at the end of the cul-de-sac, away from town, without any neighbors, theirs the sole house along the winding, wayward road stuck in the middle of a preserve.

            Richard was getting ready to place the signs to advertise the garage sale when their first customer arrived. A car pulled up and parked on the edge of the grass and out came a little old lady who smiled and said, “Are you having a garage sale?”

            Kate looked confused and quit arranging the CDs, “Yes, we are…”

            The old lady meandered over and looked around at the table, “Oh, goodie, I love a garage sale.”

            “Say, how’d you know we were here?” Richard asked.

            “Oh, I don’t know. It was just a feeling, I guess. It was the feeling you get when there’s a garage sale.”

            Richard shut the trunk of his car and walked over to Kate. He whispered, “Have you put out any signs yet?”

            “No, none at all.”

            “You didn’t tell anyone, right?”

            “No, I mean, we just thought of it yesterday and besides who would I tell?”

            “So, why are you having a garage sale?” the old lady asked.

            “We just moved here, we wanted to get rid of some extra junk we don’t have a place for.”

            “Well, I always say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

            And then another car arrived. It parked behind the old lady’s, and out came a husky old man with glasses and a cane. “Is someone having a garage sale around here?”

            “Oh, yes, Don, come take a look at their possessions,” the old lady said.

            Don favored his right leg as he slowly marched across their lawn to the tent shading the tables. “Mind if I look around? It be a fine morning for a garage sale.”

            “Sure, go right ahead.”

            Don found a stack of old books with worn covers and curled corners. He picked one out, briefly thumbed through the contents, and then he placed it in his coat pocket. “Hey!” Richard said, “I saw that. You going to give us something for that?”

            Don blushed, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it cost money.”

            “It’s a garage sale, not a garage giveaway.”

            But he kept the book in his pocket and said, “Well, I’m not giving it back to you. It’s mine now.”

            Richard shook his head, “Excuse me?”

            Two more cars pulled up and parked; a long line was beginning to form. Up their driveway came two more old ladies both holding onto their pocketbooks. “Ooo, a garage sale, Dorothy, don’t you love a garage sale?” Dorothy nodded, “Yes, the weather is right for a garage sale.” Then two more cars, and two more after that. “Richard…” Kate was unsettled as the cars kept pouring in one after another. Richard muttered underneath his breath “What the hell is going on?”

            More cars trickled down the cul-de-sac, all of them driven by weary old faces. All they could do was watch the crowd form. They meandered around the house like ants looking for sugar. An old man tried to remove the mailbox from the ground, but it was too sturdy to budge. Another old man saw him struggle and decided to help, and when both of them could not move it, more people came to help until the mailbox was pulled from the earth and dragged away.

“We want to go inside and look at your other possessions.” A bug-eyed old woman said.

            “They’re not for sale,” Kate said.

            “Sale? Why we’re not buying anything. None of us came here to buy.”

            “Get off my property! I command all of you to leave right this instant!” Richard shouted to the crowd, but they all continued to saunter up the driveway. 

            None of them listened. There’s nothing they could do against the stubborn will of the crowd. While alone, one from the crowd could do very little, but when they worked together as organs of a larger system, they had the might of a super-man. No lone man could oppose the crowd without falling on deaf ears and being stripped of all possessions.

The old lady walked over to the front door and tried to get inside the house. “Get away from there!” Richard ran over and turned her around manually. “What the hell is the matter with you?” the old lady giggled and jogged away.

The cars continued to traffic down the cul-de-sac and parked around the circle until it bottlenecked. Dozens and dozens of people feebly walked from their cars up the driveway. They stuffed their pockets with the books and CDs and took the larger things back to their cars. Two old men, who arrived separately, dragged a large painting into a car that’d just arrived. There were too many of them for Richard to stop. The table was empty now empty, and all their possessions had been taken away; the driveway was the scene of a nursing home rebellion. It was too many people for them to manage.

“Is this everything?” one of them asked.

            “I’m not finished setting up, there’s still some things inside.”

            “Oh, inside? May we take a look.”

            “No, you can’t come into my house.”

            “But you said there are things in there. Your possessions are in there. We want your possessions.”

            Out from the woods, there came an old man limping, death in his eyes, flies in his mouth, he said, “A garage sale? I love a garage sale.”

            More cars came by the dozens. The entire community of old souls came and parked along the road until there was no more room to drive. They parked on the lawn covering every inch. Back through the long winding road which led to the garage sale, the cars were lined. Droves of gray old men and women, barely a breath in their lungs, emerged from the forest approaching from every side. “We love a good garage sale.”

            Kate held Richard tightly as they were enclosed by the masses. “What’s going on, where are they coming from?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Smash! They heard the sound of a rock being flung through the window. Then the front door was busted down by the weight of them leaning against it. “We want what’s not for sale.”

            Richard pushed them away from his house, but they kept coming. He pushed two old men down but three more were right behind, and then six, and then ten, and then thirty. They were overwhelmed. Richard punched a man who went down with a chuckle. They walked right over his body and all of them swarmed atop of Richard piling him down to the ground. None of them individually were strong but together it was like fighting the tide.

            Ahhhhhh! Richard heard the screams of his wife. He looked over and saw them lift her above the crowd and carried her away. “Leave her alone!” he yelled as he tried to muscle his way up, but it was no use. They stacked atop of him until his yelling became muffled like a scream into a pillow. Then Richard’s yelling stopped entirely as he was suffocated to death by the crowd. Silenced, never to be heard from again.

            “Please, let me go. Take whatever you want just let me live, please!” Kate pled. She wept and struggled but the many hands made light work of her.

            The crowd carried away the tent and the table from the garage sale, and out from the house they moved the mattresses and couches, and the all the kitchen appliances. The interior of their house was stripped, all of their possessions were taken. The old photos, the computer, the contents of their closet, all of it was removed. Then, when that was not enough, they began to rip the walls apart and removed the door from its hinges, busted the windows, and destroyed the house. They took apart the brick and mortar and its foundation crumbled; the house collapsed. Thousands of old men and women swarmed about the private property and in unison, from the voice of one communicated through the voices of the many they said, “We love a garage sale! We love a garage sale! We love a garage sale!” The chants would not quiet until the voice told them to stop.

            They were not people; they were a person. All of them acted as one entity. The group was mass-possessed and together did the bidding of the spirit of Palm Coast, the one who lived in the remote cul-de-sac outside of town.

            They dragged Kate into the street through the middle of the crowd. Although she was not showing, and she herself had yet to know, there was one final possession of hers which they sought to take. They placed her on the ground, smothered her so she could not move. Then the crowd’s hands ripped and tore at her stomach and removed from her womb the child twas never to be born.