Green River Road – Walker

Green River Road

II   Green River Road – 1708

III   Green River Road – The Maldonados

IV  Green River Road – 1716

As he made his way through the house, each room seemingly more extravagant than the one before, he continued to hear names. A never ending list of names, but none of them he recognized

  • Louise Jones
  • Cheryl Lewis
  • Julia Martinez
  • Julie Clark
  • Patrick Howard
  • Amanda Gray
  • Fred Perry
  • Lois Garcia
  • Angela Perez
  • Stephen Baker

The voice seemed to get louder as his proximity to any seemingly expensive item in the house lessened. The more glamorous the item, the louder the voice. It didn’t make any sense. None of the names were the same, or had the same last name so he doubted if they were related somehow, and there was no way that this many people could have lived in this house, no matter how big it was.

He came to a staircase that filled his entire arc of view, no matter which way he turned. Seemed to go on forever before he came to a landing, with two more stair cases off of the landing, one to the left and one to the right. Before turning to either staircase, he noticed straight ahead of him, a bunch of pictures on the wall. Walking toward them he could see that they were old black and white pictures of stores, each store with a large “W” over the entrance.

Walker’s Department Stores, hundreds of them displayed across the expanse of the landing. Jack Walker was the name he heard when he first came in the house, did this guy own all these stores? That would explain his current prodigious surroundings. One guy lived in this huge house? What a waste he thought as he continued his tour of the upstairs, having chosen the left stair case first.

Room after room of immaculate items on display, as if money was no object and was the only focus in this person’s life. ‘This is nuts’ he thought as he opened and checked each room. As he walks through he remembers that his mom told him that she used to work at one of these stores, said it was the worst job she ever had. Said that they treated their employees like insignificant chattel.

Now going up the stair case to the right of the pictures, he can hear that low moaning again, similar to what he heard in the first house. But this time it is louder and seems to be coming from more than one room. As he checks each room, the low rumbling gets louder and louder until he comes to the last two rooms at the end of the hall.

He reaches hesitantly for the door on the right. . . locked. But noise is definitely coming from inside.


Again he hears the voice in his head, a deeper male’s voice telling him that he has to find the answers. But all he has found so far is more questions. The door at the end of the hall beckons him, he can hear noises from in there as well, and they seem to be stronger, Hesitantly he reaches for the door knob.

As the coldness of the steel handle greets his sweaty palm, a pain shoots through his body like nothing he has felt before. Trying to let go of the handle, he is unable to break free. It is like his hand is stuck to the doorknob like a magnet to a piece of steel. A current pulses through him, his body shaking, he tries to pull away.

Suddenly something very big slams into the door from the other side, knocking him away from the door and to the hallway floor. He lays there panting, wishing for his body to listen to his frightened thoughts and get up and run the hell away from there, but he can’t seem to move. The door reverberates with each pounding it is taking from whatever it is on the other side. Slowly he regains his senses and sits up.


‘Screw this!’ he thought, ‘I ain’t helping no one!’ His only thought right now was getting out of this house. He got to his feet and slowly turned around, remembering his vision was severely limited, and made his way down the hallway to the staircase, He can still here something blasting away at that door at the end of the hallway, stumbling down the stairs, holding himself up by the railing, he makes it to the landing.

The sound of glass breaking startles him, a quick glance to the right and he see the pictures of the stores are falling off the wall and their frames are shattering on the ground at his feet. Stepping across the bent frames and glass, he makes his way down the main staircase and to the front door.


He tries to pull the doors open but they are locked. Now what?! The voice is getting louder in his head


‘Why me? Why do I have to help anyone? I don’t even know who these people are let alone what I am supposed to help them with? Let them help themselves and leave me out of it!!’


Voice is getting louder, forcing him to try to cover his ears, but that just seems to keep the voice inside his head


‘FINE! I’ll help them, but someone needs to tell me what to do!!!’

. . . . and the front door swings open.

About joatmon14

Man in recovery from everything, looking for a little help, inspiration and direction.... Have spent the last 25 years working in big business, getting lost in all the chaos, not feeling like what I did mattered. By no means am I a professional writer nor do I even think I am that good, but it is something I love to do. Getting lost in a world of words, even for just a little while is why I started my blogs. In reality, at the age of 49 I am trying to find my voice. To find my passion. Maybe starting a little late, but better late than never. I write for me, I enjoy reading other's thoughts very much as well and look forward to the day that I can hold an extended, intelligent, meaningful conversation with YOU View all posts by joatmon14

5 responses to “Green River Road – Walker

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