The Strange Tale of Leonard Peck
New beginnings and new fears.
The red step-side pickup pulled alongside the window of the small rectangular building with the blue metal siding, and its occupant thought about how strange the color was. It was not an entirely unheard of color, just strange in that part of the Oklahoma countryside: There were no other blue businesses or houses for miles. It definitely stood out with oak trees at the back and on both sides, and very green crops growing just across the highway. Leonard thought that the verdant field was probably producing maize, but he didn’t know enough about farming to know one way or the other.
The window slid open and Suze said, “Hi Leonard! Unusual to see you on a Thursday. What can I get you?”
“Hey Suze,” said Leonard. “Let me get my usual poison.” As he normally did, he thought about how ancient Suze looked. She would never retire, no doubt, until nature retired her and she was planted somewhere in a box.
“Coming right up. That’s going to be 30 dollars exactly.”
“Thank you, I'll see y’all later,” said Leonard as he handed her the money.
Leonard pulled off the gravel parking lot onto Highway 73 and headed toward the Silver Creek River bridge. The bridge could actually be seen from the blue building, which was a liquor store called The Landing. The siding might seem odd, thought Leonard Peck, but it always has what the doctor ordered: He had just bought a case of beer and a fifth of whiskey for 30 dollars. It was cheap enough for Leonard. As soon as he got off the main highway and onto the back-roads, it was a certainty that he was going to open one of those brews, and it was going to be the first of many that he would open tonight.
Leonard Peck was a recently divorced man of middle-age, about 45 years old, and already quite bald. He and his former wife and their two kids had lived in Oklahoma, which was where his ex-wife and children still lived. She now owned the property on which they all had once dwelled, and one day their two boys would own it. The divorce had not been bitter; the former spouses had parted on good terms, so it was a fact that Leonard was not going to attempt to sell the land or cause any other sort of trouble for his kids and his ex-wife.
Be that as it may, Leonard no longer felt comfortable living in Oklahoma. Hill County had been his home for much of his adult life—he still worked there—but something was going to have to change. He couldn’t just “go through the motions” of daily life as it once had been, so, as soon as he reported to work again on Monday, he was going to request reassignment to Texas.
Leonard had left his former home with nothing but his step-side GMC pickup, the clothes that he could fit into it, his tools, and a couple of firearms. The truck was nice—almost new. He wouldn’t have to worry about transportation. The clothes didn’t matter too much: He would probably go out this weekend and buy a new wardrobe to celebrate his new life as a single man.
As far as Leonard’s tools went, they were another necessity. He used them at work, so he had to have them. Leonard was a mechanic who worked on heavy equipment that was owned and operated by a strip-mining company. He’d been a mechanic all of his life, but he really had no interest in it anymore. Even so, it was too late in the game to change occupations. It was far too late to learn a new trade or go to college. No, he was a mechanic and would remain one for the rest of his life.
The only other things that Leonard cared about (other than his two sons) were sleeping in the seat beside him. Ralph and Ronan were two year old black pit bulls, and though they appeared to be sleeping angels, they were generally intolerant toward humans, unless that human happened to be Leonard Peck. Where they were going, the boys would have a fenced in yard to roam around in, as well as a home where they would have free rein for much of the day.
In Fairton, Leonard took a right onto Farm Road 1821 and headed toward the Pine Hills Community. He passed through Pine Hills, heading in the direction of Chapel Hill. He had only been this way one time, the week before, so he slowed down and began to look for the bridge that spanned Lowland Creek. The creek was the most prominent feature of the area, which was referred to as the “Lowland Community.” The name was a textbook example of exaggeration, thought Leonard, as the “community” consisted of perhaps six homes.
Two or so more miles down the road, Leonard saw the house. It was an attractive white two-story farmhouse, owned by his friend Dave Anderson. Mr. Anderson worked for the same company as Leonard, save that he worked in the office as a department manager. He was also fairly well-off: He didn’t really have to work; he only did it because he wanted to do it.
Leonard pulled into the driveway and the boys immediately perked up. Leonard parked, put their leashes on, and then they all got out of the truck. The trio walked around the house and found the gate to the back yard. Leonard opened it. The privacy fence was in good shape, so he unleashed Ralph and Ronan to let them explore. He then closed the gate, latched it, and decided to take a walk around the property.
He walked around the lot and noted that the lawn needed mowing. That was something he could take care of easily, as the yard was small. No other “problems” that needed to be taken care of could be seen outside, and he knew from visiting the home last week that all was well on the inside. After briefly looking over the grounds, he went back to his truck, opened the glove compartment, and removed his key ring. On it were several keys that opened various locks on the property. He found the front door key, and in he went.
The house, Leonard knew, was a lucky find. It had been well maintained for its entire existence and, even if something went wrong, Leonard was something of a handyman in addition to being a professional mechanic. There probably wouldn’t be many, if any, problems that he could not fix.
Dave Anderson had inherited the house and about 50 acres of hay meadow from his grandmother (he calls her “granny”) about a month earlier. It was formerly the family home of several generations of the Anderson family. The last member of the family who had dwelled in the house was Mrs. Lyvia Anderson, the widow of Mr. Brendan Anderson. She had lived in the house alone (a nurse visited her every day) and died approximately five weeks earlier, at the age of 87.
The Anderson elders had always been clear when speaking to their family members about the property. If at all possible, the land and especially the house were to be retained by the Anderson family. Under no circumstances should anything be sold or allowed to fall into disrepair. It could be rented or dwelled in by a third party: That didn’t matter, as long as the land and the house were kept in the family. Leonard’s fortune in life, or perhaps his misfortune, had landed him the golden opportunity to dwell in the beautiful Anderson home.
Leonard entered into a foyer that had already been stripped of all pictures and anything else that was connected to the Anderson family. When Leonard had visited the house with Dave the previous week, the foyer contained pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Brendan Anderson. Both were well dressed society people, with Mr. Anderson appearing in his suit and Mrs. Anderson in an elaborate dress. Most of the photographs looked very much like they were taken at the Chapel Hill mansion.
Mrs. Anderson was particularly noticeable in her pictures because she was leaning on a walker. Dave explained that “granny” was “crippled” in one leg because she had been afflicted by polio. Granny could never sneak up on anyone, Dave had said, and had to use the walker at all times.
The only thing left behind in the foyer was a beautiful hardwood floor. Dave had explained that he was removing most of the furniture and everything that was hanging on the walls, so Leonard already knew that he was going to have to redecorate the place. Some of the items Dave removed would go into storage, Leonard had been told, and some of it was to be distributed to family members. Truthfully, Leonard didn’t mind at all, and though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he thought it might be fun to decorate his new home. Plus, it wasn’t like he had a social life or anything else to do, so why not have a personal project?
From the foyer, Leonard could see all the way through the kitchen to the back door. One of his first projects would be to install a pet door back there so the boys could have easy access to the back yard (and not have to aggravate Leonard by begging to go outside). To the right of the kitchen, just out of sight, Leonard knew that there was a butler’s pantry which entered into a dining room. Immediately to his right was the staircase that headed up to the second floor, where all of the bedrooms were located. If he took a few more steps into the house he would be in the parlor. To the left was a mud room, a large walk-in closet, a kitchen pantry with a non-working pitcher pump, and a restroom. It was a rich man’s home, thought Leonard, or it would have been back in the early 1900s. Now it was just a showpiece.
Leonard headed upstairs. The staircase and the landing at the top were made of the same kind of hardwood that the other floors featured. The hallway beyond the landing was likewise made from hardwood—only the bedrooms had carpeted floors. There were some noticeably deep scratches just past the landing. This would be something else to put on the to-do list.
By this time Leonard had decided that he might, indeed probably would, go into Clarkston or Tenby one weekend and look for some antique furniture for his new home. The condition of the “new” furniture really didn’t matter, because he was skilled enough to repair any faults or defects that may come with his purchases. There was even a small shop attached to the garage, so he would be able to repair and refinish anything he might purchase right there on the property.
The bottom floor of the Anderson home was stylish, but the top floor was much more utilitarian in nature. It consisted of one long hallway that ran all the way to the back of the house. The hallway ended at a large set of windows that added just a touch of natural lighting.
On each side of the hallway were bedrooms; the left side had, additionally, a bathroom and a room that was used for storage. The three bedrooms on the left side of the hallway still held some of Dave’s property; the bathroom had been emptied. The storage room had also been emptied. Eventually Dave would clear out all of the belongings in those rooms, and Leonard would assist him: Assisting with the removal of property was one of the conditions that Leonard had agreed to in order to be able to live in the house rent-free.
The right side of the hallway also held three bedrooms. Leonard’s room was on that side, first door to the right. His bedroom was still fully furnished, and it would remain that way until he bought some new furniture. Leonard’s room was a little larger than a traditional master bedroom, and it featured a king-sized bed. It also had its own bathroom as well as a walk-in closet.
Leonard spent the first night in his new home adding to a list of things to do and consuming alcohol. From changing the utilities into his name, to asking for that reassignment at work, he had it all recorded. With Ralph and Ronan on the floor beside him, he settled in for an uneventful night.
The next day Leonard went to work as he normally did. He returned home with a new job assignment and a pet door. He installed the pet door the same evening, and the boys quickly learned to use it.
The next couple of weeks, according to Mr. Peck, were mostly uneventful. Whether that is or is not strictly true is up to the reader to decide, for certain events did start to happen. Strange things started happening around the house. He’d put his ink pen down and come back to find that it was gone. His to-do list vanished. This happened with a number of other objects too, including a St. Christopher’s medal. Most of the time the object would reappear; sometimes in odd places: The St. Christopher’s medal reappeared on top of the refrigerator. Coins would reappear, apparently in mid-air, and could be heard as they hit the floor. Most frightening, on occasion the remaining furniture in the parlor would rearrange itself during the night. It was a weird situation at a weird time in Leonard’s life. At least nothing harmed the dogs. In fact, whatever was taking place apparently didn’t include the harassment of dogs, and they weren't concerned with “it” either.
We’ll probably never know whether such terrors affected Leonard Peck to the extent that they might others, for he was not easily frightened and had been known to laugh at those who were. He was an abrasive man. If he was afraid, he was too tough and maybe a little too arrogant to admit it. He never revealed the emotions he felt during what must have been a terrifying experience.
As it happens, Leonard was a hardworking man who didn’t spend all his free time away from home, unlike many of his co-workers. It was his custom to come home from work exhausted, so much so that he didn’t feel like doing much during the week. Apparently it became his habit to arrive at home, take the dogs out, prepare his evening meals, relax, and then retire—not unlike millions of other people. He didn’t worry too much about the things going on inside the house.
One night Leonard followed his normal routine and then went to bed. He was alone in his locked bedroom except for the two gigantic dogs, who were his constant companions. These dogs, as we have briefly hinted at, were known to be hostile toward anyone who was not Leonard Peck. They slept on the floor beside the bed.
At some point after retiring, Leonard heard what sounded like a terrific disturbance downstairs. Then he realized the disturbance was clomping loudly up the stairs! He listened to this noise until it reached the landing at the top of the staircase, and then he heard a distinct sound that would have made a lesser man head for the nearest window. Someone was walking toward his room. One foot hit the floor, hard, and the other made a dragging noise, as though it was sliding across the floor.
Step…drag. Step…drag. Step…drag.
Around this time in the story is the point when Leonard betrayed his true emotions. Well, sort of. In true country boy style, he slept with a shotgun beside his bed. His sidearm was on his nightstand. As the noisemaker slowly but steadily approached his bedroom, just feet from the landing, he loaded a shell into the pump action shotgun and took aim at the door.
Step…drag. Step…drag. Step…drag. Soon the unwelcome visitor arrived just outside the door to Leonard’s bedroom.
The door shook violently, as though someone was jerking on or twisting the knob, trying to get in...and then…
Silence.
The unknown visitor ceased its attempt to enter. It stomped to the other side of the hallway. A door slammed.
All was quiet.
Leonard said later that, “if that door had opened” he would have shot whomever or whatever was on the other side. He also testified that the large fierce dogs beside his bed were asleep, and only raised their heads once during the attempted entry. Strangely, they made no effort to bark or growl and were apparently unconcerned about whatever was on the other side of that bedroom door.
But what was on the other side? Leonard didn’t know for sure, but he could speculate. The best clue to his visitor’s identity, he thought, came from the fact that it had stomped across the hall and entered the room directly across from his bedroom.
It was the former owner’s bedroom, to which she had retired all of her life.
“Granny couldn’t sneak up on anyone in life,” Leonard said. “And she can’t sneak up on anyone in death, either.”
The next day Leonard Peck got transferred back to the company shop in Oklahoma. Shortly thereafter he bought a travel trailer and moved it onto his former mother-in-law’s property. He still lives there today and has no intention of visiting the Lowland Community ever again.
The End.
© 2023-2025 Ren Adama
