novem- chapter one

"I'm home!" came a voice from down the stairs with a jingling of the doorknob, "How far have you guys gotten on unpacking?"
"What's for dinner?" a young voice returned.
"Didn't answer my question!"
"Ouch, damn it!"
"Jan! Language missy!"
"Well he left a box right in front of my door and I stubbed my toe!"
"Whatever, you're just clumsy!" a voice retorted.
"C'mon, don't be like that guys! This is a chance to start all over! Would it kill you two to be siblings instead of rivals? If you guys can at least cooperate until dinner…" a ring of the door bell interrupted the mother, "Then I'll order you guys whatever you want to eat. Hello?" she smiled answering the door with a soft sigh.
Standing outside was a man approximately in his late thirties with two teenage boys, "Excuse me but I wanted to introduce myself. I'm your neighbor from across the street, Richard Berlin. These are my sons Eric and Johnny."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Carol Peachly," they shook hands.
The two boys behind nodded their heads and rearranged their feet. One was slightly taller than the other but both had dark hair and smooth skin. Eric- the younger and shorter- wore glasses in front of his deep brown eyes with black frames. Johnny's hair was messy but clean and his eyes were light brown. Both were well built but not too rippling.
"Well my sons and I came over to give you some of my wife's home made pumpkin bread," one of the boys held out a white plate with dark orange bread steaming up the Reynolds's rap, "and offer you some help with moving in."
Looking behind him the boys smiled with uneager youth. Carol took the bread.
"Well thanks so much. You could help me get settled down here. Don't worry too much about up stairs."
"You heard her boys get to work," Richard left, "Oh, and if you need anything in the future, don't hesitate to call on us. We'll send our sons right over. They're good boys; always willing to work. Strong too."
She nodded in an awkward response as he headed toward the driveway.
"Well boys… can you help me move these boxes into the family room? If they're marked with a red circle then be aware that um, that they're fragile."
"Who's here mom?" a young man stuck his head over the banister on the second floor.
"December, this is Johnny and um, Eric. They're from across the street."
He gave the quick guy nod to the two. All three were around the same age. Eric and Johnny began moving boxes into the living room without a word.
"Thank you so much for your help boys," Carol hummed.
"Who's here?" December's sister looked through the bathroom conjoining their rooms.
"These two guys who live across the street…"
"Oh… well who are they?"
"I forget…"
"Are they cute?"
"Oh yeah," he responded sarcastically, "So much hotter than Seth and Steven and Mitch and…"
"Can it dick…"
"You asked, Jan. Don't expect me to be much help."
"I never have…"
December began stacking boxes inside his closet. The room was a glowing white, which wouldn't last long.
"Which box are the cans of paint in?"
"I dunno," answered Jan.
"What do you mean you don't know, you packed all the stuff in the attic."
"Well then… check the boxes labeled A- T- T- I- C… that spells attic!" she pronounced.
December threw a dirtied rag at her before leaving to go down stairs. At the landing he looked over the edge of the railing. The room beneath was another living area complete with fireplace and tan carpeting. The room next to it was the formal dining area. It was filled with boxes and baskets of office supplies.
"Mom better not make that her study…" he said to himself, sighing.
Sliding down the banister he stumbled down to the tile floor at the foot of the stairs almost colliding with a stack of office max boxes. He stood up and went to the kitchen to find his mother.
"Mom…" he said passing through the dim hallway.
He only found Eric stacking boxes on top of a worn coffee table.
"Hey, do you know where Carol went?" he hoped he sounded at least like he didn't care.
Pointing to the garage door, down the hall, he saw his mother directing Johnny on moving their huge couch through the narrow door.
"Thanks!" December hollered and walked down the hall.
"I think if we turn it this way…"
"Mom… Mom… Mom… Mom…"
"What is it December?" she said trying to pull the couch through the door.
"Where are the boxes with the stuff from the attic?"
"Under the front window… have you got it Johnny?"
December turned and looked into the family room. Under the picture window on a brown cushioned seat sat three boxes. On top were written in the curly hand of his sister, 'Attic' in black sharpie. Shaking the first one he heard what sounded like photo albums. Moving to the second he shook it and heard Christmas decorations. Being careful not to break them he stopped and set the box down. He moved to the last and jiggled it on the seat. The metallic sound of paint sloshing around in cans struck his ears.
"Ah ha!" he exclaimed looking out the window.
A dark, faded shadow accumulated by the large tree in the front yard. December leaned towards the window and it was instantly gone. He cocked his head.
"What the-? Hum… cloudy…"
The sky, which had been perfectly clear until then, had covered over in thin grey clouds. A droplet smacked against the window followed by another… and another. Finally it was softly raining.
"Ah! Damn it!" cried Carol from the door.
She set the end of the couch down and went over to the window next to December, "Guess we'll have to finish up tomorrow. Johnny you can just…"
The couch had been moved fully through the door and Johnny and Eric were carrying it through the hall.
"Oh… guess not… it can go right over…" she scrambled after them.
December looked again out the window with streaks of water gliding over its surface masking the front yard. He thought he spied the shadow once again. Opening the front door he looked out. A gust of wind blurred his vision for only a second… but again it was gone.