Checky Fallows
Jeff raised his shaking hand and allowed it to fall on the screen door. A scuffling could be heard within. It was the sound of a chair being scraped across a wooden floor.
“Just a moment,” hollered an elderly voice wafting through the open entrance door.
Jeff glanced down at his sneakered feet, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Thud, ka-thud, thud, ka-thud. A throat cleared. Jeff glanced towards the sound to find tiny eyes squinting through circular glasses from behind the flywire mesh.
“And you are?” asked the voice.
“Jeff. Jeff Olding. I’m here about the room you advertised,” he said, a quaver in his voice. “We spoke yesterday. I am a sorry for being early.” Jeff gazed at the big toe on his left shoe. A black sock could be seen poking through the top of the fabric. Jeff frowned.
“Ah. Yes. Jeff.” The screen door swung out.
As Jeff staggered backwards, he thrust out his hands. 2 crinkly, weak hands grasped his right one, pumping it up and down with a vigour. “And I’m Checky Fallows.” As suddenly as his hand was grasped, it was released. Checky swung the door out until it smashed against the bricks behind it, flattening his body against the inside wall. “Come on in, Jeff.”
Jeff entered the dark room. Jeff perused the lounge. Next to the entrance, there was a cabinet full of curios. Next to that, was a large screen TV. Opposite the cabinet was a leather 2-seater. In front of the television, was a recliner. On the TV was a frozen image of a player wearing blue with the number 12 on his back.
Checky eyed Jeff, waiting for Jeff’s gaze to return to him, before he stroked his grey beard once, resting his hand on his chin. Meeting Jeff’s eyes, he gave a little nod, glanced towards the television and turned around. “Whelp, young one,” Checky cleared his throat twice, “This is the lounge. Nothing special, as you can see. If you’ll follow me.” Checky rubbed the thinning patch of grey hair at the back of his head. Jeff noticed that Checky wore a tiny braid at the nape of his neck.
Checky walked between the 2-seater and recliner. Jeff followed behind, entering into a spacious, white kitchen. “This is my pride and joy. I upgraded it a couple of years ago. Since I retired 5 years ago, all I do is cook and watch sport.” Checky waved an airy hand around the kitchen.
Jeff noticed a table. There was a newspaper on top. The front page’s words were a big, red “Guilty” facing Jeff. Jeff gave a little inward smile. ‘Guilty of what?’ he thought to himself. Next to the word, was a cufflink. On the chair closest to him was a red and black paper bag. Beyond the table was a pantry with an open door. There was a door to a undercover patio aside that. Then there was a huge kitchen bench area, covered with all sorts of gadgets that Jeff did not recognise. There was a sink, more bench with gadgets, a stove, and a final bench with even more gadgets. The fridge and freezer sat against the wall that backed the lounge room.
