It was nine o’clock in the morning and Hollow Park was waking up, like every single morning the kids would get out of their homes on their way to school. Either riding their bicycles or leaning in the bus, little by little the old neighborhood would get empty as their inhabitants, people whose families had lived there all of their lives, driving old Chevrolet cars and wearing uniforms from the working class, head towards they’re day to day routines inside the American dream.

Hollow Park was a tight-knit community that settled in the same way the rest of the city so many years ago. It was a place where normally nothing would ever happen, and in which often unaware that outside their community, its neighbors would anxiously participate in holidays, summer fairs, parents' reunions, and church services every week. Knowing each other by family and name, all of their kids would go to the same school, participate in the same clubs, go to the same camps, and eventually Colleagues to work the same jobs. Sometimes bringing a new family member or friend with them, they’ll grow old enough to retire themselves, having renewed the cycle that made the neighborhood survive through the years.

Daniel had pretty much the same background, his parents had met in college and after a couple of years working across the country, his dad had found a way to move back to his hometown, bringing his mom’s family with him. His dad had even managed to bring some friends he had made back then, along with the ones with whom he had grown up, and formed that little circle in which Daniel had grown, and was the basis of his actual group of friends.

After his time in the officer's school, Daniel himself served in the military and then settled down with Eve whom he had met in high school times. It wasn’t a bad life.

Oliver’s family was a bit different, twenty years ago there used to be an old couple living in the house at the end of Washington Street, the oldest part of the neighborhood right where the quarter started to become slightly worse, right when the woods started. The man Irvin had been a professor at the University of Maine for over twenty years, and after his retirement, he dedicated himself to caring for his ill wife. No more than five years after she died, he followed her, and the house had been alone since then. They seem to have a son, one of those cases in which the boy didn’t come back after college, nothing really weird.

And it wasn’t until that very same summer that Oliver’s mom, Carrie, moved in with her two sons, claiming the possession. That house and some savings seemed to be all they had to start a new life in the unknown place Hollow Creek was for them, one in which they were complete foreigners. Their last name quickly became a foreshadowing for everyone, and the Strange landed out of place from the very start.

That was the difficult part when coming to know something about them during the investigation, the little everyone knew of them.

— You ready or what? —

Claimed Barnes outside the car’s window, Daniel who had been parked in front of the Strange’s house for about half an hour got out of his trance and looked at the old investigator with wide-open eyes.

— God’s sake, and you planning to go inside like that? I might as well have stayed in the office —

— Sorry, I was reviewing the case in my head —

Replied Daniel rushing out of the car. His suit was ironed, his beard shaved and his air waxed. He seemed a little bit sleepy, but after a sleepless night, Barnes thought that was only natural.

— Well you better take off your head out of your ass, cause I’m here only to keep you at bay —

Daniel looked at him estranged and answered with a smile.

— You had your gun with you? —

Barnes asked heading to the stoop.

— Always, but why do you ask? —

Daniel remained confused.

After the two detectives rang the doorbell a couple of times, rightfully confirming that it didn’t work, they just knocked. It was then that coming from inside the house, a thin voice answered with what sounded like an “I’m coming”.

At the Strange’s house not only the doorbell didn’t work, the grass was also way past the point when it should be cut, the house was only half painted on the front side, and the mailbox was torn to the left. Away from that, it was a very typical house from the suburbs. Built-in wood with a central floor, three or more rooms, and maybe a couple of other areas, covering the basics, it was probably more than the Strange could afford in other circumstances.

When the half-waitress-dressed tiny silhouette of Carrie appeared on the other side of the mosquito screen, her face went pale. At that hour she must have been rushing her way to work, thought Daniel, to find two detectives at her door was definitely not the first thing she would have wanted first in the morning.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

— It’s because of Oliver? —

She answered before any of the detectives could speak a word.

— M’am, we… —

She waved her hand in front of her face, holding her purse, coat, and latch altogether.

— I-I don’t have time right now, could you come another day? —

She seemed stressed, but probably it was so even before they came in. So from surprise, her expression went to one of distress.

She was a pretty woman, late in her forties, beautiful face and a tight body behind her dress. Even though, were the freckles on her face and fallen eyes detonated a certain sadness the very ones that gave her that melancholy look. Like she had suffered a loss that would never be overcome.

— Mam, we’re investigating a separate incident the night of July 28th, we think Oliver could provide us with valuable information, even if he doesn’t know it —

That very same sentence was the one the investigators gave Carrie when they first came looking for Oliver, and the same they had been using since then. From Carrie’s point of view, since they came to the town, every cop had been interested in talking with Oliver about things other people had done. Everything was just Strange.

— I’m… not sure if that’s a good idea… —

Suddenly, Barnes heard a stump in the back of the room, an equally distant voice, yet this time manly, made Carrie turn herself back, carefully enough not to let anyone watch over her. It was Oliver.

— Officers —

He said taking the door by its edge, polite and secure, after crossing a couple of words with Carrie. Carrie, at his side, breathed out a big chunk of air, exasperated. When Daniel saw him, he was nothing like he could’ve ever imagined, just another teenage boy not taller than him, blond messy hair, holding a mug with a half-sleep face.

— Can I help you with anything? —

He said. Daniel didn’t know exactly how to react.

— Yes, buddy, our team may have skipped over some questions last time. I’m sorry to bother you —

Said Barnes, as Daniel cleared his throat.

— Of course, come in, my mom was just leaving —

Carrie couldn’t even say anything but nod, as the two detectives entered the living room.

— Anything to drink? —

Asked the boy as he walked to the kitchen, an adapted space next to the living room separated only by a waist-height wall.

— No, we’re Okay —

Answered Daniel, leaving room for a silence that only broke when Carrie took her keys.

— I.. need to go, I’m sorry. —

She said, clearly wanting to stay.

— Don’t worry mam, we’ll tell you if we need anything else, please —

Conceded Barnes.

Inside the house, there was nothing strange that given the outside look, one couldn’t expect. Yellowish layers of paint over paint had covered the walls of the living room over the years. An open space, the Hall in which they were, narrowed itself into a corridor where one could see a few doors, same corridor that ran all the way to the backyard’s door. Modest yet functional, the place was populated by just a few pieces of furniture garnished with the expectable spread of clothing, papers, and other belongings that made a proper family house.

It was just a regular home, Daniel thought. But there was still something odd in the ambient, almost as if a fog was covering the whole room.

— I’m sorry for the mess, I try to help Mom as much as I can, but is hard to catch up —

Said Oliver from the kitchen.

— Don’t worry, we were the ones who came without call —

Answered Barnes, as the boy blender something in the kitchen.

— This is what you wanted, serve yourself — said Barnes to Daniel in whispers.

Daniel stood on his feet, swallowed, and cleared out his mind.

— Excuse me, Mr. Strange. —

He said.

— Oliver, please —

Replied the boy.

— So, how do you want to start? —

Oliver asked.

Daniel and Barnes shared a strange look.

— Would you mind if we do it in the backyard? —

Said Daniel quickly, Oliver’s expression turned out funny.

— Okay, why not, follow me —

There were about four doors on the way out, Daniel guessed, one for each member of the family and at least a bathroom. He didn’t lose the chance to ask.

— Which one of these is yours? —

Oliver smiled and stopped right in the one next to the backyard one. Opening it wide with a soft kick.

— This one, you wanna look into it? —

He almost challenged. There was nothing odd on the surface, it was the messy room of a teenager, covered with posters and all sorts of things impossible to call in a single sight. But Daniel spots something of his interest.

— Do you skate? —

He asked, pointing with his look at a corner filled with dirty replacement parts and a couple of tables, Oliver nodded with his head.

— Yes, but not that much lately. Do you? —

— No, but my brother did — Daniel lied

— He broke his leg once, although that didn’t stop him from doing it —

— Huh, that sounds cool —

— Yeah, he was sometimes —

Daniel felt curious about his answer.

Laying down on a thin layer of grass under an oak tree, an old heavy wooden table served them as a seat. With the woods barely at a hundred yards, Daniel fell slightly into his seat. Barnes instead, found his place next to the tree, with Oliver sitting in the middle, it was a slight variation of a procedural interrogation stance.

Daniel removed himself from the seat, more secure than before, but still discomforted by either the place, the boy, or the strange feeling surrounding the whole case.

That was the first time he spoke with the boy, but even as short as it was, he felt something was odd. The way he waved his mother from one place to another, the way he faced both Barnes and him, like used to it. Even Daniel had trouble facing the traffic police whenever he was outside of work, that boy suffered from an absolute lack of that common sense fear. And every second Daniel spent in the room with him, he could feel it. He felt strange. He felt unsafe. He felt like trapped in a cage.