“It was an early fall day on the weekend,” he said. “Bit cooler than today but pleasant enough. I’d been whistling a cheerful tune as I made my way up the porch steps. The reason I remember I was whistling is because suddenly the tune seemed too loud in the still surroundings. The song died on my lips but seemed to linger in the air for a few seconds before being swept away by the breeze. You know what I mean? When a song or a burst of laughter is followed by silence so still the sound seems to just hang there for a moment or two?”

Jessica nodded. She knew exactly what the old man meant.

“Anyways, I walked up the rest of the steps onto the porch. My ears alert, listening for any sounds. You see, I’d been at that house on Morrison countless times since Eleanor moved in, and the place was always a riot of noise. Especially on a weekend. Usually a radio would be playing, or those kids’ cartoons were blaring on the TV. You’d hear Eleanor and little Alicia laughing and shouting. Usual family stuff. Not that day, though. I remember thinking that brown house looked like a giant bear in the midst of a winter hibernation.”

Jessica shuddered, knowing all too well how the story was going to end.

“What did you do next?” she asked.

“I wasn’t too concerned at first,” he said. “I assumed they’d overslept. It was Saturday, after all. Then I checked the time on my watch. It was 10:37 a.m. exactly. I told you, I can remember every little detail. I was much later making my rounds than usual. Old Mrs. Knight, who lived at the end of the street, had insisted on making me coffee before providing a detailed update of her arthritis problems. Mrs. Knight’s ailments were of absolutely no interest to me, but her coffee was the proper stuff, not that crap from a jar, and a half hour had passed before I’d even realized how late it was.”

Chuck stubbed out his cigarette on the arm of the bench and lit another. He offered Jessica the pack again. She shook her head.

“All of a sudden, it didn’t seem so likely they’d just overslept,” he said. “My own two kids were teenagers by then, but I remembered all too well how sleeping in was a rare thing when you had little kids. Always up early and jumping around, and from my own experience of visiting the house in the past, little Alicia was no different. It was too soon to make the trip Eleanor had spoken about, so I racked my brain, tried to remember if she had mentioned going away for the weekend. But the station wagon was parked in the driveway, and she was expecting the parcel I was delivering, so I didn’t think so. That’s when I started to worry.”