text: Shady Pines has one street that is very quiet. Cars rarely drive by. Kids don't play in the street near one house in particular. Old Man Henry's house. He never leaves the house, and all his food is delivered right to his door. He sits in the window, staring into the street, waiting for a kid to go on his lawn. Then he flies through the wall, grabs the kid, and takes them into the house, where he eats them. And the house is haunted by a whole bunch of ghosts. At least, that's what my neighbor Kay Alfred says. He always tells tall tales, trying to get attention. After he told me the story, he dared me to go inside, and said that he would give me 20 dollars to do it. We walked to the house, Kay trying to tell me it wouldn’t work. He just didn’t want to pay me. I started walking up to the porch while Kay chuckled behind me. The house sure looked haunted, with grey, peeling paint, rusted shutters, and dead grass. When I got to the porch, it creaked and groaned like a dying cow. I steeled nerves, then knocked on the old rusty door before I chickened out. I heard noises behind and in front of me. Banging from the house, and sneakers running down the sidewalk. Kay was ditching me! The door squeaked open and Old Man Henry poked his head out. He seemed like a normal old man, so I said hello. He groused in a gruff voice ,“What do you want?” so I asked to come in. He let me in, and we chatted for a while. He told me his story. “I was a young man when I moved here, way before you had been born. I had a beautiful wife named Lucy Moor. We had moved from Idaho, and wanted a quiet place to live together. Sadly, the trip got her sick. She went to a doctor, but no one could help. She died, and I have lived alone for the last 25 years, mourning her loss.” That was so sad. I told him I would visit him, maybe bring my mom and dad. He smiled and showed me the rest of his house. It was a normal house, nothing haunted or creepy about it. We talked until the sun was starting to set, me telling him stories about myself, him telling me about what everything was like in his day. Turns out he's just an old man who misses his wife and wants a little company. I introduced Mom and Dad and we visited him for five more years, until he died in his sleep. He was a good friend, and I still miss him a little bit, but now he’s up with his love, and they will stay together forever. Every month, I go to his house. He left most of the stuff there to me, seeing as he was an only child, with no kids and no friends but me. I always clean up the dust, then turn on the record player. I read while letting it play, losing myself to the book and the music. No one else ever visited him. I always tried to get them to, but they all thought I was nuts. Some even thought I was trying to get them “eaten”. It hurt a little, especially when Kay spread the rumor I would kidnap people and send them to Mr. Henry. When we moved into middle school it sort of stopped. Most people were nicer, and if Kay tried to make fun of others (specifically me) others stood up for me. Henry was forgotten, and they started harassing the old lady who lived in a nearby neighborhood. They called her Witch Elinor, and egged her house on Halloween. I say everyone forgot Henry, but I never did. I made new friends, but they were new. We talked about boys and clothes. I never talked about the 60’s or how I knew who sang Send Me A Postcard. (A guy called Shocking Blue) I may try to make a new old friend. I might try to talk to Elinor. She could have come from a far country, or have lost her husband like Henry had. She needed a friend, and the stories about her were probably 99.9% imagination. Sure the house was purple and weird, and the roses bushes were a dark purple, but that just may be he favorite color. Another year passed, and my life got a little more busy. I had a club, band, and schoolwork. Still, no matter what, I still visit Henry’s house, put on the record, and look through his photo albums. I still needed to read one more but I got too busy to read it. About three weeks later, it was summer. I wanted to see that album. When I opened it I saw a note written in blue pen. It said “ Dear Miley, I wanted to thank you for the wonderful company you gave me. In all the long years I lived here, I wanted to talk to people, but I couldn't leave the house I had wanted to be in with my love. Others were too scared to come. Then you came and filled each day with stories and laughter. Eventually, I was brave enough to leave the house. Thanks to you, I saw all of this town. When you read this I will be long gone, but you carry my memory inside. Stay bold, Henry ” I was touched. He cared about me. Many years passed, and I went away to college. I told my parents to dust the house every month, and play his record while they did it. I left for three years. When I got back, his house was still there. I moved in and started to write. I wrote his story. Even when I grew up and got married, I lived in Henry’s house. I raised my family here, and even though we remodeled, I kept all his old stuff upstairs. Everyday, after work, I still go upstairs and listen to that old record.