The Will of Leo: Chapter One

I've decided that when I can't get around to writing a new blog entry I'm just simply going to post chapters from my unfinished novel. I haven't touched this baby for years, and these words have been collecting dust in my harddrive for too long, and its time they see the light of the blogoshpere day. So grab a feather duster, sit back, and enjoy the following:

The Will of Leo

Chapter 1

Old Leo had that sign finished before Will Gordon’s black two ton pickup came to a stop in the driveway directly across from Leo’s precious .75 acre lot on which his home sits on its foundation like a sunken ship in a beanbag chair. The sign read in blaze orange paint, Keep Out! Private Property! It was carefully placed next to a tall rod iron gate that wasn’t there, which protected Leo’s estate from damn thieves and vacuum cleaner salesmen. Most of the day, Leo stared into his surveillance monitor, or window, and kept his one good eye on passersby who never came, ready to spring out of his mud porch to curse and yell, “Get the goddam hell out of here!” If you dared stand in front of Leo’s lot long enough to count the signs that in one way or another declared, No Trespassing! you would count twenty-nine. The fresh sign recently placed at the end of his driveway made it an even thirty. Will Gordon didn’t pay much attention to Leo’s dwelling, and the day he moved in began something quite remarkable.
Leo Holmes, of 39 East Hollow Road, was not a contributor to society and was considered by the local folks of Brambush as an old crank with a chip on his shoulder, who mumbled and grumbled and rarely exchanged pleasantries. His home was purchased nearly twenty years ago, and as far as anyone could tell, not a cent was put into it since. There was a time when the end of East Hollow road was to be a new housing development for well-to-do folks, but nothing ever became of it, and no one can explain why the developer, Arthur Fern, abandoned the project suddenly and left town, never to be heard from again. Coincidentally, the Pinkham family, who lived happily in the house across from Leo’s, moved out overnight, abandoning the place, never to be heard from again. The house remained empty for the duration of time between their abrupt departure and Will Gordon’s arrival. It stayed on the market without so much as a bite, and slowly deteriorated with the determined will of time and had recently been up for demolition due to its desperate condition, but was suddenly snatched up by Mr. Gordon, who moved in the following day, without even removing the plywood from the window frames.
Leo, suddenly without preparations, had his first neighbor in seventeen years. Now, there was an actual person living within view, who could look out of their own window and see his property and look for ways to infiltrate it. More signs were needed for sure, but that wouldn’t be enough, and Leo got right down to work.