Weird Normality
an excerpt

Kane Holsman was, for lack of a better term, average. Kane was average in all ways shapes and forms, average in looks, average in grades and study habits, he was at best a friend and at worst an acquaintance. In fact there was nothing to set Kane apart from anyone else with the tiniest of exceptions, Kane talked to himself. Or rather he talked to the air around him and people shrugged it off as another “Kane moment.” And so did Kane go on with his average life, meeting with his average friends, keeping up his average grades and talking to his apparently not so average self.

“So, another history project...I was thinking the beginning of Rock 'n Roll.” Kane said to himself out loud, then as if waiting for an answer he tilted his head slightly to the right looking up toward the sky. “Maybe.” Kane said in reply to the sky. “But it's still a lot more fun than last year's project 'Camelot: Fact or Fiction.'” Kane laughed to himself in remembrance of that report and then taking a small breath broke into a quick run down the street and to the left heading home down the last remaining dirt road.

The old dirt road had been there as long as Kane could remember, in fact it was once the busiest road in town as it was the only road that connected to a state-highway which later dumped onto the closest interstate for a hundred miles. But as road construction made the small town of Engle Brook into a “developing metropolis,” as Mayer Winkleburg liked to call it, the road gradually lost it's only redeeming quality and became the longest way to get to the interstate. As traffic slowed so did any interest in paving the old road leaving it to it's wild surroundings. Kane loved this road for these very reasons, it was quiet, the dirt was soft, and the trees grew in close to the road emphasizing its remoteness from modern civilization.

And so it was that on this one single piece of forgotten road Kane made his way home discussing between himself and the sky the multitude of projects he could do for school. As he walked he noticed out of the corner of his eye a small shape hidden amongst the trees, he knew the shape well as it was always in that same spot every time he walked to or from school. It was the “ghost house” as many liked to call it, for like the road it was the oldest house in the town and as was the habit of local superstition a ghostly presence was created to add some drama to the town's life. Kane had been there once before on a typical boyhood dare, and found naught but cobwebs and dust. Then again it was around this same time that Kane had begun to talk to himself. And as Kane passed directly in front of the small building in the distance a tall dark figure appeared by his side.

Kane loved to reflect upon the first time he had ever met this man, his sudden appearance startled Kane the first time but by now he was quite use to it.

“What about this road?” The man asked quietly as the continued to walk side by side.

“The road? Does it have a history?” Kane asked as he looked down at the road passing slowly beneath his feet.

“Yes, just as you or I, but much better. This road was the first road into town, it was on this road a small battle was fought between the North and the South during the Civil War and it was on this road that I first set up house.” The man said with a hint of pride in his voice.

“The battle and first road are cool, but do you really think anyone will care about you?” Kane asked in a jocular tone.

The man snorted in retort then gave Kane a swift slap on the back which sent Kane about three steps further than he had meant to go.