Excerpt: Craftsman

Chapter One

“It needs a little work here and there, but it’s perfectly livable.”

Ben Hogan only nodded silently at his realtor, then he tilted his head up to examine the ceiling. He took note of the yellowish tinge, a coloring most likely from years of smoking by some previous owner. There was also a hole near one of the corners where it looked as if a hook had been set into the plaster but had at some point been yanked out forcibly.

The two men had spent the last hour poking around the house on a second, more critical look. To say it needed a little work here and there was on the verge of being an understatement. Ben had taken mental note of the scars left behind from the years of multiple changes of ownership and the neglect that comes with not living in a location long enough to care for it. The house was indeed something that a person could live in immediately, though, which was what Ben needed and soon.

The realtor watched as Ben ran his finger along the window sill, ponder the dust that collected on his finger, then look out onto the small, open porch just out the front window.

“So, how long will it take to put together an offer?” Ben’s voice wavered with a mixture of trepidation and forlorn acceptance.

“All you have to do is settle on a price,” the realtor coughed into his closed fist. “Then it only takes a few minutes to just plug all the information into the contract and fax it off.”

Ben nodded again, then asked, “What do you think I should offer?”

“That’s not my decision,” the realtor smiled. “Offer what you think they’ll take.”

This wasn’t the answer that Ben wanted to hear, but he knew it was the one he was going to get. It had been quite some time since Ben had last purchased a house, and the two that he had previously owned were chosen by the woman who he had just recently divorced.

They were, as she said, the perfect homes for their growing family.

“How about you give that number a little thought, Mr. Hogan,” the realtor suggested, patting Ben on the shoulder. “There’s a few things I need to pull together and look up on the house. These foreclosures can sometimes have a few surprises, so maybe you should stop by my office tomorrow afternoonish.”

“Yeah,” Ben’s voice cracked. “Yeah. I can make it around, say, three?”

A grin spread across the realtor’s face. “Should be plenty of time. And I’ll, uh,” he paused to take a quick glance around, “I’ll recommend a good house inspector. Just in case. I mean, looking around she’s got good bones, but it’s still smart to bring a professional to check things out.”

“Yeah,” Ben sighed. “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

“So,” the realtor stopped there.

“So,” repeated Ben.

“So, you first, Mr. Hogan. I need to lock up behind us.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” Ben gave a half-hearted chuckle and headed for the door. His realtor, unsure of what the joke was, chuckled along with his client anyway as Ben exited the house.

After locking the door and securing the key, he turned to find Ben slowly backing away from the house.

“Is everything all right, Mr. Hogan?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” Ben sounded vacant. “Yeah, I’m just taking it all in. I didn’t think I’d actually find something around here, much less this fast. This whole thing was just so, well, fast.”

The realtor smiled warmly and patted Ben on the shoulder again. “Mr. Hogan, I can’t pretend to be able to be able to fix all of your problems. But I can say that I’ve got a good vibe about this house. It’s been sitting on the market for a bit, and houses have a way of finding the right owner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Greg.”