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Day 8~
Crooked~
“There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence upon a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse, And they all lived together in a little crooked house.”
Dean looked up at the old, weather worn house with its dark windows and its sagging porch. He didn’t know why but that little rhyme popped into his head whenever he passed by the place. Kids loved to talk about the creepy old man that lived in the house and how he liked to eat little kids if he caught them alone outside of his property late at night. So of course the little shits liked to come and tempt fate, yelling up at the place late at night, or even throwing crap like empty beer cans at the house, or rocks in an attempt to “draw out the creepy old guy”. Dean had taken to looking for damage done by these punks to see if he should offer help with repairs, but he’d seriously been considering just going and offering anyway because the house was really beginning to fall into disrepair. He spotted a broken window on the first floor and that spurred him into motion. Whoever lived in this house, they didn’t deserve to be treated like this.
He opened the creaking gate and walked up the weed strewn path to the stairs. They were warped, crooked and sagging worse up close than he’d thought they were from a distance. Testing each one to make sure he didn’t fall through them, he climbed them and knocked on the door.
“Who’s there?” The voice on the other side was deep, gravelly, definitely male, but it also sounded frightened.
“My name is Dean Winchester, sir, and I live down the street at number 1482. I know that the punk kids in this area have been jerks and have thrown things at your house, and I also noticed they broke one of your windows. I would like to offer to fix that for you.” Dean stood patiently, waiting to see if the man would open the door or not. A long moment passed before he heard a series of locks click. When the door finally did open, the blue eyes that met his own green ones were not looking at him from eye level. He had to look down at the man peering out at him.
“Why do you want to help me?”
“Because I’m not an asshole, and I think the kids in this neighborhood are jerks. If you hear someone out here yelling at them, or hear the cops out here yelling at them, it’s me calling on them for harassing you.”
The man opened the door more and that’s when Dean saw the wheelchair. He hated the asshole kid even more.
“They threw a chunk of concrete at the house last night and it came through the window. It actually hit me while I was watching television.”
“Damn, are you ok?” Dean asked, feeling both worried and angry now for this man, despite not even knowing him. The man’s wary expression eased up and he smiled tentatively.
“I think so? It hit my knee.”
“I’m actually a medic. Would you mind if I took a look?” Dean asked.
“Really? You’re a medic?”
“I’m actually a firefighter, but I’m also a medic.” Dean clarified. The man opened the door completely and offered his hand.
“My name is Cas.”
Dean shook it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you Cas.”
“Come inside, but be careful, the front porch is falling apart. I use the garage where I have a ramp that leads directly to my van.”
Dean moved from the porch into the house and closed the door behind him. From there he moved over to the broken window. Cas had covered it with some newspaper that he’d taped in place.
“I can put in a new pane. I just have to measure this one and I’ll order the new one, grab some caulk and I can install it tomorrow.”
“I have a measuring tape. Just give me a few minutes.” Cas said, and quickly rolled out of the room. Dean pushed the curtains back, flooding the room with sunlight. The place wasn’t bad, and inside didn’t look half as dilapidated as the outside.
“Here it is. I haven’t used it in a while but it should work.” Cas handed it over and Dean did a quick measurement of the window. He noticed a crack in the upper frame too.
“Damn those brats!”
“Another one is broken?” Cas asked.
“Yeah, the upper glass is in two pieces. Guess it’s a good thing they did this in the summer and not winter.” Dean said. “I’ll get these measurements down to Garth at the hardware store right now, and pick up the glass tomorrow.” He pulled out his phone and made the call. Garth promised to have the new panes ready by the following afternoon.
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure how to get those fixed. I really don’t leave the house very much. My brother brings groceries by, but usually very early in the morning on his way to work, and that’s too early to ask him to fix a window. I-I didn’t want to bother him. I was trying to figure out how to do it myself.” Cas twisted his hands together in his lap as he looked up at Dean. He was not the crotchety, scary old man the bratty kids had made him out to be. Hell, he had to be somewhere around Dean’s age, maybe a few years older.
“I used to fix all sorts of things with my dad growing up, and I still do. I can get that porch fixed for you too. It’s violating a number of health codes right now and if you haven’t been hit with fines yet, you will be soon. I can even put in a ramp.”
“Why? You just met me, you don’t know me. I could be the asshole the kids seem to think I am.” Cas crossed his arms and pursed his lips. “Or are you this generous with every cripple you meet?”
“Whoa, you this self-deprecating all the time or do you just naturally assume the worst in everyone?” Dean countered. “I’m offering because you’re my neighbor, and I’ve been seeing this house going down in condition for years, and I’d like to see it come back to life. I knew someone lived here because I can see lights on from time to time, but I never saw you before this moment, so if you think I was offering because you’re in a wheelchair, you’re reading me way wrong. I told you before, I’m not the asshole here.”
Cas’ arms relaxed and he wheeled himself closer. “I apologize, and I would very much appreciate the help, but I would also like to actually help. I might be in a wheelchair but I’m able to work hard.”
“Great. How are you with a saw?” Dean asked. Cas blinked in surprise, as though he hadn’t expected to be taken seriously.
“Oh, well, it’s been a long time but I used to be able to use one just fine.”
“Good. I’m off Tuesdays and Saturdays. If you have the time, we can pick up materials and get your porch fixed up, plus anything else around here that’s falling apart. I think I’ll grab my mower and cut your lawn too. That will help to stop the punk kids from hiding and doing damage, and it will keep the city off your back.” Dean said.
“Yes, they’ve been lenient so far about cutting my grass, but…” Cas frowned.
“It’s cool, I have a riding mower, with hand controls, not foot pedals. You could use it if you want. In fact, if you want, I’ll bring it down and you can mow while I measure the porch. Then I can get an estimate for the cost.”
“You’d let me use your mower?” Cas asked, smiling softly.
“Sure, why not?” Dean shrugged. “You’re not going to go crashing it into a tree, are you?”
Cas chuckled, low and deep. “No, I do not plan to.”
“Hey, let me take a look at that knee. Do you have a first aid kit?”
Cas turned his chair around and started out of the room. “In the bathroom. It’s this way.”
Dean followed and once Cas laid the box on the sink, he sat down on the closed toilet seat to take a look at Cas’ knee. He grimaced at the deep purple bruising and the swelling. After a careful check he was fairly certain it wasn’t broken, just badly bruised.
“Can you feel that at all?”
“Yes. I don’t have total feeling loss, only about 85%.” Cas replied.
“Can I ask what happened? Was it an injury or something genetic?”
Cas frowned as he watched Dean bandage his knee. “It was my own stupidity, really. I was jogging a trail the morning after a bender with some friend. I should have stayed home, I wasn’t entirely sober, but I’d never not gone for a run, not since I’d started running when I was 11, so I picked my favorite trail and I went. It had rained that morning, I slipped where part of the trail had eroded and I went over the cliff. Fell about 15 feet and broke my back.”
“Accidents happen. How did you come to live here?” Dean asked. “And how long have you even been here? I only noticed the lights coming back on last year.”
“That’s when I moved in. This was my aunt’s house, but she died and willed the house to me. She felt I’d be able to get around better because the rooms are bigger, except this is a three story house, and I can’t go upstairs. I don’t think she considered that.” Cas sighed and shook his head. “I’m appreciative, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t make enough money to order one of those fancy lift chairs that will carry me up to upper floors, and there’s an elevator, but it doesn’t work. I don’t think it’s worked in decades.”
“I bet I can get it working. I’m good with anything mechanical. Fixing cars is a hobby of mine, and if I can’t do it, I bet I know someone that does.” Dean smiled. “We’ll get this place fixed right up.”
Cas smiled back. “I guess you’re not an asshole after all.”
Dean threw his head back and laughed. “I told you I’m not. And I guess you’re not the creepy old hermit that eats children that sneak onto his property at night.”
Cas barked out a startled laugh. “Well that’s a new one on me. Hmm, I might consider it if they keep throwing rocks through my damn windows.”
Dean decided he liked this man. He liked him a whole lot.
~~~~~~~~~~
The windows got fixed, and over the next few weeks, so did the porch, the elevator, the stove, the back door, the basement steps, the tiles that were coming up in the kitchen, and the lawn got mowed every single week. Dean, with help from Cas, laid down a brand new stone walkway all the way out to the creaky, old, crooked gate which Dean set right, oiled, and painted so it looked fresh. The more time he spent helping Cas, the more he grew to like the man. He wasn’t sure when exactly it was that he realized he had feelings for the man, or how he knew that Cas had feelings for him, but it was just before Christmas when he found the courage to kiss the man for the first time. Somehow, someway, he’d fallen in love with the crooked man in the crooked house, and that year for a present, so he wasn’t so alone, he’d bought him a crooked little cat.