Eerie, Indiana fanfiction: Auction

[froodle]

The old oak sideboard had sat in the Teller’s bright, cluttered kitchen since Marshall had first arrived in Eerie. Before that it had nestled awkwardly in a crowded corridor in their old house in New Jersey. For years it had been the repository of unused Christmas crackers, out-of-date birthday cards and the kind of egg-shell thin, exquisitely painted flatware that comes in a specialised packing case and is taken out on special occasions, only for something to end up chipped, or broken, or accidently put through the dishwasher and scratched beyond repair.

Now the cabinet’s heavy double doors stood open, the dark and empty interior smelling of aged wood and mothballs. Soup plates and finger bowls and serving platters were stacked in teetering towers on the floor around it, each piece bearing a bright-coloured post-it note labelled in Marshall’s grandmother’s neatly printed handwriting.

“Grandma?” Marshall called from the doorway, hanging back from the precarious piles of heirloom china. “You okay?”

Lillian Bancroft’s blue-rinsed curls rose into view above a sixteen-person soup tureen decorated with climbing roses in spring greens and sunrise pinks.

“Hello dear,” she said, getting slowly to her feet and wiping dusty fingers on a soft chamois. “Your mom and I are just having a bit of a clear-out before charity auction season starts in earnest.”

Marshall set down the six-foot high roll of bubble wrap he had carried home tied to the back of his bicycle at his mother’s request, easing cautiously past it towards his grandma. He un-slung his backpack and removed multiple rolls of packing tape, passing them one by one into her outstretched hands.

“That explains the shopping list,” he said. Five glittering champagne flutes of striking beauty and workmanship and a sixth broken off at the stem caught his attention, nestled against the midnight-blue velvet lining of a carry case made for twelve.

“‘Homeowners Association of Eerie’,” he read aloud, smoothing out the neon green slip of paper stuck to the case's glossy leather exterior. He turned to Lillian, eyebrows raised.

“I thought you hated those guys?" he asked. "Last time they came ’round to talk about acceptable colours for decorative borders used on flower beds in private gardens, you just walked away from them and closed the door in their faces.”

“I don’t hate them,” said Lillian. “I just find them tedious and petty human beings who pitch a fit over the wrong shade of pink in a seashell border in a fenced-in backyard, but don’t have the sense to notice when a devil-worshipping cult is growing a summoning circle out of bedding plants in Deadwood Park.”

“That was pretty cool, though,” said Marshall wistfully. The devil had last been topside during the seventies and had been very hurt at the number of citizens who wouldn’t make a deal with a man wearing that much polyester.

Lillian gave him a look brimming with mock-severity.

“People could have gotten hurt, Mars,” she said. “At the very least, the amount of hairspray needed to get a bouffant that high inside a dragon breeding ground is a recipe for disaster.”

Marshall made a non-committal noise. As far as he was concerned, hiking enthusiasts who chose to go bouldering on giant jewel-toned dragon eggs deserved what they got.

“I’m just surprised you’d be giving them great-grandma’s crystal,” he said, gesturing at the diminished set of glasses.

"My great-grandma," Lillian corrected. "Your great-great-great grandma. Grandma Cubed, or Grandma with a tiny flying three if you're writing it down."

"Still though," said Mars. "You've never even let Mom and Dad use this stuff and now you're giving it away to a group of local busybodies that you don't even like to raise money for a cause you agree is stupid?"

"Oh," said Lillian. "Well, that's because it's cursed."

Marshall blinked. His grandma flipped the lid shut on the glasses and snapped the latch down. Inside their polished leather prison, the crystal sang.





Teller Family History

First Date by froodle, in which a young Edgar Teller shows off one of his earlier inventions

Popcorn by froodle. Friday night is always movie night in the Teller household.

The Teller Home for Displaced Youth by froodle, in which Edgar harbours some doubts about his new home town

Lawn by froodle, in which Marilyn Teller contemplaces some yardwork

Tornado Day, Revisited by froodle, in which Syndi learns exactly what it means to be Miss Tornado Day

Wildlife by froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach

Culinary Delights by froodle, in which Syndi's terrible cooking may or may not have been an accident

Camping by froodle, in which Syndi cannot sleep

Artist in the Family by froodle, in which an immortal creature takes a liking to Syndi

Without Due Care and Attention by froodle, in which Syndi finally becomes mobile

Waiting In by froodle, in which there is an ice-storm and a handyman does not arrive

Brunch by froodle, in which Marilyn does not appreciate Edgar's help in the kitchen

Handmade by froodle, in which the Tellers receive a Christmas package from Marilyn's mother

Poor Life Choices by froodle, in which Syndi loves her brother anyway

Lillian by froodle, in which Marilyn's mother has concerns

Visitor by froodle, in which Marshall's grandma comes to stay

Nap by froodle, in which Marshall has a quiet moment in the Secret Spot

Fresh Sheets by froodle

Tradition by froodle, in which Dash and Marshall decorate a Christmas tree

Hometown by froodle, in which Mars and Syndi visit New Jersey

Comments

[evilinsanemonkey]

I love Marshall's grandmother. So much.

[froodle]

Sure she'll donate to your stupid charity event that she doesn't believe in. Donate a CURSE!!

[deifire]

Same. This is brilliant!

[froodle]

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it :D