Ever-so slightly continued ending for
"Location! Location!" by JoeAnn Hart

When Aaron and Elizabeth accepted "Location! Location!" for Hobart, they asked would I mind lopping off the last few paragraphs of the story because they preferred that the outside world not intrude on Adam's. I understand how that feels. For those of us whose inner life is a fragile construction, it's hard to see reality come hiking in from civilization. So off came the original ending, only to be carefully preserved in a file waiting for the day when the entire collection of real estate stories appears together as one big happy family. Since these stories are linked by the meta-story of the realtor, and the realtor in this story only appears at the very end, the end would have to be restored for the sake of continuity, such as it is.

Someday they will say that Adam was here "since 2006" and then I will be part of the pattern too. (Hobart ends here.)

I hear a crow. Something is coming. I put the book inside my shirt to keep it safe and put my hand on the hatchet. Two people. Shouting "go away" does not work on people. It just brings them closer.

"Damion?" It is the skinny woman who’s been here before, who yells. "Damion, are you there? I’m showing this property to this nice man and I want you to leave us alone, do you hear?"

Her voice gets low and lower like I can’t hear, but I am able to detect even the slightest sound in the woods. It is what keeps me alive while death surrounds me.

"Weird kid from town," the skinny woman whispers to the "nice man." "Even though he’s not really a kid anymore, except... here." The woman taps her head, where stubby girl antlers would be in another life. Her "nice man" nods, and looks around, a little afraid, while the skinny woman keeps talking and talking. "Ran away from the Home to live here in a hole. He’s missing a few parts if you get my drift, but he’s harmless. I’ll call social services when we get back to the office, but you’ve got to admit, he’s got taste. Look at that pretty little clearing. You build your cabin here, you can hunt without ever having to get up from the sofa. Now watch, he’s probably crouching in that hole, but it’s best to ignore him. I should have sent the state to clear him out long ago, but I’m just an old softie underneath."

They laugh and laugh, but nothing is funny. They don't know the truth even when it comes out their own mouths. Like the deer, we will all get soft underneath in time, food for the strange families of bugs in the universe. And that is a fact you can take to the bank.