Afsakið að þessi saga er á ensku. Þetta var verkefni sem ég gerði í ensku og tókst ágætlega til svo ég ákvað að setja hana hingað!



This is the story of the people who lived on 52nd Avenue in Brooklyn, New York. One particular block, house nr 385.

Upstairs lived old Mr. Hudson. He was a little bit grumpy but didn’t bother anyone, because everybody knew that he was just a bitter old man and that deep down inside he was really a gentleman. There were people still living in the old house who remembered the days when Mrs. Hudson was still alive. How happy they were and the day they brought Jack home from the hospital. The proudest parents in the world. And if they were proud then, they sure were proud the day he graduated from N.Y.C. University. A graduate from law school, fancy that, little Jack. “The very same little Jack that came knocking on my door for cookies with that little innocent smile of his,” as Mrs. Grüder used to say. Mrs. Grüder lived in the apartment next to Mr. Hudson. Her family had moved to New York in 1946 from Berlin. She used to tell the kids in the block terrible stories from her childhood, and the war. She never liked that Hitler fellow. He wasn’t all that nice, she said. Mrs. Grüder used to invite old Mr. Hudson in for coffee on Sundays. Even though he was grumpy, she liked the company. Mr. Hudson would tell her about letters that Jack had written him from California. He said that his wife wanted to take the kids to New York to see their grandfather, but Mr. Hudson wouldn’t hear of it. As if the apartment wasn’t small enough as it was, and he sure wasn’t in any state to have small children around him, that old man… Oh no…

He hadn’t seen his son in over 10 years now. However, Jack still wrote letters even though Mr. Hudson never answered them. Mrs. Grüder thought he was being stupid. She missed little Jack, and really wanted to see him, but Mr. Hudson, that stubborn old bastard, wouldn’t hear of it!

On the 3rd floor lived the Arundhati family; Mr. and Mrs. Arundhati and their 7 children. They were Indian. Mr. Hudson couldn’t stand the smell of that trash food, and he couldn’t stand those noisy little kids. Mrs. Grüder liked the kids, she would babysit them sometimes, when Mrs. Arundhati would bring her girlfriends over for dinner. Mr. Arundhati owned a little bookstore on Manhattan, and as thanks for babysitting the kids, he would give Mrs. Grüder books. Mostly he gave her books about Hinduism and he had given her a really nice version of 1001 Night once. Mrs. Grüder didn’t really like the books, but she smiled and put them at the top of the bookshelf, to be polite, for them to lay there and attract dust, until they had her sneezing so much that she had to get Anita Hetcher on the 2nd floor to help her dust. Anita was a young student from Canada, who was studying psychology. She used to help Mrs. Grüder with her groceries sometimes, when her hips were too bad for her to be able to walk to the store. She hated getting old. She missed her long walks in Central Park. She would take the bus into Manhattan, walk for hours and maybe stop for some coffee.

Mrs. Grüder never married. She had had enough of those nasty men in Germany. All those affairs with those soldiers. She was engaged to one of them once, but he was shot, of course, like all the others. She had never gotten over him. Oh, sure she had met some nice fellows here in America too, but it was never like with Anders, that was his name, so one day she just gave up.

Many families had moved in and out while she had lived in the old house, one stranger than the other, but none ever stranger and more mysterious than Mrs. Havernecker on the 1st floor. She was always sneaking around with her creepy cats. Mrs. Grüder kept a good eye on her. She was determined to know what was there… She knew that that old hag was hiding something. Whenever Mr. Hudson and herself would walk pass her in the hallway, she would rush to the door and get inside as quick as she could. The really strange thing was that she always used to be so nice, until one day when she just stopped talking to anyone and kept inside her apartment all day long. She only got out to empty the trash and occasionally to go to the store. However she always looked at Mrs. Grüder as if she wanted to tell her something. As if she had a terrible secret she wanted off her shoulders.

Mrs. Havernecker had turned strange just about 3 years earlier. About six months after Mrs. Hudson’s death. She died after a long and hard struggle with lung cancer.

One day Mrs. Grüder had decided to go to the store herself, the hips weren’t too bad and the weather was great. Then she stumbled into Mrs. Havernecker. She decided to take a chance, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She was so curious. “Well, good morning Mrs. Havernecker. How are you today?”… No answer. “Listen, would you like to come in for coffee later? I’m baking a cake, and what a shame it would be for me to eat it alone. What do you say?” Mrs. Havernecker hesitated for a while then she finally said: “Well, I guess I have to eat.” “Great, then I’ll see you at noon.” Mrs. Grüder felt confident with herself and rushed to the store to shop for the cake.

The clock showed 12:16 PM. Mrs. Grüder tried to knit in her rocking chair, but she was too restless. All she could hear was the raindrops landing softly on her kitchen window. The cake was on the table, and the coffee was getting cold. Then suddenly the door bell rang and she rushed to the door.

They had eaten and Mrs. Havernecker hadn’t said a word the entire time. Mrs. Grüder had tried to make conversation but it didn’t seem to work. She decided to get right to it. “Look, what happened to you Mrs. Havernecker? I can’t stop thinking of it. I know you want to tell me, so just spit it out and get it over with.”

Mrs. Havernecker seemed surprised and it took her a while to gather her senses. “You see, it’s that crazy old Mr. Hudson…No I really can’t tell you” “Oh don’t worry, nothing would surprise me. He wouldn’t keep any secrets from me you see.” “Well…I’m not sure you want to hear this, but I’ll tell you anyway. One day just about half a year after Mrs. Hudson’s death I decided to visit poor old Mr. Hudson and bring him a nice apple pie. Try to cheer him up you know. He opened the door and didn’t seem to want me there. He let me in anyway. The apartment was dirty, dark and just disgusting. He went to the kitchen. That’s when I decided to sneak around, God help me I never should have done that. I opened the door to the old guestroom. The sight was just…” She started crying and the look on Mrs. Grüder’s face was getting more angry than surprised really, but she tried to calm her down. “Go on, it’s okay. Just get it out.” “There were bodies. HIS WIFE, in a glass cage. She was wearing her wedding dress. There were b-b-b-b-bodyparts in glasses and jars. The smell was disgusting. Then he came. MY LORD. He threatened me. He said that if I didn’t tell anyone he might spare my life.” She took up her handkerchief and wiped away the tears. “HOW COULD HE!? I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Mrs. Grüder had the strangest look on her face. She was in shock. “We have to go up there right now, and you have to show me this mess.” “No, No, No… I can’t go back there. He’ll kill me.” “No, he won’t. Then he’ll have to kill me first, and he could never do that.” Against her will Mrs. Havernecker followed her to his apartment. Mrs. Grüder stormed right in. She had a key. Mr. Hudson came out of the bathroom. He was shaving and dried the foam of his face. “What is this?!! Mrs. Grüder, what are you doing?” “You better show us this thing, right now!” She burst to the “guestroom”, opened the door and screamed from the top of her lungs; “HOW COULD YOU???!” Mrs. Havernecker was crying, when she suddenly felt something hard hitting her head. Mrs. Grüder was standing in the middle of the room with a hammer in her hand, looking angrily at Mr. Hudson. “What’s going on Roberta?” Mr. Hudson scratched his head. “How could you? Why didn’t you tell me that she saw it?” “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it mattered. We were going to take her down anyway.” “Yes, you’re right. Our final project! Our last trophy!” Mr. Hudson smiled at her and looked at his beautiful wife in her classic white dress. His big trophy, his favourite. She was a beauty.

“Well…Carl, we better get to work” Mrs. Grüder said with an evil smile on her face, almost like she was excited.



THE END!!