Penter Painter's: The Statue at the McCullen Estate
Here's a little holiday story for another fantastic collaboration effort on Substack!
Hi friends, before I get into the story, I just want to draw attention to the amazing work being being done on yet another collaboration project here on Substack! If you have the time, check out everything there is to offer under the Penter Painter’s story collection, brough to life by Cole Noble
December 8th: Lunch
“You see the Trout kid is back in town?” Jack asked the group through a mouthful of chili.
“Oh yeah that’s right.” Darla, the decoration coordinator said as she sat down on the curb outside the McCullen house with Jack.
“I heard his pops was asking Chuck to give him a job for the holidays.” Jack took a bite of the piping hot chili, warming himself then continued, “Boss told him he’d think about it.”
“He home for the holidays already?” Darla asked.
“Kinda. That fancy school in N-Y-C apparently has their final exams online these days, so he came home early. Heard his parents wanna put him to work though.”
“All this shit’s online nowadays.” George, the food truck operator called over to them as he leaned out of his service window, “Wonder what the kids are even paying for.”
“At a hoity toity school like that? I think you mean, ‘What the parents are paying for.’” Jack corrected, raising his coffee cup to George.
“How do you know all this stuff anyways?”
“Because…” Brett said as he joined them on the curb with his packed lunch, “Jack here does pilates with Mrs. Trout.” Jack feigned anger,
“Can it, Brett.” They all shared a laugh. There was a long pause, then Darla began,
“You think Chuck will get Danny to work with us, huh? Kind of hope so because -”
“Don’t.” Jack cut her off. “Don’t jinx it.” The three of them turned and looked beyond the high metal fence of the McCullen house at the statue in the center. Everyone hated the statue, but Francis McCullen insisted that they sent people out to decorate it. Jack was convinced Francis did it out of spite after the legal battle the town put the McCullen family through. They always saved it for last - not out of spite. Out of discomfort.
“We’ve got three days.” Brett said, keeping his eyes on the statue.
“Man, that thing’s disgusting.” George said. The statue was a man standing fully nude, arms outstretched with a distorted grin upon its face. Clearly whoever modeled the face didn’t quite get the facial features right. “I signed the petition back in the day.”
“We all did.” Darla replied.
“You know, we should be glad property rights are so strong…” Brett added.
“Yeah, but couldn’t they make an exception? The thing’s weird.” Darla replied.
“It’s downright creepy.” Jack added. Brett grinned,
“Yeah. Let’s talk to Chuck. Get an intern to do it.”
December 9th: 9am
“Ha! What do you know?” Jack said as he hopped out of his Ford truck. Standing uncomfortably at the fence was Danny Trout. He was a young lanky kid. He had on a puffy coat and snow boots that looked like they were a few sizes too big - probably his dad’s. Daniel was a freshman in college with wispy hair and the tired face of someone who hadn’t woken up before 9am since high school.
“Good morning, Mr. Harrison.”
“Morning, Danny. How’s school treatin’ you?”
“Fine.” Daniel replied.
“That’s good. Real good…” Jack trailed off. “Well, we’re glad to have you on the team. We’ve got two more days to turn this behemoth of an estate into the perfect Christmas home. A place Santa would stay for the summer. Sounds fun, right?” Daniel stared at Jack, his brain looked like it was lagging behind. Jack imagined an old dial-up modem behind his blank stare. “You alright, Danny?” He asked.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good, good. Listen, wake yourself up a little, alright? How about you walk the block and go get us the shittiest coffee in town?”
“The gas station stuff?”
“Damn right. And fill your pockets with creamer because that’s the only way we’re getting through it. When you’re awake, we’ll get to work on this beast. We need 5 coffees, got it?”
“5 for who?”
“Well one each for you and me. Then we got Darla, Brett, and George.”
“George the food truck guy?”
“Yeah! He loves coming by while we work. He’s a good guy.” Daniel shrugged,
“Alright.” He turned and started walking down the block. Jack turned and began unpacking the truck. He got the ladder ready, and turned to look at the statue. That damn statue. The worst thing was the way it always seemed to be looking.
Always staring.
December 9th: Lunch
Jack, Darla, and Brett sat down on the curb, drinking cold coffee and eating some below average street corn. George was proud of branching out into new things, so they didn’t tell him.
“Kid’s doing good work.” Darla commented. They looked through the fence and Daniel was streaming lights across the hedges that ran along the fence on either side of the house. They were part of the agreement Francis McCullen made with the neighborhood so the estate wouldn’t have to take the statue down.
“You see the way he keeps looking at the statue. His family puritan?” Brett asked with a laugh.
“No, no. They’re not from here originally. I think they’re Jewish or something.” Jack replied.
“I was just joking, man…” Brett trailed off and took a drink of his coffee. “Doesn’t matter anyways.”
“Hey! How’s it comin’?” Darla called over to Daniel.
“Good, I think!” Daniel replied.
“Great! Come get some food!” Daniel walked through the archway of the fence and out onto the sidewalk. Daniel slumped down onto the curb next to the crew.
“So, what’s the deal with that statue?” He asked.
“What about it?” Jack replied through a mouthful of food.
“It’s creepy… and doesn’t it violate some sort of public indecency laws or something?”
“Private property, Danny… so not exactly, no.” Jack replied. He took a bite out of his street corn and washed it down with the frigid coffee.
“How’s it’s eyes move like that?” Danny asked. He looked over his shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck.
“What do you mean?” Darla asked.
“Whenever I’m working… I keep turning around. I swear, it’s staring at me. I can feel it. I swear.”
“Whoa there, Danny. Maybe that caffeine’s getting to you?” Jack warned.
“Yeah, the thing’s weird, but not that weird.”
“I drink coffee all the time. Stronger stuff than this but… I don’t know, maybe you’re right.” Daniel gave up.
“It’s got a way of feeling like its watching you. Like one of those old paintings… but it’s not really. How bout you sit down and eat, kid? Some food might help.” Jack said and gestured to an open spot on the curb.
“I’m good, thanks.” Daniel replied. “I think I’ll just work through lunch.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Daniel nodded as he walked back towards the hedges, “Eating before one makes me nauseous.” They all shared a look. George chuckled from his service window,
“I remember being like that when I was his age…”
December 9th: 5pm
Daniel stood with Jack outside of the McCullen house. In the distance they could hear the waves crashing against the rocky shore on the other side of the estate. The house was almost finished. Lights were strung along the hedges, the fence, and the house. The front yard was covered in blow up penguins and a large Santa Claus frozen in a joyous chuckle. Snow was beginning to fall and dust the yard.
“Ya did good, kid.” Jack said with a proud smile. “I’ll make sure to let Chuck know.”
“Thanks. So we’re pretty much done, right?”
“Yep. Last things last.” Jack pointed to the center of the yard. The statue. Daniel shuddered.
“The last day is just for that thing?”
“You bet.”
“It’s so creepy.”
“Well, you better get used to it, kid. Tomorrow it’s your main job. We’ll be making sure the McCullen estate’s ancient electrical system can handle everything running at once without starting a fire.” He raised a thumbs up, and a curtain shifted in a front window. All the lights went out. “While we do that, you finish decorating that thing. Should be done by noon.”
“Seriously? Just me?”
“Like I said, get used to it. You’re the intern after all.” Jack nudged Daniel and started walking to his truck, “You need a ride, Danny?”
“I don’t mind the walk. My house is only a few blocks from here.”
“Fresh air’s good for you anyways!” Jack called out as his truck turned over. Jack waved to Daniel as he pulled off the curb and down the street.
Daniel turned and looked back at the statue. Why would someone commission that to be in their front yard? He understood now why his parents never let him come down this street as a kid. Daniel stood there trying to get his mind wrapped around how to decorate it. The longer he stared, the more he began to notice the head.
It had turned.
It definitely turned. It was facing straight before, wasn’t it? It had to be. Now it was staring directly at him. Just slightly to the right of center. Daniel blinked, rubbed his eyes with his cold reddened hands and stared again. It was staring right at him, he was sure of it. Daniel took in every detail. The way the cheeks looked hollowed out, the way the smile stretched just a little too far. It didn’t have eyelids at all. The hair was frozen in a voluminous curl. From the neck down the statue looked like a perfect Olympian athlete… just without clothes on. The arms were outstretched like a runner crossing the finish line or what Daniel imagined someone standing on the edge of a cliff taking in the spray of the sea might look like.
Daniel shook his head of the thoughts that roiled around his mind and turned away. They were right, he was just seeing things. He jammed his hands in his pocket and started his walk home.
December 10th: 2am
Daniel couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, thinking about how he needed to get up early but never falling asleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about that statue. That face. It haunted the corners of his memory. Of his mind. The long stretched out smile, the hollowed, sunken cheeks. Those dead eyes. He couldn’t shake the memory. He couldn’t shake any of it. It just wasn’t right. Who would get a statue like that? What’s the point?
Did the McCullen’s just want to upset people? Was that the point? The thoughts wouldn’t stop coming. He couldn’t stop seeing it in his mind’s eye. Finally, Daniel gave up on sleeping. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well play on his phone.
When Daniel opened his eyes, he saw the face staring back at him from the darkness. His skin ran cold and he felt stunned into silence. He stared from his childhood bed at the face on the ceiling. Daniel slowly reached to his nightstand and clicked on the lamp.
Nothing.
He let out a chuckle, “I’m seeing things… great.” He rolled over and unplugged his phone from the charger. Before the screen came to life, the darkness reflected the eyelid-less face staring at him, unblinking, unmoving. Daniel yelped and dropped his phone. It clattered to the hardwood floor of his room. His heart stopped. He heard a stir from his younger brother’s room next to his.
Then, silence.
Daniel gathered himself up, reached down and grabbed his phone off the floor. This stupid statue was making him lose his mind. Daniel grumbled to himself and started swiping his way through TikTok. Soon enough, Daniel fell asleep. His phone rested upon his chest replaying a conspiracy video over and over and over.
December 10th: 9am
Jack pulled up to the McCullen house. Daniel stood outside, his eyes were darkened and his hair was a mess.
“Morning, Danny. You doing alright?”
“Yeah. Just tired.”
“Wanna go grab the coffee?” Daniel shrugged and began walking down the block.
“That doesn’t look good.” Jack mumbled to himself. He leaned back against the truck and waited for Darla and Brett to show up. Once they got there, they’d head inside. Maybe if they were lucky, old Francis would have cookies for them like last year. Maybe they’d save some for Daniel… if he did a good job on the statue.
December 10th: 11am
Daniel had delayed for as long as he could. He stood in front of the statue, mentally preparing himself to begin decorating. It towered several feet above him, his head at waist level. Now that he was closer, it looked like the muscular figure was made of bronze. Its eyes stared down at him in anticipation. Garland hung over his forearm and a step ladder sat next to him in the snow-kissed grass. Daniel shook his head, trying to shake himself free of the discomfort. From inside the house he heard the chuckling of the professionals of Penter Painters. They had that rapport he knew handymen often had. As long as you could keep up with the technical jargon, they were great company. He’d rather be in there with them.
He took another deep breath and stepped onto the stepladder. At its peak, Daniel was at neck level with the statue. High enough to do what he had planned for it.
He began wrapping the statue’s outstretched arms in garland, averting his eyes from its face. Before long he was out of garland. Daniel stepped down off the ladder and trekked back to Jack’s truck to get more Christmas supplies.
Daniel came back with reindeer antlers, a wreath, a tree skirt, and lights. The statue was still looking down at Daniel. It made his blood run cold. Daniel kept his eyes down as he climbed back up the step ladder and draped the wreath around the neck of the statue. He placed the reindeer antlers on its head. It almost looked like the warped face smiled with approval. Daniel took a step down, and began wrapping the tree skirt around the statue’s waist. It seemed like the right thing to do and he thought he may be commended for his creativity along the way.
Just as the velcro snapped into place, he heard a grumble coming from the statue. He looked up into its malformed face. It met his gaze, drawing him in to share a moment with it. It wasn’t smiling any longer.
The smile had faded into the metallic aether of its blank features. It wasn’t grumbling. No, that sound was -
Daniel jumped as the feeling of cold metal cupped his arm. He pulled away and stumbled back into the snowy grass. His dad’s loose fitting boots kicked off in the panic. The cold of the snow seeped into his socks. The statue’s arms were now curled inwards, as though it was trying to grab hold of its victim. Daniel stumbled backwards, pushing further and further away from the estate. He slammed into the fence and jumped up in terror. He turned and sprinted through the archway opening and down the street.
December 10th: Lunch
“Hey, anyone see Daniel?” Jack asked as he passed his money to George. Darla and Brett both shrugged.
“Must’ve gone out to lunch or something.” Brett replied. He took a big bite of a black bean burger, “And you said there’s no meat in this at all?” George chuckled and nodded. “Man, my daughter’s gonna love this. She’s trying to be one of those vegetarians… or is it vegans?” The others shrugged. “Whichever doesn’t eat cheese.” Jack moved the conversation back to Daniel,
“He did good work on the statue. I was thinking of telling Chuck to throw the kid a couple extra bucks for it.”
“It sure is something.” Darla agreed. George cut in,
“You know, on my way here earlier, I saw a kid… looked a lot like Danny Trout. Was running for his life. No shoes on, stumbling through the snow and all… that wouldn’t make sense though, huh?”
“If it was him…” Jack trailed off looking at the statue. He rubbed his chin and realized something, “Now how in the hell did he get those boots on the feet? They’re connected to the base…” Jack started looking more closely, “And I like the blinking red nose, but we didn’t bring anything like that…”
“Same with the ‘happy holidays’ sign… we don’t have anything like that… at least not one that wraps around and does all that fancy blinking.” Jack shrugged, considering the matter settled,
“I’ll have to ask his mom. Pretty clever ingenuity.” Jack chuckled. “Well, wherever he is, he put in good work.”
December 10th 6pm
As darkness fell across Arnold’s Landing, the countless buildings decorated by Penter painters came to life. Standing in the well-lit McCullen estate yard, surrounded by blow ups of north pole friends was the statue of a man. His face smiled just a little too wide. His eyes had no lids to close, his hair curled like the statue of David. He was a man of bronze, dressed in winter boots that fit him perfectly. His legs were wrapped in lights and garland. Around his waist was a bright red tree skirt with squiggling green lines criss-crossing it. His arms were outstretched, a mistletoe in one, and a wreath in the other. His nose blinked like Rudolph's nose cutting through the evening fog. At his feet, a simple message blinked around his platform.
Happy Holidays
Great story!