Martin’s quiet tenant, Mr. Clark, seemed ideal… until neighbors reported hearing and seeing several kids at the house he was renting. Now Martin must uncover the truth behind Mr. Clark’s mysterious brood and decide where his loyalties truly lie.
Martin stood on the porch of his nice little rental property, keys in hand, waiting for his new tenant to arrive. He checked his watch again and tapped his foot impatiently.
Just as he was about to call it quits, a beaten-up station wagon pulled into the driveway. A tall, thin man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out. His clothes were slightly rumpled but clean.
“Mr. Clark?” Martin called out, extending his hand as the man approached.
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“That’s me,” Mr. Clark replied with a tired smile, shaking Martin’s hand firmly. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare.”
Martin nodded, turning to unlock the front door. “No worries. Let’s get you settled in.”
As they walked through the house, Martin pointed out various features and explained the rules. Mr. Clark listened attentively, asked only a few questions, and nodded along.
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“Well, that about covers it,” Martin said as they finished the tour in the kitchen. “Any more questions or concerns?”
“No, I think I’ve got it. Thanks for everything, Mr. Greene. I promise I’ll take good care of the place.”
“I’m sure you will. Welcome to the neighborhood, Mr. Clark,” Martin smiled and handed over the keys.
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It was a good day. Mr. Clark seemed quiet and responsible; just the kind of person Martin wanted for his rental property.
But he was about to learn that appearances could be deceiving.
Over the next few weeks, life continued as usual. Martin busied himself with his other properties and rarely thought about Mr. Clark.
That changed one Saturday morning when he ran into his neighbor, Mrs. Patel, at the local farmer’s market.
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“Martin!” she called out, waving him over to her stall of homemade jams. “How are you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
Martin approached, curious. “What’s on your mind, Priya?”
Mrs. Patel sighed, steeling herself. “It’s about that new tenant of yours on my street. Have you been by there recently?”
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“No, I haven’t. Why? Is there a problem?” Martin asked, frowning.
“Well,” Mrs. Patel hesitated, “I’m not one to gossip, but there’s been a lot of… activity over there. My grandson swears he’s seen at least a dozen different children coming and going. And the noise! It’s like a playground some days.”
“That can’t be right,” Martin’s frown deepened. “Mr. Clark lives alone. That rental only has one bedroom. Are you sure it’s not just the neighborhood kids playing around or nearby?”
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“No, these aren’t our local children,” Mrs. Patel said, shaking her head firmly. “And they seem to be living there. I’m worried, Martin. What if something’s not right?”
Martin thanked Mrs. Patel for the information and assured her he would check things out soon. He finished his shopping quickly and rushed to his car to drive by the rental.
As he approached the street, he could hear the sound of children’s laughter even before he turned the corner. When the house came into view, Martin’s jaw dropped.
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He had to blink twice because the front yard was full of colors and activity. Children of various ages were playing, running, and shouting.
Some were on the porch, and others in the driveway. Martin counted at least ten before losing track.
He pulled over and got out mechanically, still baffled by all the kids. This couldn’t be right. The lease clearly stated single occupancy. What on earth was going on?
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Just then, Mr. Clark emerged from the house, carrying a tray of sandwiches. The children swarmed around him like pigeons to corn on the ground.
His lying tenant patiently handed out food, making sure everyone got their share. Somehow, no one had seen Martin yet.
Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the house and coughed loudly. At last, Mr. Clark looked up, and his mouth opened.
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For a second, Martin thought he detected… fear.
“Mr. Greene,” the tenant said. “I… I can explain.”
Martin crossed his arms and tried to keep his voice level. “I certainly hope you can, Mr. Clark. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re in clear violation of your lease agreement.”
Mr. Clark nodded as his shoulders slumped. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said and looked down at his tray.
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The kids had finished taking the last of the food, so Martin’s tenant turned his chagrined face to his landlord. “Can we talk inside? Please?”
Martin followed him into the house, noting the toys scattered across the living room floor and the artwork taped to the walls.
In the kitchen, dirty dishes filled the sink, and a large calendar on the fridge was covered in colorful notations.
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Mr. Clark gestured for Martin to sit at the kitchen table. “I know this looks bad,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “But I swear, I never meant to deceive you. It’s just… these kids needed help, and I couldn’t turn them away.”
Martin leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “What do you mean? Where did all these children come from?”
“They’re from three different families,” Mr. Clark sighed. “Friends of mine who’ve fallen on hard times, almost at the same time. One family lost their home in a fire, another to foreclosure, and the third… well, the parents are in rehab. The kids had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t let them end up in the system, split up and alone.”
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Martin sat back, stunned. “So you took them all in? Just like that? In this small place?”
Mr. Clark nodded. “I know it’s not ideal. I know I should have told you. But I was afraid you’d say no, and then what would happen to these kids?”
Martin looked out the window, watching the children play. He thought about the risks, the legal implications, and the potential damage to his property.
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But he also thought about those kids and what might have happened to them if Mr. Clark hadn’t stepped in.
“How many are there?” he asked finally.
“Seventeen,” Mr. Clark admitted. “I know it’s a lot, but—”
“Seventeen?” Martin interrupted, almost choking at the number. “Mr. Clark, this is… this is insane. It’s illegal. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble we could both be in? This house is too small. How do they all fit in?”
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“I understand, sir. But what was I supposed to do? Let them be separated? Put in foster care? I couldn’t do that to them. We make do with some cots and mats.”
Martin stood up and paced the kitchen, frustrated.
On one hand, Mr. Clark had blatantly violated the terms of his lease. On the other hand, what he was doing for these children was nothing short of heroic.
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“We need to make this right,” Martin said finally. “Legally, I mean. We can’t just have seventeen kids living here when there’s so little space. It’s not safe for them, and it’s not fair to you.”
Mr. Clark looked up with wide eyes. “You’re not going to evict us?”
“No, I’m not,” Martin shook his head. “But we need to get child protective services involved. We need to make sure everything is above board. These kids deserve a safe, stable environment.”
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“What do you have in mind?”
Martin scratched his chin thoughtfully before speaking. “Let’s start with…“
Over the next few weeks, Martin worked with Mr. Clark to regularize the situation. They contacted child protective services and filled out mountains of paperwork.
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It wasn’t easy, but once the legalities were in order, Martin shared his original epiphany.
“John,” he said, using his tenant’s first name now that they were closer. “I think I have a solution for the last problem we’ve got. I own a bigger property on the other side of town. It has six bedrooms and a huge backyard. What if you and the kids moved there? Same rent as here.”
Mr. Clark’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Martin, that’s… incredibly generous. But can you afford to do that?”
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Martin nodded, smiling. “I can. And more importantly, I want to. These kids deserve a proper home, and you’re giving them that. The least I can do is provide the space.”
After that conversation, the move happened quickly.
The new house was a sprawling Victorian property on a quiet street ten minutes away from the smaller rental. It was also much better for the large, unconventional family.
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Martin had been waiting to find a tenant with a large family who could afford the rent for that property, but it had proven impossible. No one could afford the market-value rent.
He hadn’t felt right about lowering the price, even though the house was fully paid for, until now.
When the neighborhood learned about Mr. Clark and the kids, they rallied around them. Donations of clothes, toys, and school supplies poured in.
Volunteers offered to help with tutoring and childcare, if needed.
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Even Martin found himself spending more and more time at the house, getting to know the kids and helping where he could.
By autumn, the house had transformed. Bunk beds filled the bedrooms, a large dining table dominated the kitchen, and the backyard boasted a new play set.
One crisp November evening, Martin sat on the porch with Mr. Clark, watching the children play in the spacious yard.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Martin chuckled, “but I’m glad you broke your original lease.”
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His tenant smiled. “I’m glad you gave us a chance. These kids… they’ve been through so much. But look at them now. His parents can actually visit and work on their stuff without worries.”
“They’re thriving,” Martin nodded and felt his chest soaring.
Click here to read another story: Kyle and Toby’s dare to explore their town’s abandoned school takes a chilling turn when they stumble upon Principal Anderson’s sinister secret. As footsteps echo behind them, the boys must outrun danger and expose the truth… or risk becoming victims themselves.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.