One day a friend of mine called and asked if I would take him to a little village called Poltimore in Quebec, because he wanted to rent a house that was advertised available to rent. I picked Him up and took him there. After seeing the house he told the landlord that he wanted it. He signed a lease and paid him his first month's rent.
The old man that owned that house had built it himself and raised his family in it. After his wife died, according to his neighbors, this old man turned really mean. He didn't even want his son or anyone else to go in the bedroom that he and his wife had shared when she was alive. Finally when he died, his son inherited the house.
His son had moved in with his family but could not stay, so he moved out and rented out the house instead. He soon found out that no one could stay there. But he was honest and he told my friend if he didn't feel comfortable for some reason or other he wouldn't hold him to his lease.
One week after my friend moved in, he got a beating with a strap that he had taken off his pants with the intention of putting on different pants the next day. He had put his belt on the little night table. Except he was alone in the place. He called me in the middle of the night to go and pick him up and take him to his wife’s place. I went and picked him up and while taking him to his wife’s place, he told me what happened and I didn't believe him and told him as much.
When we arrived at his wife’s place, he invited me in then he took his shirt off and showed me. I could see where he had been hit. He got some good ones. The next day he asked me to take him to see the landlord. After he told the landlord what happened, the landlord asked what room did he sleep in and he said the small one. That small bedroom is where the old man did not want any one in there except himself.
When I had a car I went up there a few times to see if anyone lived in that house but it was always vacant. My friend never even went back to get his furniture or clothes.