Meant for the watchful eyes of…

“Handle goes up and then you jiggle it.  She doesn’t like people to know that she keeps it unlocked,” Tasha whispered over her shoulder to her companion, June.

“Now, we knock and pretend like she’s letting us in,” Tasha finished instructing.

June nodded in compliance as Tasha opened the door.  The two quietly let themselves inside of the home, while keeping up the required ruse meant for the watchful eyes of neighbors and bums.

Glancing back, June only saw a neighbor angrily raking leaves.  Likely, he already knew that Mrs. Landis never locked her door and had nothing worth stealing, aside from incontinence products and gospel recordings.

The wind blew and the top of his pile scattered, sending reds and oranges floating across the yard.  He continued to rake, furiously dragging his tool across the uncooperative leaves, unconcerned about the goings-on in Mrs. Landis’ home.

“Hello?  Mrs. Landis?” Tasha called out, after June stepped in and pulled the door tightly shut behind her.

The women blindly bumped their way through the front room to the voice coming from a dimly lit area with a hospital bed in the middle. “I’m in here, girls,” the voice croaked.

“Have a seat,” she offered, peeking out from underneath of a pile of blankets.  The outline of a lump, Mrs. Landis, could be barely made out on the bed, the room was so dark.   The women strained their eyes as they looked around and waited for their rods and cones to adjust.

Tasha moved quickly ahead, feeling her way to the only hard-back chair, leaving her companion to the cushioned office chair.  Rule one in training: never sit on a cushioned chair in a questionable home.  It could be filled with bugs, spills, needles, or pills.  However, it was the only other viable option in the room, other than sitting on the edge of the invalid’s bed.  Rule two in training: never sit on the side of a dirty, invalid’s bed, especially if you wouldn’t sit on their cushioned chair.

“Sit, sit, sit, you’re making me nervous,” the invalid commanded.

“Sure,” June weakly said, knowing it was a bad idea and sat, feeling immediate regret at her decision.

The seat of the chair was wet and moisture began to seep through her pants onto the skin of her legs.

Shooting back up, the invalid laughed, “Oh I guess it still wet from earlier.”

“You want some light?” she asked, without offering any further explanation at the chair situation.  She then pressed a button, bringing the room to life with a harsh, yellow light.

The floors were hard wood but cracked and dry.  There were card board boxes lined against the crumbling and cracked wall.  A massive entertainment center with speakers and a huge flat screen television was set directly in front of the hospital bed.  There were dingy orange curtains that were pulled shut with black out curtains behind them that successfully shut out all natural light.  Propped against a mirror that was set on top of a dresser was a faded photo of a woman with full lips and a beehive hairdo.

“That’s better, huh,” she declared, still mostly buried underneath of blankets and sheets.

Scooting her chair closer, Tasha gently said, “Mrs. Landis, we just wanted to come and see you to make sure everything was ok.”

“Well,” the old woman started.

She began wiggling and scooting, slowly emerging from her covers like an old butterfly from her musty cocoon.

“Now you see me,” she declared with a wide smile, exposing two golden front teeth.  Her hair was fuzzy and pulled back into two pigtail braids that stuck out from her head like black snakes.  “And now you can go.”


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Gede Prama
    Nov 08, 2013 @ 03:00:29

    visit to my friend and thank you


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