House-Sitter

Rachel, aka Becca Jacobs, woke up with a start. The room had grown dark, evening had descended upon the house. The TV was droning on in the background of her mind, the lights from a news show flickered on the walls of the dark room, on Rachel's face giving her an allure of pretense. She reached for the track flip phone she traveled one, this one was fairly new, she had gotten it at the last city when she realized it was time for the change. She changed her phone number with an increasing frequency so as to not be traced so easily. She glanced at the large digits and read the time 4:54 pm.

It took a moment for her to reorient herself, to remind herself of her surroundings, how she had gotten to where she was. She had passed out after finding a bottle of red wine in the pantry unopened and together with cheese and crackers, she had drank down the whole thing whilst channel surfing until finding a cheesy movie. The cheesy movie had now been transformed into Anderson Cooper relaying to her the world's events. She shook herself remembering the dream she had had, the voice of Anderson had drifted into her unconscious in his broadcast voice detailing her life up to that point.

“Rachel Anne Moore, 32, originally from Connecticut, has been on the run from her past for 12 years now, has had several aliases and existences in her travels,” came the flashback of Anderson's dream-like presence. She shook it out of her consciousness, glanced over at the red wine bottle, with only a few swallows left. What had woken her up?

Oh yes, she remembered hearing footsteps. At first she had thought they were part of her unconscious flickering but the footsteps had continued and now she thought she heard a key in the front door. Yes, the door knob began to turn, she caught her breath, was this it? Had she finally been caught or was she about to? Her mind raced as the door clicked open, the footsteps entered the house, soft small footsteps, and she sucked in her breath, holding it trying to steady her racing heartbeat.

Then, all at once, the footsteps entered the room and a young boy came into view. He squinted through the semi-darkness. She flipped off the TV just as he reached for a switch. The light that filled the room was now bright and revealing. The blanket that covered her bare legs was security, she pulled the silk bathrobe closer about her and suddenly felt self conscious that she was even wearing it. But, wearing the owner's clothing was the least of her concerns. However, chances were this young boy wouldn't recognize the lingerie of the women of the house.

“Um, hi,” the boy finally said after he had recovered from the shock of finding her.

“Hey,” she replied, trying to sound cool, collected, as if she belonged there yet her voice cracked.

“You staying at the Jones' or something?” the boy wanted to know. It was important for her to realize that he wasn't threatened or showed any real concern, this seemed somehow reasonable to him. A strange tipsy girl with wild red hair wearing nothing but a silk bathrobe and a blanket sitting in his neighbor's living room was for reasons unknown to her seemingly not an oddity to him.

“Um, yeah,” she finally recovered her presence of mind. “I'm the, uh, house-sitter.”

“Oh,” he responded and then took a moment to register that. “But, they told me to water the plants?”

“Yeah?” was all she could respond.

“Yeah, and I have Milo,” he was explaining. Milo, she thought, must be the dog.

“Well, um,” she began. “It was a last minute hiring, I guess they were really worried about security, you never know who will break in, um, to your house, right?”

“I guess so,” the boy said sadly. “Should I bring Milo back?”

Rachel's heart melted with sympathy. She shook her head encouragingly.

“Sorry they didn't tell you, guess they were too busy getting ready for the trip or whatever,” she said warmly. “You keep Milo and look after him, but I'll, um, water the plants. And, uh, I'll give you some of the cash they left me, okay?”

The boy brightened with a big smile. “That's awesome, thanks,” he replied. “Hey, what's your name?” he added questioningly.

“Go...Ra..Becca,” she stumbled out.

“Wait, what?” the boy was confused.

“Sorry, I just woke up,” she explained poorly. “I'm Becca. You?”

“Jay,” the boy answered her. “Nice to meet you, Becca.”

“You too, kid.”

“So, I, uh, should be getting home,” Jay began. He waited for her to respond and it slowly dawned on Rachel's worn out yet racing mind that he was waiting for the cash.

“Oh yeah, um, hold on,” She said quickly, standing and hurriedly, awkwardly wrapping the blanket around her legs. She walked like a Japanese women in a kimono out of the room, modestly.

The cash was in her purse on the kitchen counter where she'd discarded it earlier that day upon her arrival. She opened her wallet and flipped through the 500 dollars, finally resolutely pulling out 50 dollars for Jay. That should keep him satisfied, right?

She turned to return to the TV room to find Jay in the entry way. She gasped.

“You okay?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she responded. “You just surprised me.”

“Oh, sorry,” he said. She handed him the money and he counted the two twenties and a ten and grinned up at her. “Wow, 50, that's more than I have ever gotten.”

She smiled at him. “Don't spend it all in one place.”

“I won't,” he said shaking his head almost violently. “I'm saving up for an xbox.”

“Oh good,” was all she could say.

“Uh, so, I'll see you around, okay?” he said at last. She nodded. “Should I leave the key or...”

“Um, yeah, that'd be great,” she responded.

He pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and placed it on the counter next to her.

“Um, bye,” he said and then turned walking back towards the front door.

“Lock it behind you, would you?” she called after him.

“Yeah, will do,” he said. She heard the door lock, then shut behind him, leaving her alone with herself and her thoughts at last.

  She leaned back against the counter, shut her eyes hard, rubbed her temples, and exhaled. What did this mean? She had never once been found at any of the other places. Should she leave? But she had just gotten here, she needed rest after such a long trip, she didn't really want to run more than she had. Rest, she thought, sleep. Things would be clearer in the morning. Slowly she dragged herself up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she stared out at the starry night sky, the waves pounding on the shore, and drifted into a fitful yet long sleep.   

She Will Be Loved