Page 5 of Moved
As I turned the corner, Dad closed the kitchen door. I heard Racer’s footsteps on the stairs. Dad stood in a kitchen filled with boxes, bed frame, futon frame, and two mattresses.
“How did you get this all up here so fast?”
“Racer’s a machine. Don’t even think he’s winded. Me, on the other hand…I need some dry clothes and a chair.”
He grabbed his duffle bag and headed for the bathroom.
“Do you want me to find the shower curtain?” I eyed the pile of boxes, trying to guess in which one it might be hiding.
“No. There’ll be time for that tomorrow.”
Although driving wasn’t physically strenuous, it was exhausting. After fourteen hours, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. One problem. My bed lay in pieces on my kitchen floor.
The bathroom door closed, and I set to work. I grabbed the futon frame and pulled it into the living room. The carpet needed vacuuming, but I didn’t want to upset my new downstairs neighbor further by making that much noise so late. I unfolded the frame and tossed the futon on it. It’d been my sofa during my brief college stay. Next, I tugged the twin mattress into my bedroom. It’d be chillier sleeping with a mattress on the floor, but better than nothing at all. I sneezed twice when I let the mattress fall to the carpet.
Dad stepped out of the bathroom to see what I was doing. He saw the bare mattress then went to the kitchen and started to open boxes. We worked together to find the bedding then made our beds.
Within an hour, I lay comfortably on my mattress, weighted down by layers of blankets. Dad’s snores drifted into my room. I smiled and dozed off.
Chuck watched me from across the room. At first, it’d been flattering. However, after a failed date, I found it creepy and annoying. As soon as I stood, he stood; but I wasn’t surprised. Class was over. It did surprise me though that he headed toward me and not the exit.
“Hey, Gillian. I wanted to apologize for last night. I was going on three hours of sleep and it made me loopy. I know I should have canceled but I was worried you would be busy the next time I asked.” He looked sincere as he handed me a card. “Let me know if you’d like to grab a coffee some time. I’ll behave.”
He walked away, leaving me holding a card in an empty classroom. I looked at the harmless pink envelope. Opening it, I cut my finger. Blood spotted the paper. I ignored it and pulled out the card. It read simply “I will kill you.”
****
I sat up, blinking at the strange room. Bright sunlight streamed in from both windows. If only Chuck’s intentions were as obvious as the dream. Instead, I was here until Dad and his boys cornered Chuck.
Flopping back onto my mattress, I smiled at the ceiling. My dad was overprotective but I loved him for it. I understood him. After my mom died, he poured his energy into raising me. I wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything else.
Listening, I noticed the silence. No snoring. I looked at the closed door. It’d been open when I went to bed. That meant he was already up and moving around.
I got up and went to find him, not bothering to make my bed. The boxes from the kitchen were neatly stacked in the living room. The cheap wooden table and two battered chairs he’d found for me were already assembled and neatly placed against the stairway wall in the kitchen. He’d dug out my toaster and stood over it, watching a bagel brown.
“Morning,” I said as I pulled out a chair. He moved to the coffee pot, poured a half a cup, and added water. He made tar, not coffee. I accepted the watered down version and sipped it. “What do you have planned today?”
“Racer said he’d help me find you a car.”
Not being able to bring my own car had led to a long negotiation. Chuck knew my car, and Dad wasn’t willing to take any risks. Yet, I didn’t want to be stuck somewhere with no means of getting around. Dad had promised to get me a car once we were here but only if I promised not to go far with it. My “sure, sure” answer had him frowning but he hadn’t said anything further.
“Really?When?”
“Today,” he smiled at me mischievously.
“Brat. You know what I mean. When did he say he’d help you?”
“This morning. I went out to check on the truck. He must’ve covered it last night so it didn’t get any worse. Passenger side’s still soaked, though. I opened the doors to dry it out.” The toaster popped, and he grabbed his bagel to dip into his cup-o’-sludge.
“You know, that never stops being gross.”
He grinned at me and took a bite with delight. After he swallowed, he motioned to the boxes. “While I’m out, take stock of what you need and call me. I can pick it up for you right away.”
“I have a vacuum and mop. That’s all I’ll need for the first few hours. But I’ll let you know if I come across anything else.”
Finishing my coffee, I set the cup in the sink and went to get dressed in my Saturday clothes. Grungy clothes meant for deep cleaning. By the time I had my cleaning supplies gathered, Dad was dressed and out the door. Just like at home.
I shook my head and moved down the hall to the bathroom. Nothing was grimy, just generally dirty. I scrubbed, mopped, and sanitized until every surface sparkled. When I was done, I moved the bathroom supplies in. My monkey shower curtain matched the tan tiling. The dark brown bathmat and bronze soap dish with matching toothbrush holder managed to tone down the overly fun shower curtain.
