by Quell T Fox
There it is again.
That smell.
What is that smell? Maybe it’s a ghost. I’ve read that they can leave behind scents sometimes. Hopefully, if it is a ghost, it’s a nice one. I would like to enjoy some of this house before my brain misfires and tells me it’s time to go. There are not many things that I am afraid of. I love adventure, thrill and I especially love horror movies. But I am all set with ghosts and spirits and all that paranormal stuff. Because that stuff, that stuff is real. There is no way I’m messing around with otherworldly type stuff. The smell is gone as soon as I realized it was here. I try not to dwell on it, it’s unimportant.
There are a few boxes piled in the corner labelled Asha’s clothes next to a few bags that are also filled with clothes, probably mine. It seems Andrew went through his stuff already and started to sort it out. I dig through my stuff and pull out a black lacey thong, matching black bra, black leggings and a long sleeve purple sweater. Gotta throw a splash of color in there somewhere. I quickly get dressed and towel dry my hair a bit more.
I figure I should get started on unpacking, so I do just that. I’ve come up with an order of operations. The kitchen is always first and the bedroom last. For no reason other than that’s just how I like to do things. After all, I’ve done it enough times. There were a few times that I left so quickly I didn’t get a chance to unpack everything. One time, I didn’t even bother unpacking at all because as soon as I moved all my things in, it instantly felt wrong. I had to wait it out until I saved enough money to move.
We don’t have near enough stuff to fill this house. I’ve made it a practice to not accumulate a lot of items. It turns out to be a waste of money because when I move, things always get left behind, whether unintentionally or not. I’d rather save my money for my future. Moving isn’t cheap. It’s insane how much money is required to move into some places.
It doesn’t take me long to put all the kitchen stuff away. Neither of us likes to cook. I think we’ve cooked a handful of times since we’ve been together. We don’t have a lot of kitchenware, other than the basic stuff. We use the microwave a lot and of course the coffee pot. What is life without coffee? Most of the time we go out to eat or order delivery. The only food we keep in the house is stuff like mac n’ cheese, cereal and chicken nuggets. Juvenile food, I know. I swear I really enjoy food; the problem is cooking it. My lazy nature interferes with life.
Next, I move onto the bathroom. Yesterday, I counted four bathrooms, but I missed the one in the basement. There are two upstairs, a half bath plus our full bathroom off the master bedroom. Then another two on the main floor, a full and then one half that’s connected to the bedroom to the right of the house. And of course, the one in the basement that doesn’t even look like it works. I’m not sure if we’ll ever use it, so I close the door and ignore it.
I put most of the stuff away in the master bath upstairs since I doubt we will have anyone over any time soon that will need to use the one downstairs. I stock them all with toilet paper, hand soap and hand towels just in case. There are two bedrooms off to the left of the house, opposite the garage, behind the kitchen, that would be just perfect for the shop. I assume that’s the area Andrew was talking about.
I started my own business while I was in middle school. I like to think that’s how the story goes, it’s not entirely false. Most kids were selling lemonade, I was selling soap. It didn’t get anywhere until after I graduated. I’m glad it took off because it’s hard to find a job now a days, especially for someone like me. Making soap is a good business to be in. It’s surprisingly easy to do and everyone wants to buy it. It’s like no one wants to buy mass produced products anymore, which I am thankful for. I sell most of my products online, I’ve never had a physical shop before. I’m not sure how it’s going to work out. Especially in a town like this.
It’s late afternoon when Andrew returns. Thankfully, he brought lunch back with him. I am starving. I didn’t eat breakfast. Unless you count the two cups of coffee that I had earlier and the third that I’m working on now. He brought my favorite, pizza. We sit down at the tiny apartment sized table that looks funny in this full-sized dining room, it’s centered in front of the massive picture window, making it look even tinier. The window really takes up almost the entire wall. It gives a beautiful view of the front the yard. The lawn could use some care, but it’s a nice scene none the less. Openness and nature. A nice change from being in the city surrounded by tall buildings and loud noises.
Andrew is telling me about all the things he had to grab for the house. A few things to fix some of the pipes in the bathrooms and some equipment for our furniture that needed replacing. He’s quite the handy man. It’s what he does for work, after all. He owns a construction-slash-plumbing-slash-electrical company. He had some guys back in Cali that he would work with. I’m not sure what his plans are now that we are here. He doesn’t work often, though he doesn’t really have to. He comes from money. His parents died shortly after graduation and left him a lot of it. I don’t know exactly how much it was. It’s never mattered to me. Money doesn’t matter to me. I have plenty of my own that I don’t even need, never mind wanting someone else’s.
Even though he doesn’t have to work, he’s always enjoyed doing it. Makes him feel important. I doubt he will be picking up any outside jobs any time soon, with all the stuff he plans to do around here. If someone asks, he won’t say no, that I know for sure. He’s too nice.
Andrew throws the trash away and washes the dishes when we are done eating. He returns carrying a pen and a pad. He sits across from me with his back to the window. The same spot he was in only a few moments ago.
“So, tell me what you’re thinking of doing for the shop, babe.” Pen in hand, ready to write down every word that comes out of my mouth to ensure that it gets done the precise way that I am picturing it to be in my head. He has the kindest eyes I have ever seen. Crystal blue, like the waters of some tropical island. They remind me of a happy place. He loves doing things for me. He loves making me happy. He deserves someone that will appreciate these things. I’m a right asshole for letting him build this shop for me, but I can’t help it. I am excited about it, and maybe a part of me is hoping this will make me want to stay.
We never argue. Most people want that in a relationship, to agree on everything. Plenty of people argue too much. People think that constantly getting along makes things easier, it doesn’t. To me, it makes the relationship stale. Not that I want to fight, yell and scream, but give me some contention. Give me some controversy, a debate, keep me interested. Do something.
I explain to him that all I need is the wall knocked down between the rooms and then a door built to the outside, so people won’t be coming and going through the house. He should probably add locks to the doors leading to the hallway as well. He likes my idea but was expecting there to be more work involved. He seems disappointed. He had some of his own ideas that are just way too much work. I feel better knowing that mine is simpler.
“I’ll head back to the store tomorrow and pick up the things that I’ll need, and I can get started right away. You can start setting up your work things in the basement.”
He starts to draw up a blueprint, and he makes a list of items he’ll have to buy. There is a second kitchen in the basement that I plan on using to store all my stuff. It’s the perfect amount of space.
I stand up from my seat and walk over to him, he looks up at me with question in his eyes. I lean down and give him a kiss on the cheek, and I whisper my thanks into his ear.
“Anything for you, Asha.” He whispers back, and I know that he means it.
Since I’m finished unpacking everything downstairs, I start unpacking all the clothes. There is so much room here that I don’t know where to put anything. There are two closets in this room, not exactly walk-in closets but bigger than what I’m used to. I give myself the closet closest to the bathroom and Andrew gets the one across from it. I hang up all my shirts and dresse
s in the closet. I put everything else away in the dresser. I throw all my shoes on the floor in the closet. I’ve accumulated a lot of clothes over the past year, my wardrobe never used to be this extensive. Still made up of mostly black, though. That’ll never change.
The bedroom is spacious, much like the rest of the house. The bed is across from the door, centered between two large picture windows, neither nearly as large as the one in the dining room. The walls are painted a champagne color, neutral like the rest of the house. I’m definitely going to have to get some curtains for this place. Not that I’m worried about anyone looking in. I don’t see another house, even from up here, but you never know. Maybe there are some creepy people hanging around here. Especially, with no one having lived here for a while.
Abraham went into a nursing home about six months ago. No one has lived here since. One of Andrew’s uncles that doesn’t live too far from here would check on the place every so often, to make sure everything was still in working condition. Abe seemed to think that he’d be leaving the nursing home and coming back to the house. He loves this house. It reminds him of his wife. His one and only true love.
And I have an idea…
I’m going to talk to Andrew about Abe coming to live with us. He loves this house and I’m sure it’ll make him happy. There is more than enough room. We’re both here often enough as well, since neither of us has a real job. If we could get a nurse to come in a few hours a day it would be even better. Plus, it’ll make me feel better about leaving. Andrew won’t be alone. Yes, selfish of me, but I am who I am, and I won’t change.
CHAPTER 5
It’s Monday morning. Sunday was a lazy day, for me anyway. I spent it lounging around, watching TV and browsing the internet. Andrew went to the store to get everything he needed to start the remodeling. I brought up the idea of Abe coming to live with us over dinner. He was genuinely grateful that I would offer to do something like that for him. If only he knew that I was really doing it for myself. Anyway, he said he would speak to his grandfather to see if that’s something he would like to do. I’m sure he is going to jump at the chance. If Abe agrees, he’ll talk to the nursing home and figure out what needs to be done. He’s hoping it will happen before the end of the month, which is less than two weeks away.
Andrew has always called to check in on his grandfather, usually every few weeks. It seems that he hasn’t been doing great in the home. He’s been presenting with early signs of dementia. It’s been a struggle for him because nothing there is familiar. Maybe coming home will make an old man happy in his last days. At least I can say that I have done something good in my life. All though, I know all too well that one day all the shit things I’ve done will come back to bite me in the ass. Karma always comes back two-fold. That’s just how it is.
I’m alone in the house right now. I’m not sure how long it will take me to get used to how quiet it is around here. Andrew went to city hall to get the permit so he can start working on the house. I figured while he’s out I may as well go out too, the silence is starting to get to me. Exploring the town a little seems like a good idea and I need to pick up some groceries. When I say groceries, I mean snacks and alcohol.
We drove here in Andrew’s jeep, but my car came along too. No way I would ever leave my baby behind. The moving truck towed it behind them. I wasn’t happy about the idea of that. I don’t trust people with my car, but Andrew assured me that it would be okay. Thankfully, my car is fine. It’s nothing special, but I love it just the same. My little Toyota Corolla has been with me since I got my license at sixteen. Dad surprised me with it when I came home from school that same day. It’s been with me through every move and I intend on it staying that way.
It doesn’t take me long to get dressed and head out. The majority of my wardrobe consists of practical clothing. The fact that most of it is black makes it easy to just grab and go. Of course, I have some fancy wear, in case I ever have fancy plans. Doesn’t happen often but I like to be prepared.
When I drive by Eva’s I get the chills. Everything has seemed okay since that day. No more episodes or even an inkling that I may pass out again. Nothing. Maybe it really was because I was hungry. I got dizzy, pulled over and decided to get some air? It’s possible.
I’m stopped at that same red light and I can’t take my eyes off the small building to the left of me. You can tell that it has been around for a while. The purple paint looks like it may have been bright once upon a time, now it’s faded and weathered. I squint a little trying to see through the windows. It’s a far distance to see anything clearly from here to there but I swear I see someone inside, just…standing there. Someone may be in there to clean up, but I don’t see a car anywhere. That is definitely the-
BEEEEEEP!
“Green means go!”
BEEEEP!
The horn startles me and I quickly step on the gas, causing my head to whack the headrest. People around here sure are friendly. I look at the guy through my rearview mirror and quickly regret it. He looks like he hasn’t showered in a week, his long greasy hair spread out across his forehead. There’s a cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he is actively hacking up a lung. My first interaction with someone from this area and this is how it goes? I can’t wait to see what else I come across.
The grocery store is in that same part of town that I got food from the other day. Seems most of the stores are in this area. It’s convenient having everything so close together. Perks of living in a small town, I suppose. Aside from the grocery store and the sub shop, there is also a bowling alley, movie theatre, a hardware store and a few other restaurants.
I turn right into the grocery store parking lot and I park towards the back of the lot. I usually choose to park far away from the door because it gives me those few extra steps per day. Unless it’s raining. I don’t exercise regularly, so I have to get in steps any way that I can.
I’m only in the store for about a half hour. It’s a family owned business, they’re locals. This one has also been around for a while. Inside, there is a large portrait of the man who started the business, on the side of that was a short biography on him and the store. I didn’t read through it all but caught that the store celebrated one hundred years of success just recently.
I push the cart towards my car and pop the trunk. After loading the groceries, I return the cart to the return station and get into the car. I head right towards the liquor store which is across the street. This grocery store doesn’t sell liquor, that is the most inconvenient thing I’ve come across so far.
I take my credit card and ID out of my wallet, so I won’t have to carry the whole thing, freeing my hands to hold more alcohol. I’ve never been one to use a purse. I shove my wallet into the glove compartment, so it isn’t visible to anyone walking by. Once inside, I grab a thirty-six pack of beer and I also grab a handle of rum. Mix it with soda and you’ll have a great night. I’m waiting in line to check out, when the man in front of me starts yelling. The young cashier is trying to explain that he can’t buy scratch tickets with a credit card, and the customer doesn’t want to hear it. The cashier finally lets the guy know that if he doesn’t calm down, then she will have to call the police. He slams his hand on the counter and walks out of the store.
“I am so sorry bout that, crazies come in here all the time.” She apologizes to me, even though she doesn’t have to. She didn’t do anything wrong.
“No worries, not your fault.” I smile and pay quickly, wanting to get back to the house and away from these angry Rhode Islanders. I head back to the car and load the alcohol into the trunk along with the other stuff. I get into the car and notice that smell again. Okay...so not a ghost, or anything to do with the house. Now it’s following me. Maybe I should make an appointment with a doctor to get a cat scan or something. You never know.
Before heading back home I decide to drive around a bit to see what else is in the area. I’m hoping Andrew will want to go out for dinner tonight. We’ve been order
ing food since we got in on Friday. There’s a Mexican place, yum! I’m sold. I head back to the house and completely avoid making eye contact with Eva’s when I drive by. There is something about that place that bothers me.
I pull up to the house and Andrew isn’t back yet. I bring the groceries in and put everything away. I plop onto the oversized black couch and pull out my cell phone. I decide to look up some info on Eva’s. I don’t come across anything out of the ordinary. It was one of the first places to sell ice cream in this town. Opened in 1901, and it’s known for its root beer floats. Seems they have a “secret recipe”. I’ve never had one. Maybe I’ll check it out, if I can get over my anxiety about the place. During my search I find that it’s open from mid-March to mid-October. Seems I missed it by about a week. Likely that there was someone in their cleaning, then. I lock my phone and set it beside me. I put my feet up on the couch and lean onto the arm to get comfy.
“Why are you taking her? I demand to know! What is she being accused of? You cannot do this! You can’t just take her! “
He looks at me, with fear in his eyes. I’ve never seen his eyes look like that before.
“Asha, I promise I will figure this out. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure this is okay. “
“Asha?”
“Hmm, what?”
