Tanked: TANKED (3 page)

Work is work but I stay busy and Friday is here before I know it.  “Oh my lord! You cleaned your room!” Jessie exclaims when he walks in my room still wearing his airline training uniform.

“Yeah, and speaking of cleaning, what in the world did you do with some of my stuff as I still can’t find it anywhere.”

“I didn’t do anything with your stuff,” he says as he put his hands on his hips.

I frown as I argue. “Well you moved some of my stuff. You picked up my clothes and put the hamper in front of the washer before you left last week.”

He shakes his head. “Girl, I didn’t do anything with your stuff and I didn’t have time to put stuff in a hamper so I don't know what are you talking about.”

Worry fills my chest. “Don’t joke like that, please,” I beg.

When he says, “I’m not joking,” I stare at him waiting for him to smile but he never does.

Tears start to fill my eyes and I feel sick on my stomach. “Swear to me, because I’m starting to freak out.”

He sits on the bed beside me, staring at me like I am crazy. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“Jessie, all week things have been moved around and I can’t find stuff like my hairdryer or my earrings granny gave me, and I swear to you, it seems like somebody has used my coffee maker.”

Now he’s looking at me like I’m trying to play a joke. When I don’t smile his face changes and I know he finally believes me. “Are you sure you didn’t forget you moved any of that like when sometimes you drive and don’t remember ending up where you did because you were in deep thought?”

“Maybe on moving some items but, seriously,
I
wouldn’t remember picking up my clothes?”

“Yeah you have a point there,” he nods then asks, “Have you told your parents?”

“No, and you’re not going to either.  They’ll insist I stay with them or have me committed.”

“Do you think someone is playing a prank on you?”

“I thought the exact same thing but how would they get in the house? You’re the only one besides my parents who have a key.”

“Good point. Are you sure you're locking your doors?”

“Yeah, I’m even locking the dead bolts now.”

“Yeah, it took me five minutes to figure out to try unlocking the dead bolt. I kept locking and unlocking the door and pushing on it.”  I burst out laughing imagining him standing at the door pushing on it. He laughs, too, then says, “How about this, let’s look for your stuff. Maybe it got moved or fell behind something, you never know, and while we’re at it we can clean.”

I pout at the thought of cleaning. “Don’t you think you should save yourself for cleaning up after all those passengers?”

“I have several more weeks to rest before I have to do that, now get up and let’s find your stuff,” he orders playfully.

We get up and start looking for my missing items. “I found my hairdryer under the sink behind the towels,” I yell out.  He walks into my bedroom, and holds his arm out with his hand in a fist. I reach out and he drops my earrings into my hand.  “OH! You found them! Where were they?”

“In the kitchen behind the microwave. Did you take them off when you were doing dishes or something?  Prima could have knocked them back there.” 

I thought a minute. “I might have, these always pinch my ears.  We’ve found everything but that doesn’t explain about my laundry basket or the coffee,” I say, still worried.

“I don’t know what to tell you on that one. That is weird. Maybe your granny’s ghost is tired of you living like a pig.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not funny and I don’t believe in ghosts. Besides, if it is my granny why’d she wait till now?  I’ve been living in her old house for almost four years now.”

He shrugs his shoulders and we both stand in silence a few moments when Jessie finally speaks. “Now what are we going to do?” 

I shrug my shoulders as I say, “Let’s get out of here, I don’t care where we go or what we do but I am tired of being in this house thinking crazy stuff.”

CHAPTER TWO

Scared Shitless

After Jessie left yesterday I notice little things being moved again.  My dish soap was under the counter, the top drawer of the dresser was pulled all the way out almost to where it would fall out if it got bumped, and this time a pair of my pink bikini panties were laid out in the middle of my made up bed.  Firstly, I know for a fact I didn’t make up my bed and secondly, it would almost be impossible for my panties to land perfectly flat in the middle of my bed.
Maybe I can ask the police to help me figure out what’s going on.

****

When I walk into the police station I’m nervous. I’ve never been to a police station except on a field trip in the 6
th
grade, but I have hope they’ll be able to help me resolve whatever is going on in my house.  A short while later my shoulders hang in defeat as I walk out the front door of the police station.
I don’t know how to bring them proof. That’s why I went to them for help! 
I have an eerie feeling I am being watched so I pull the strap of my purse high up on my shoulder and hug it close to my side. I walk quickly toward my car that I parked across the street, constantly checking my surroundings.  I hit the unlock button to my car and jump inside, immediately slamming my door shut and locking it.   As I reach to stick the key in the ignition, my hand shakes so badly I drop them in the floor. “Damn it!”  I look at myself in the rear view mirror and speak out loud to the empty car, “Ok McKinsey, get yourself together, and breathe.”  I take several deep breaths and bend down to fish my keys off of the floorboard.  When I sit up I see a dark figure of a man leaning against a building hiding in the shadows, his cigarette smoldering bright every time he takes a puff.   I’m a thousand percent sure he wasn’t there thirty seconds ago.  I crank my car and watch the man who seems to be watching me as I drive quickly away toward home. 

As I lay in bed my mind races with various ideas of what I can do to get proof that someone is breaking into my home.  I remembered when we went on our youth trips the adults would always tape our doors to make sure nobody left after curfew.  So I jump out of bed and found the first roll of tape I could find, which happens to be my fashionable zebra print duct tape. I cut little strips and start placing them over the bottom of the windows, and then I attach a little strip at the top of the back door. 
There’s no sense in putting it over the front door since I go in and out it all the time, but what if they’re coming in the front door while I sleep?
 
Surely not.
  I quickly rip off another small piece and apply it on the top of the front door.  I’m not sure why putting the tape over the windows and doors makes me feel better, but it does.  Maybe because it feels like I’m doing something.  I crawl back into bed and lie there willing myself to go to sleep. The last time I remember looking at the clock it read 2:46 in the morning. 

The next day at work, the clock seems to be moving backwards.  I try to find busy work to make the day pass by quicker.  My mother sent me a text asking if I wanted to come to dinner tomorrow night. She says she is making my favorite meal.  When I sent her a text back asking who all was coming for dinner she ended up calling me, but since I’m at work I let it go to voice mail and boy was I glad.  After work I listen to her voicemail. She fusses why I always think she is up to something and then smile to myself, relieved, when she says it would only be me, my father and her.  You can never be too careful with June Morrow. She’s sneaky when it comes to “accidental meetings.”  I might think I’m going to dinner and I will end up on a dating game show with two of the old choir boys from church and a bum she picks up from somewhere because he seems nice enough and he will give her grandchildren.  No way, no thank you. 

When I get home I check all my zebra protection duct tape and thankfully they are all still in place.  I grab a quick bowl of cereal and Prima and I watch a little T.V. before we decide to go to bed early.
Hopefully I can sleep tonight
. Of course thinking that I jinx myself and I don’t.

As I lay in bed with my eyes closed trying to force myself to sleep, I think I hear something and my eyes pop open.  I look around the dark room, listening.  I can feel my heart beating in my chest.  My eyes try to focus as they follow the sound toward my window. I could see a large dark shadow moving slowly across my bedroom window.  I shakily grab my glasses and then a high pitched screeching noise starts slowly moving across the window.  I sit up and grab my cell phone and dial 911. The noise stops but then immediately begins again but this time it’s at the window above my head. 
Whoever it was is at the window above my bed
. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

My voice comes out shaky and in a barely audible whisper, “Please come quick, somebody is outside my window.” 

“Ma’am, I’m having a hard time hearing you. Can you speak up?”

I clear my throat and speak louder, “Somebody is outside my window!”

Bam—bam— bam— bam— bam
echoes through my dark room, I scream!  They hit the window so hard it might break and I shout to the dispatcher, “Somebody’s trying to break in through my window! Please come now!” Prima who is curled up in a little ball with her eyes wide open and alert, bails out, deserting me.  I’m fully aware a cat would do me no good if someone broke into the house but, I won’t lie I feel more alone now that she’s gone.

“What is your address?” The lady on the other end of the phone asks.

“1704 Cherry Lane.”

I can hear typing and talking in the background when she says, “We have officers on the way now.”

“Stay on the line with me till they get here please,” I beg.

“Yes ma’am, I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear anything else?”

I flip the bedside table light on and look around the room.

I listen quietly then stammer out, “I—I don’t hear anything now.”

“Ma’am the police are close. Are you able to unlock your door when they get there?”

“Yes, that won’t be a problem.” I jump out of bed and grab my purple terrycloth robe and tie it tightly around me.  I tip-toe down the hallway. Why, I sneak down the hallway I don’t know but it makes me feel better.   I jump when I hear a light knock at the front door, then a scratching sound, like I am being taunted.

“Are—are the police, is that the police? Somebody is—is at my front door?”

The dispatcher talks into her radio and I hear the policeman’s response before she even replies, “No ma’am they just turned on your road, they’ll be there in a few seconds.”

I start backing away from the door and jump and spin around so fast I hurt my neck when I run into the foyer wall.  I shake so bad I can barely speak now.

“Ma’am. The police are there now and they’re walking to your door. When they knock, can you open your door?”

“Are—Are—Are you sure it’s them?”

“Yes ma’am, I promise you’re safe now.”

There’s a loud hard knock at the front door.
A peep hole would come in handy right now but of course I don’t have one
.  I unlock it, and crack it open enough to peek out with my right eye. I see an officer and he has his hand resting on his gun. I open the door all the way when I speak back to the dispatcher and force out, “Ok it’s them. Thank you for staying on the phone with me.”

The police are there about fifteen minutes; of course they don’t find anything or see anybody.  One of the officers speaks to me before he turns to leave, “I’m sure it was just some punk kids messing around.  You call us back if you hear anything else as many times as you need us. We’ll eventually catch them.”

I nod my head and double check my locks after I close the door behind the officer.  I go back and check all the windows, even though I’ve already checked them a few hours before.

I go back to my bedroom and barely make it through my doorway when I fall into a crumpled ball on the floor.  I cry hard from being scared to death and have a short mental break down.  I continue to lie there, my mind is blank. I wipe my tears from under my glasses and I notice Prima’s pink nose sticking out from the darkness under the bed. It takes some coaxing but I finally get her to come to me. We lay on the floor for a long time, me petting her and her purring.  When my side begins to ache so badly I can’t stand it any longer. I decide to get up off of the floor. I pick Prima up and crawl into bed. She curls up into my side as I lie awake staring at the ceiling all night waiting for whoever it is to come back, and I have a pretty good idea who it is… Joel.

When it’s time to get up and get ready for work, I get my shower and look at myself in the mirror.
No amount of makeup or coffee is going to be able to fix this.
I do the best I can and I go on into work.  When Mr. Samford enters the back door he walks by, but stops to greet me as he does every morning, “Good morning Ms. Mar—,” he looks up from his newspaper and in a cautious but concerned tone asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I didn’t sleep very well last night is all,” I say and paste a fake smile on my face.

He nods his head and disappears into his office. I pull a mirror out of my desk drawer and suck in a breath, the fluorescent lighting accentuates the bags under my eyes times a hundred.
I should’ve stayed home.