Another restless night.
Opening my eyes to the other side of the bed, all I see is…. vacancy. In the sun dimmed room, I shuffle over towards the irritating alarm on the nightstand to see the time. I hit snooze in hopes that the next thing to wake me up is a call saying the factory I work at burned to the ground.
There’s something about waking up on the first day of the work week that boosts the appetite to sleep longer.
Two snoozes later, I get up and tuck in my side of the bed. I unconstrict my morning legs towards the aroma of dark roast brewing in the kitchen. I have one of those automatic coffee makers that you can set to start brewing at a specific time.
I fill a mug three quarters of the way and top it off with some cold water from the dispenser from the fridge door. I prefer it when the first action of the day doesn’t peel off the skin of my tongue. Bringing the mug with, I grab the newspaper outside the door and sit on the couch to read.
The house is big, big for one person at least. It’s a single-story home with a basement, 3 bed, 3 bath, and a 2-car garage. The backyard is large enough to own a sit-down mower, and the neighborhood is quiet. Taking care of the house and lawn has taken a big portion of my free time since my wife’s been gone.
Emilia, or ‘Em’ as I usually referred, left two years ago. In short, we had a big fight that got out of control. The distance between us got to the point where we barely saw each other after getting home from work. For a couple of months, she became quiet and depressed, ate junk food every day, then inevitably left. I haven’t seen her since.
I finish the paper, wash my mug, and head to the shower. I keep my toothbrush in the shower nowadays to brush my teeth. Brushing your teeth, washing your hair, and draining the main vein all in one place seems efficient to me. Being a bachelor has its silver linings.
I get dressed, grab my bagged lunch and drive to work. I live in a smaller town where the majority of its inhabitants work at the factory. I am one of those inhabitants. As per usual, I park towards the back of the lot and make my way in.
The factory I work at produces an off-brand variation of popular breakfast cereals with unclever names. Ever hear of Crispy Cinnamon Squares? No? Well, it sort of tastes like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but for a third of the price.
My job title is, “Quality Assurance Manager”. I manage a small team that checks the boxes once everything has been packaged before sending them to shipment. Essentially, I just sit in a fishbowl office in hopes that none of them have problems for 8 hours.
Entering the building, it’s filled with commotion. People screaming to one another in hopes to communicate over the decibels produced from the machinery that can crush your eardrums. The walk is filled with noise. So much noise. It irritates me beyond belief. I instinctively clench my fists together as I make my way through the massive building towards my office.
My forearms immediately relax the moment the door to the office is closed.
A few hours later, I grab my lunch and head to the breakroom. I see my buddy Cole sitting at a table and sit next to him. Cole is a friend I met working here over the years. We’ve known each other for a while, him and his wife have been there for me since Em left.
“Hey what’s up man, have a nice weekend?” He says, as I unpack my lunch.
“Ahhh, pretty uneventful honestly. Did some chores, mowed the lawn. The usual.” I replied.
Finishing a bite of his sandwich Cole says, “Well hey, you want to get together this weekend and do some grilling? It’s been a while. I could bring the family, and a few beers over.”
Opening the container of last night’s leftovers I respond, “I actually tried grilling the other day, but the igniter is busted.”
“Ah bummer” Cole disappointedly responds.
Looking at him I immediately reply, “But I can come over to your house, provided your wife is ok with it?”. I tilt my head towards him, “I’ll bring the buuuuurgers”.
Without skipping a beat, Cole laughingly says, “My wife says yes!”
We continue chatting for a while until Mark from HR comes into the breakroom with a stack of flyers. Mark is handing them out to the other staff in the room until he makes his way towards our table.
“Hey guys, as you may have heard, Patty just came back today. The department is going to be throwing together a potluck for her and her family after the memorial tomorrow.” Mark says as he hands us both a flyer.
“It’s a little last minute, but we want to make her feel welcomed back to help her through this time. You can find the address on here. There’s no need to bring any food if you can’t, but do you best try and make it. The company agreed to give everyone a half day.”
Both of us study the flyer and thank Mark as he leaves towards the next table.
“Man, I can’t believe it’s already been three months.” Cole says, with sadness in his voice.
I turn to Cole and say, “Yeah, you’d think that for a small town there would at least be some sort of new information on it.”
Patty’s sister Darleen went missing almost three months ago. From the rumors I’ve heard around the office, Patty and her family have been draining their accounts over that time in hopes to help find her. Apparently, all they’ve found were her belongings covered in her blood, some footprints, and signs of struggle from her on the outskirts of town. Their funds must have hit the limit and forced her to come back.
The flyer states that the memorial for Darleen is at the rec center connected to the church a few blocks from my place. Patty and her family must have given up on the search and agreed to have a memorial instead.
“We should make something to bring tomorrow.” I tell Cole.
“Yeah, it’s sort of last minute though…might just bring some chips and have the wife make some dip.” He says reluctantly.
Thinking for a moment, it dawned on me that I knew exactly what to bring.
“Ooohh, I’ll make some deviled eggs. I remember Patty saying she loved those a while back.” I say, confidently.
I finish my lunch and tell Cole that I’ll see him tomorrow. I mention to tell his wife to be hungry this weekend.
After work, I drive towards the main grocery store in town. Internally, I think of what is needed to make devilled eggs as I walk the isles. I grab some eggs (obviously), mayo, mustard, paprika, and chives. Heading towards the deli, I wave to Hank behind the meat counter. Hank’s been in this town his whole life, recently became a grandfather, and loves to call people pal.
“Evening, pal!” Hank says, on queue with a smile. “What can I get for ya?”
I return the smile and say, while studying the selection behind the glass, “Let me get 1lb of your chuck, and another of your ribeye.”
When Em and I got married, we were gifted a meat grinder for burgers. I’m glad I’ve kept it since she’s been gone. I’ve never gone back to pre-ground beef since.
Hank pulls a slab from each section behind the counter and wraps them together.
Taking the package from him, I say, “Thanks pal, have a wonderful night!”
I pay for the groceries and jump in the car. The sun started to set while in the store.
I see the neon lights of “Gary’s Grill” on the commute home. It’s one of the local drive-thru spots on the main stretch of town. I often frequent a visit there these days.
Pulling the car up to the menu, I hear a recognizable voice welcomely say over the microphone, “Thanks for stopping at Gary’s, what can I get for ya?”.
Immediately I can tell that the soft voice over the microphone is Jodi’s. She’s the niece of the owner, Gary. She’s a smart girl, graduating this year, and working her way to save enough money for college.
“Heeeey Jodi, I’ll have a large number 4 combo with a Coke.” I say, in a friendly tone.
“Oh hey, it’s you!” She says, recognizing my voice. “The usual, huh?” She says, as I can hear her smile through the microphone.
“You got it!” I say with a grin, impressed as she knows my order.
“So, I’ve got the number 4, double cheeseburger, large fry and Coke. Will that be all tonight?” Jodi states confidently.
I think for a moment and say, “Hmm, you know what? I’m a little hungry tonight, throw in an order of chicken nuggets while you’re at it.”
Jodi repeats my order and tells me to head to the next window. I drive up and we exchange pleasantries as I pay and eventually take the bag of food from her. I head home with the aroma of greasy burgers and fries engulfing the car. I impatiently reach in bag to grab a nugget.
I pull into the garage, grab the bag from the passenger seat and juggle the groceries from the trunk inside the house. I leave the bag and Coke from Gary’s on the living room coffee table and motion to the kitchen to put the groceries on the counter.
With a sigh of relief being home, I take my shoes off and make my way back to the living room. Grabbing the bag as I sit on the couch, turn on the T.V and pull out the chicken nuggets.
Since Em is no longer here, I’ve found it more lonesome to sit at the dining table by myself rather than the couch.
I wash down the nuggets with the remainder of the Coke and turn the T.V volume up to max. I grab the remaining bag of food and head down the stairs to the door that enters basement.
At the base of the stairs, I put the bag down as I unclasp the few metal latches on the door. Lifting the metal bar that secures the door shut, I pull it open to a pitch-black room. In an instant, there’s a waft of a vile odor that fills my nostrils from the other side.
The light from upstairs dimly reveals the shadow of someone curled up in the corner of the room. I reach down to the bag of fast-food and throw it at Darleen.
I lock the door, go upstairs to the kitchen, and start boiling water for the eggs.