My family has always been relatively poor. We weren’t starving by any means, and we could afford basic necessities, however, fancy things like vacations, dining out and extracurricular activities were out of the question.
We lived in a pretty rough neighborhood and were always arguing about whose turn it was to do dishes, laundry and similar chores, so imagine my excitement when my parents told me we’d be getting a maid. I remember telling all my friends and classmates about it. They never admitted to it, but I knew they were jealous. I could see it on their faces.
My mother had recently gotten a raise, and I suppose that’s how we were able to afford it. It was summer break, and both of my parents were working throughout the day, so they’d leave me to mind the place. I was almost twelve after all and could take care of myself.
“Remember to let Mrs. Robinson in when she gets here and use the money I’ve left on the counter to pay her when she’s done,” my mother reminded me, for what seemed like the fiftieth time.
I was only half-listening, too busy shooting zombies on my computer screen.
“Yeah! I will, mom!”
At about noon, the doorbell rang, and I headed to the door to open it. On the other side, stood a tall, plump woman, armed with a mop and a bucket of cleaning supplies.
“Mrs. Robinson?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “This must be the Smith household?”
“My parents aren’t home,” I said matter-of-factly, “They left me in charge.”
“I see,” she said, peering inside, “May I come in?”
I nodded, stepping aside, and helping her with her belongings.
“Well, your parents and I have already discussed everything over the phone, so,” she gestured expressively.
I figured this was my queue to leave.
“Okay, well, I’ll be in my room.”
I returned to my game happily. Our apartment was small, and I expected it wouldn’t take too long to clean it.
I was in the middle of a particularly difficult quest when I heard something smash. I got up immediately and ran into the living room, where I found Mrs. Robinson collecting shards of glass off the carpet. She looked up at me guiltily as I entered the room.
“I’m afraid, there’s been a little accident,” she said, two rosy spots appearing on her cheeks.
“What happened?”
I couldn’t help noticing that the china cabinet was ajar and the shards on the floor closely resembled that of my mother’s favorite plate.
“Your mother asked me to clean inside the cabinet,” she said quickly, “She said the china was getting a bit dusty.”
I chewed my lip, uncertainly. My parents never even let me go near the cabinet, keeping it locked at all times and the key safely hidden away. Had they told Mrs. Robinson where to find it?
Nevertheless, I returned to my video game. After all, I had no idea what kind of arrangement my parents had made, and I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself by asking questions.
About thirty minutes later, however, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I turned to see Mrs. Robinson hovering in the doorway.
“I’d like to clean your room now,” she said, “The living room floor is still a bit damp, so would you mind waiting in the kitchen?”
I paused my game and walked to the kitchen obediently, grabbing my comic book on the way for something to do.
“I won’t be long,” she said, closing the door behind her.
She had been there about ten minutes, when the doorbell rang again. I hesitated and looked through the peephole. It was a man. He was wearing a gray uniform and looked about my father’s age.
“Hello, is uh…Mrs. Robinson in?” he asked, as soon as I opened it.
“Yes, she’s in the bedroom,” I said, “Shall I get her?”
He seemed too busy scanning the room to fully acknowledge me.
“No, no, just point to where she is.”
I gestured to my bedroom door stiffly. What did this man want in our apartment?
“Why are you here?” I blurted out, blushing at my own rudeness.
But the man was already on his way to the bedroom.
“It’s alright, kid. Mrs. Robinson called for some help.”
I watched him disappear into the room. What kind of help could Mrs. Robinson possibly need? Did the stains on my floor require some kind of unearthly force?
Against my better judgment, I approached my bedroom and stuck my ear to the door. I could hear muffled talking, but that was about it.
I didn’t want to be discovered listening in, so I tiptoed towards the living room. I figured the floor had dried by now and was excited to see what it looked like. What I saw, however, left me totally and utterly speechless. The entire room was in disarray. Cupboards were wide open, and their contents were strewn across the floor. The room was in a far worse state than it had been an hour ago. My pulse picked up as I noticed my mother’s china was gone. The cabinet was completely empty.
Suddenly my phone rang, making me jump. I answered it, about to burst into tears. Before I could manage to say anything, however, my mother’s words hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Graham? I just spoke to Mrs. Robinson on the phone. She’s tied up with another client at the moment and said she’ll come tomorrow.”