Every morning, I wake up long before I open my eyes. I already know who's in the house before I sit up. Nothing moves in my room without me knowing about it, I can feel it.
This morning I have good energy, I don't feel sick or tired. Jack is down in the garage, and Nurse Darby is getting ready for work in the kitchen. Nothing feels off in here, except the absence of anything being off. I can't trust that.
When I get up, I walk around and take a look at everything. It's all exactly where I put it. There's a thin bookmark I placed on top of all the books lined up on my shelf. It hasn't moved from where I marked it. My meticulously placed tiny figurines are exactly where I marked them with pencil. My few clothes and many hangers are separated exactly how I arranged them last night. The door— the piece of paper on the round handle is still balanced perfectly on top.
No one has been in my room. Just in case, I make my bed the same way it was with the old sheets. For a few minutes, I stare at the curtains. Should they be open or closed? I think closed is the safest bet. That's probably everything. I take the piece of paper off the handle, but when my hand turns the knob it feels off. One. Two. Three. Nothing happens.
Very slowly, I crack open the door, there's some resistance. Through the door and the frame I see something hanging on the knob outside. Finally, I open the door. It's some hangers with clothes on the door knob, and a medium paper bag on the floor in the doorway. I didn't wake up and hear this last night, when could this have happened? Is this for me? It must be. I don't know— but I do know I want it.
I slowly take the clothes and lay them right at the foot of my bed. The bag is going to be more obnoxious, so I gingerly grab the handles and lift it up, making only a little noise. I don't think anyone can hear that unless they were up here. I'll have to test the sound in here— footsteps softly march up the stairs— fuck! As fast, but as gently as possible, I swipe the bag inside and close the door somewhat softly. Very cautiously I twist the handle closed. I didn't hear the garage door open or close so it must be Nurse Darby. I hope she didn't see me. Her steps find the second floor and continue into across the hall and into her room. No one else is coming.
I walk around and set the bag on the middle of the bed. I pick up the pile of clothes and hang them in the closet. Right now I'm wearing an oversized green T-shirt from Jack and a faded pink pair of Nurse Darby's old pajama pants. They're comfy, but old, and not mine. On the hangers are a bunch of darker neutral toned shirts of varying sleeves. There are some tank tops and long sleeves and short sleeved shirts, with a lot of texture variety. I appreciate them a lot, this is pretty nice. Just so I don't steal them, I move the shirts from the hangers they came on to mine, and put the old hangers on the bed to the left of the bag.
Stapled on the outside of the bag is a note, "thank you for being so patient with us, you have been nothing if not wonderful. I hope you're settling in ok. Please let me know if there's anything you need or want to talk about :)" and it's signed, "June Darby," with three phone numbers below. Each is labeled with their own name, "Jack," "Me," "Agent Fowler." Oh wow. How helpful, phone numbers for me, someone who doesn't own a phone. Well, the note is very nice. Actually that's pretty suspicious.
On the top of the bag is a small brown box, about the size of a novel. There's nothing on it, but inside is a small new pocket knife, it's a pocket knife with the blade very short like a triangle, a small used multi tool, and my pliers with wire cutters. My pliers were taken when I went with Agent Fowler, I'm pretty relieved to get them back. Agent Fowler must have had it on him. There's a cool feature on one side, where the blade blocks out on the back of it and acts like a hammer and glass breaker. My pack is on my side table, I'll pack it with this stuff later. With that set aside, after that is— oh. What the fuck?
Beneath a crumpled layer of white tissue paper is a new smart phone box. Ok- ok, ok that's just fucked up. There's no way— I look everywhere on the box to find some sort of flaw, the only concern is the lack of plastic wrap. When I open the box, the phone is clean, pristine, polished like no person laid a finger on it. Bullshit. Fucking bullshit there's no way?! I pick it up, it's heavy, and it turns on after a minute to restart. It turns on. I look all around it, everything looks totally normal, everything is real and nothing is marked or scratched on it— but there's a screen protector already on it.
The lock screen says my name. It has my name and Nurse Darby's address on it. It's unlocked, there's even a service provider already attached. There are three contacts, without numbers so I fill them in. Wow, uh, shit, that's . . . Wow. I- I guess I'm shocked. I've never held something so expensive like this. There must be a catch, I shouldn't get too ahead of myself. This is just a loan, I'll have to give it back later.
Right below is a phone case, a very simple, sturdy, orange protective case. I put it on and place it next to my tools. Wow, uh, alrighty then. Cool. Next— pants, just pants, thank fucking god. But when I pick up the first couple layers, there's another box. This fucking bag goes on forever I swear. To my surprise though, it's just a box of snacks. Bars and gummies and other sweets. Oh hell yeah. On the lid is another note, "here's a stash just for yourself, but help yourself to the kitchen whenever ;)" ok, yeah, these are pretty cute. I catch myself smiling at the little green sticky note. Ok. Now the rest is actually pants. All pants here. Yup.
I take out my pants and put the stash box in the bag. This is going under my bed. And it does, neatly hidden away. Nurse Darby gave me jeans, some leggings, a couple old cargo pants, shorts, lounge wear, some new and some used. They go in the wire rack up in my closet. I should really get dressed and give these pajamas back.
I'm happy that Nurse Darby gave me some alone time. It's day three today. I still haven't said much, but I've been trying to. It's hard to know what everyone here is thinking. This whole place is surrounded in mysteries that are so big and world ending, but even the next door neighbors wouldn't begin to think that Jack's motorcycle is an alien robot. Speaking of, I should really thank that dragon one, wherever it is. I don't start school until the next semester, so I have the rest of spring and all of summer to kill. Well— shoot, I forgot about therapy. My first appointment isn't for like a week or so. That's fine.
I put on dark jeans, they're a little loose but I have a plain black belt to hold it up, and an ok fitting long sleeve black shirt. It's a v-neck. I hate v-necks. My pack straps just as well as it always has on my hip. My tools fit snuggly in slots on my thigh pouch. The phone is heavy. The weight feels good. In my other I'm still holding that bar.
I should eat something. If I'm going out I should grab some of my stash, just in case. I slide the bag out and take a couple bars and pieces of candy from the box then return it. I should have enough. If I'm going out I'll need water. My— . . . My water bottle died in that crash. This is why we can't have nice things, Enola, you just can't keep out of giant alien robot battles.
I think that's everything. Socks— I grab a pair of socks out of the closet and finally go to leave, socks and pajama's in hand. Before I go out, I take a deep breath in and a long breath out to calm my nerves. Nurse Darby is by the staircase and sees me. Fuck! My nerves!
"Oh! Enola! Hi, how'd you sleep?" She stops what she's doing and turns her whole body to me. She has a genuinely interested face on. Her head is tilted slightly, and I really feel inclined to answer her this time, and I do.
"Uhm, I slept ok." Everything shifts with her when I say that. She hasn't heard my voice much, so when it hits her ears she looks satisfied. What does that mean? Maybe she's trying to get at something. "And uh, here, thank you for, uh, this . . ." I walk over and hand her the clothes.
"Oh! Thank you so much, let me just put these away real quick." Nurse Darby quickly walks back into her room on the other side of the hall, and Jack's that's adjacent to it; so, she does do that. Maybe only when the person is away, that's smarter. I'll have to double check everything when I get back. When she comes back she asks, "Would you like me to make you anything? You can join me for eggs and toast before I leave." We both start walking downstairs and into the kitchen, I'm several paces behind her.
"Ok," I try my best to sound a little more cheerful, but it really doesn't come out how I intended. Or at all actually.
"I have some boiled eggs but I was going to do scrambled too if that's alright." She looks back at me as she walks to the stove. Sure enough there's bacon and eggs on a pan, some other stuff is on plates on the other side of the stove. I nod to her and sit on a stool at the large island, farthest away on the corner.
It smells so good. I haven't been able to leave my room much, but I'd come down when I was alone and map out the house and look through everything. I'd steal very small samples of stuff to eat, and hopeful they didn't notice. The last thing I want is to get in trouble here. Nurse Darby starts putting together the meals.
"I hope those clothes and snacks I packed are alright. I know we still aren't too familiar so I tried to grab as many different choices as possible— let me know which of them you like most." She sets a large plate in front of me and sits at the farthest stool, there's only three. I can feel myself start to freak out after she sits down— and right after she mentions noticing I took that stuff in. I should give some of it back— whatever I don't like back so I don't take too much. The food is a good distraction. A stock photo breakfast of two toasts, one jam and one butter, some scrambled eggs, some bacon and berries. Nurse Darby continues talking.
"I appreciate you sitting down with me, Jack has long 'grown out' of quality mom time. Always 'too busy' with all of his robot and school business— oh— ahem, 'Autobot,' still getting used to that." Her comment on Jack makes me smile, that sounds so stupid. But what's the difference between the Autobots and robots?
We take a few minutes to sit in silence and eat. The food's good, I didn't expect anything else. I hope I'm not keeping her, but she doesn't look too rushed now. There's no water... uh, speak up, "Uhm, where's your cups?" And I get up from my seat. Nurse Darby pauses for a moment and looks up from her food.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, they're over there in the cabinet to the left above the stove."
"Thanks." Sure enough, cups, various mugs and clear glasses on the shelf above. "Would you like anything?" I grab two mugs, one is green and another has an angry cat on it.
"Water is fine— just from the fridge, it's filtered." I'm certain she wants to get it herself. There's a tense anticipation about her body language now— kind of stiff when I asked about the cups. I fill both up with water and walk back around the island.
"Which one?" I offer the mugs. Nurse Darby takes the cat one and I sit down with the green one. The silence is awkward now. How do I manage to make things so awkward and fast?
"What are your plans today?" Plans? Am I supposed to make plans? "Did you want to go anywhere? I'm sure Jack would be happy to take you anywhere and explore the area on Arcee." All that's left is the berries. Arcee, the Autobots, I have to get back to them. I need to thank them for this, for everything. "Enola?"
"Yes!" I was totally spaced out, "Well, no— I didn't make any plans," I should take her up on her suggestion, "but a drive with Jack sounds nice— Jack and Arcee." I try to look for any suspicion in her face, but Nurse Darby relaxes and nods.
"Cool! That sounds like a good plan. Bear with the boy, he can be really awkward, but I hope you have a very good time." She drinks up the last of her water and gathers her things, I follow everything she does and gather my dishes together, "I can take your stuff for you, don't worry about it." My eyes go between her and the dishes, "you go ahead and meet Jack in the garage." Huh. It takes me a minute to actually set down my stuff on the bar and walk away—
"Thank you." I stop and turn back around, "the food was really good— that cat mug is cute." Why did I say that. Walk away, walk away, walk away. Back down the short hallway and on the other side of the stairs, to the left of them, is the door to the garage on a weird slanted wall, almost facing the kitchen. Jack and Arcee are talking, I can hear it through the door. Be cool, Enola, be cool.
My hand touches the doorknob. I can hear Nurse Darby rinsing and putting away the dishes in the kitchen. The phone is heavy on my hip, I have plenty of food, I just ate, my door is closed and I remember where everything is. I open the door.
Jack stops short of his sentence. He's on the other side of the garage, leaning on a work table with his arms crossed. Arcee is in the middle, sitting on her kickstand as a motorcycle. It's freaky to think that isn't a motorcycle at all. There's a bike and some random tools on another table to the right of the door. Not much else here but some boxes. I have to walk in, stop standing in the doorway like you're lost. Jack speaks up.
"Oh, uh, Enola, wh-what's up? What's going on?" He hugs himself tight and shuffles his feet. He's older than me by a year or two, but he's very timid for a guy.
"I was looking for you, and Arcee." I look at her longer than Jack before I look back up.
"Really? I— well, what can— how can we help you?" He clears his throat. I walk further into the garage and stand directly across from Jack. I can't be as timid as him— if he's anxious I have to show that I'm not, so I put my hands on my hips to make myself bigger. Arcee turns her headlights towards me. Freaky.
"Your mom said you guys could show me around." He's looking between me and Arcee, but she hasn't said anything yet. "I want to see the town," a pause for dramatic effect, "and I want to see that dragon again."
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