Story One of Ten- The Photo

April 1st

The Photo

Tina slowed her car down to idling speeds as she approached where the house should have been.  7100…7102…7104, that has to be it.  She puts the car into park in front of the mailbox with 104 on it, the seven worn to the point it was unreadable.  It was one of those big grey plastic mailboxes with no personality whatsoever.  It could be opened from both sides, but still, how boring, she thought.  She grabbed the scrap of paper lying in the passenger seat to check the address was right for what must have been the fourteenth time since she got in the car.

MORE AFTER THE BREAK

 

It was right.  She got out of the car, quickly locking it and pulled the bottom of her blue plain t-shirt so that it covered her white belt holding up her jeans.

She exhaled deeply as she walked through the grass up to the dark brown wooden door.  This always made her nervous.  A friend of her parents had asked her here.  She had never met them, and her parents had never really mentioned them until now.  

She needed money, and babysitting was the staple way for a girl of sixteen to make some quick cash.  And the recent start of her sex life necessitated an inflow of cash disconnected from her parents carefully measured allowances.  She was sure she would be having sex after this gig was over.  She had stolen his abstinence ring that night when she saw he took it off.  She wasn’t going to let him get away with being disingenuous.  

And it wasn’t likely he would ask her about it.  That conversation would likely go something like this-

“Hey babe, have you seen my ring?”

“Your ring?”

“Yeah, my, uh, my ab…, you know what, never mind.”

 

It was his idea to have sex, to a point.  She wasn’t unwilling.   But now she was hooked.

These thoughts helped quell the nervousness as she was about to knock on the door.  She noticed a doorbell that wasn’t lit and a knocker on the wooden door.  Which to use.  If the doorbell wasn’t lit, there was the chance it didn’t work, and pressing it would yield no results.  

And they did have a knocker, seems like they’d want you to use it, she thought.  And it was a big knocker, a metal one that was the same dark brown as the door.  A big circle, like a nose ring you see on a bull, probably eight inches in diameter.  She grabbed it and slammed it into the door three times in quick succession.

The door opened three exhales later.

“You must be Tina, thanks for being a bit early, we are in a hurry to leave” said the tall tan man who answered the door.  His hair was in a military cut, and was light brown.  He was wearing a light red button-up shirt and black dress pants. 

“The baby, Thomas, is sleeping upstairs.  Instructions are on the kitchen counter.  Bottles are in the fridge.  Be back by 11.  Goodbye” and with that, he went out the door and shut it behind him.  Tina then heard the sound of him locking the door.  That was a first.

She wasn’t particularly upset with the short conversation, it was actually relieving as these things could go on and on with most parents believing a three credit hour course was required before one could safely take care of their brood.  He didn’t seem to have much concern.

What also struck her as strange, as she heard his car leave the driveway, was that he said “we are in a hurry” but he was alone.  

She went to the kitchen to find the note to see if it would fill in the gaps.  This is the note she found-

Hi Tina.

Sorry I left in such a hurry, but Thomas’s mom should be back by 11, perhaps a bit later, hope this doesn’t interfere with any of your plans.

Rules-

     1.  Don't enter any room with a shut door.

     2.  Don't go into my study, even though there is not a

          door.

     3.  If the baby cries, give it a bottle.

     4.  None of the electronics work.  Can't go into the 

          details

Enjoy.

P.S.:  A man will stop by at 9.  Tell him I am not at home.  He will offer you money for a certain photograph.  Tell him you don’t have a photo (you don’t).  Just tell him you are afraid of spiders and he will leave, hopefully.  He won’t harm you so no need to worry.

Your money is in the mailbox out front.

And that was all.  The note was typed and not handwritten, which seemed to violate “rule” 4.  What the hell was she going to do for the next five hours?  And what about this guy who was going to come over?  Both of those thoughts ran over and over in her mind.  Strangely, the guy stopping by demanding a photo and the prospect of being bored until then held the same amount of importance to her.

Well, she thought, fuck rule 1 and 2.  If a family didn’t keep her occupied it was her right to snoop as she desired.  After all, it was what any reasonable person would do in a home by themselves.  Well almost by themselves.  If she was lucky she wouldn’t have to deal with baby Thomas.

She placed the note in her pocket and headed down the first hallway she saw.  At the end of the hallway was the room without a door.  The three other rooms all had shut doors, which, she found, were locked.

She then wondered if the bathroom door was one of these…

Turning around, she was determined to find the bathroom, the one door that just had to be open.  She went up the stairs next to the kitchen and found one hallway, with all of the doors shut.  And all locked, she found out moments later.  This was far beyond the most strange babysitting gig she had had.  It was beyond the fears she had of awkward dads trying to sleep with her.

She couldn’t even pee, for Christ’s sake, she thought.  She pulled out her cell phone and held down the two button.

Calling Chrisiebooboo…

.

..

…

“Hey babe, thought you were babysitting?”

“yeah, well, I am, but it is really fucking weird”

“what did the dad try and sleep with you” Chris said, giggling throughout

“no, no, way weirder”

“what do you mean?”

Tina was pacing back and forth in the upstairs hallway, not even thinking about the sleeping baby she was told about.

“well, uh”, she didn’t know exactly how to start, feeling overwhelmed by the situation and strangely frustrated by his inability to already know what was going on.

She explained how the father of the baby, Mr. Johnson (she was told by her parents), had just said a few things and ran out, alone (after saying ‘we’), and then she read the note to Chris, leaving out the bit about the stranger.

“Well, that is strange, but-"

“but nothing Chris!  They locked all the doors there are to lock!  Even the bathroom and, I guess the bedroom where the baby is!  What if it starts crying or I need to pee or something!”

“It’s only for the next, what, four and a half hours?”

“That is a long time to hold it or have a baby cry and not drink milk!”

“You aren’t responsible for the Johnson’s neglect of their child, ok?  And after this strange affair is over, you will come over and then you will come-

“Ok, thanks Chris, bye.”

She hung up and began to try to open every locked door in the house.  No luck.

She had to go to the study, the only room beside the kitchen (which, she now that she thought about it, smelled vaguely of rotting meat and spoiled milk) that was open for her.  If it was to be so private surely he would have put a door on it.  It seemed too convenient that the room that he wanted to keep the most secret wouldn’t even have a door while even the bathroom was locked.

Too convenient indeed.

“That photo is probably in there too!” She said aloud, chuckling at her own joke as she descended the stairs and walked towards the study.

He said that none of the electronics worked, but the lights did, once again, conveniently, she noticed for the first time, having taken lights working for granted.

Before she betrayed Mr. Johnson’s trust, she decided to see how much money was left in that boring mailbox.  She unlocked the front door and went out.  The sun was about to set on that late May evening.  She crossed the neatly cut lawn and opened the side of the mailbox facing the house and pulled out a thin envelope with “TINA” written on the front in pencil.

She went back inside, locking the door behind her.  She quickly ripped the envelop open, not even trying to preserve the shape of it.  She pulled out one twenty dollar bill.

“Are you fucking kidding me” she mouths.

She walks back inside, stuffing the twenty into her purse and throwing the envelop on the ground.  She immediately marches into the study and flips on the light.

Just a computer on a desk are in front of her.  The computer, like all the other electronics (sans lights) doesn’t work.  So she pulls open the drawers and begins looking through the shelves that are mostly filled with paper.  The papers look uninteresting, and the only thing she is looking for is photos.  Mainly, one photo, though she doesn’t know what this photo has on it.

Only fifteen minutes until the man arrives wanting the photo, and if she wants his money she has to find the photo.  It occurs to her that if she gives the man the photo, Mr. Johnson will know she took it from his study.  So no money then.  Either way, she will know what is on that photo.

She grabs a stack of the papers and throws them on the ground, hoping they will separate.  They do, but there are enough that the separation still leaves a lot of paper covered.  Scanning the mess on the floor her eye hits a small patch of color.  

A photo.

She reaches down and pulls on the corner that sticks out.  It slowly slides out and she brings it into view.

And she sees…

A baby in an incubator at a hospital.  

“Whaaaat the fuuuuhhaaaaaaaak” she cries out, falling onto her knees.  She begins to put the papers into the stack when she hears the doorbell ring.  Guess it does work.

It rings again and again, and she knows this guy won’t leave unless she answers the door.  She leaves the mess on the study floor and walks to the door.  There is no way to look out at the person at the door so she slowly opens it.  

Suddenly the door is pushed open and Tina jumps back from it.

The man is wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and dark grey jeans.  It is too dark on the porch to see his face under the hood.

“Do you have… the photo?” he mutters

“Um…” she thinks, forgetting the passphrase to get this creep out of here.  She pulls the paper from her pocket and searches it for the phrase.

“Uh, uh, I’m, uh, I’m afraid of spiders!”

“Bullshit!” he shouts at her as he pulls his hood down and reveals that his face is covered with a ski mask.  “I know you’ve seen the photo and therefore have the information you need to give me!”

“But, you, I, but”

“I know you have it because,” he pulls off the ski mask revealing that his face is in fact covered with a pair of tan panty hose “I took the envelope stuffed with a hundred dollars and replaced it with twenty, and I knew that would send you into a rage, looking for the photograph!”

“But, how did you, but” as she was mumbling the word convenience flowed through her mind.

“Look, I know he probably told you not to-

He was interrupted by the piercing cry of a infant, coming from up the stairs behind Tina.

“Ah, shit” she said, “you woke the baby!”

“Wait, there is actually a baby?” he said, his actual talking voice muffled by the panty hose.

“Well, yeah, I am baby-sitting.  The door to the baby’s room is locked though, so I can’t give it it’s milk, the milk that is… fuck!”

“Just give me the photo!” he shouted, growing exasperated.

“The milk has gone bad too then!  Dammit!  What an idiot!”

“I don’t car-"

“Look!  I’d give you the photo but then they’d know it was gone and my parents would be even more mad at me then now and I’d never be able to see my bo-“

He raised his hand to her face, signaling her to stop talking with his open palm.  “Look,” he said gently, “I don’t need to take it with me, I just need the numbers on it”

“What numbers?  It was just a picture of that baby you hear crying right now!”

“A baby” he said in such a way that all the words, if typed, would be in italics “in an incubator”   

He stared at her with his panty hosed-face until he realized she didn’t understand the difference between what he said and what she had previously stated.  “The incubator had numbers on it, from the hospital.  I need those numbers, just let me write them down and I’ll give you the rest of your baby sitting money” (which he said in such a way that required double strength italics).

“But! But he said you’d give me money if I gave you the photo not that you would steal my money and give it back if you saw my photo!”

“Yeah, well, the situation has changed, huh” he said smugly.

“Uh! You are such a jerk” she said as she walked to the study.  He followed, unsure of whether he should follow, doing the quick head movements, pretending to look around.  The baby continued to shriek from up the stairs.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I have a wire hanger in my car from the dry cleaners I could give you to open the door up there in the baby’s room, to stop it from crying”

“Well, she said, searching through the cleaned up papers for the photo, “if you have fresh unspoiled milk too that would be just perfect”

“Actually…”

She turned to look at him.

“No, I don’t” he said and laughed.

She shook her head and muttered asshole under her breath.  She finds the photo in the middle of the stack and turns toward the panty hose headed man.  “Here is your stupid baby picture asshole”

He pulls a notepad and pen from his back pocket and quickly writes the series of numbers he needs.

“Thanks bitch” he writes as he folds his notepad and puts it in his pocket.  He pulls out an envelope and hands it to her, and quickly walks back to the front door, picking up the ski mask and putting his hood back over his head.  He leaves the door open as he jogs to his car, opens the back door, grabs something, and runs back.

“Here is the wire hanger!” he yells upstairs toward the baby as he throws it up the stairwell, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.

“Bastard…” she whispers as she runs upstairs to grab the hanger.  It lies on the third to last step from the top.  It has one of those dry cleaning papers covering the hanger’s body.  She takes the hook and bends it straight up, trying to make sure there are no curves.

She approaches the door to the babies bedroom as her bladder puts pressure on her abdomen.  

She looks at the two other locked doors, thinking about trying to find the bathroom before checking on the baby.  “Wraaaugghhugggaaaaa” cries the baby from the other side of the door.

She falls to her knees and begins sticking the hanger’s straightened hook into the hole of the door.  She wiggles it as she twists the knob, realizing that though she knows this can be done, she has never opened a door like this before.  

Finally, she feels the knob turn.  She pushes the door open and stands up.  The room is bitch black and the baby has stopped crying.

She reaches her arm into the dark room and starts rubbing her hand on the wall in a search for the light switch.  She hits it and flips the switch up.

Her eyes bulge as she lets out a piercing scream and drops the hanger as the muscles holding her urine inside of her start to relax and the three people, her parents and her boyfriend, yell back to her scream-

“April Fools!”

[the alternative title for this story could have been Deus ex machina, or Babysitter from the Machine]

[Author's Note:  This is a story warning people from entering into premarital sex.  If you do, eventually your parents will make you pee your pants.  And, this situation is basically what parenting is like.]