Page 5 of Lethal Weakness

“We just moved in.” I glance back to Avery.

Now she’s occupied by watching ants in the cracks of the porch steps, and my neighbor is still tinkering around with the fence that clearly hasn’t been kept up on for years.

My pulse is pounding in my ears.

“How about next week then? Give you time to get settled and get your TV hooked up?”

A grating screech of metal being manipulated forces all of our attention towards the neighbor. He’s bending a portion of the fence back to the post, and when he’s done, he braces his hands on the top rail with a grip that makes his forearms ripple.

It’s nearly indiscernible as he tips his head upward… A fraction of his unblinking gaze lands on the man in my yard… Holding his stare.

The worker glances at me, tips his head, and walks back to his van on the street.

Not a single word is exchanged.

“Bye, Mr. Jack!” Avery yells towards the neighbor’s back as he returns to the raised hood of his truck. He continues tinkering away as if his attention was never diverted.

“How do you know his name?”

“He told me.” She giggles like I should know that because she thinks that I see all of the imaginary friends she talks to.

But as far as I’m aware, he’s never even crossed to this side of that fence he was hovering around. And he certainly hasn’t spoken to my daughter.

She must have come up with it on her own… Right?

“Avery, let’s go.” I grab her hand and walk as fast as she’ll let me in her dress shoes, leading her across the street.

The house I head towards first belongs to my landlord’s elderly mother. The other neighbor is a long-time tenant that his mother is friends with who has refused to move into assisted living.

Part of his condition for renting to me is that I spend time with them, cooking, cleaning, and doing other caregiving tasks.

I’ve never worked with the elderly, but it meant I was allowed to bring Avery with me, and I was desperate for a job.

Just before I walk into the first house, I peek back over my shoulder to the truck in my neighbor’s driveway. I can’t see him clearly, but I swear… He’s watching me.

* * *

I spend four hours at Ms. Chaney’s cleaning her house and resetting her space after years of neglect.

Clearly, my landlord hasn’t been spending much time with his mother. She still had Christmas decorations up, and it’s May.

Ms. Harris was much the same once I got to her house in the afternoon. Except her kitchen was a wreck. She’s too old to be preparing meals by herself, and you can tell. There was grease splattered on the walls and floor. Food in the fridge was months past the expiration date, and some of it was growing its own ecosystem.

I twist left and right, stretching my back the best I can after the longest day ever. It wasn’t horrible, but it was a lot more work than I was expecting.

They were both kind to Avery and even dug out toys from when their grandchildren were still little so she could play while I worked, but as backbreaking as the day was, my empathetic heart has taken a bigger hit.

These women are practically all alone, living day by day in a house where they hardly get visitors.

They were tickled by every little thing Avery did, as if that is the only bit of joy they’ve had in a long time. I get it. She has that effect on me, too. I don’t think I could survive without her, but it breaks my heart that her presence probably made their entire month. If not their whole year.

“Avery, dinner is ready.”

“Yay! Dinosaurs!”

“How about we try the broccoli tonight?”

She shakes her head no. “Dino nuggets.”