I try the handle. It's open. I walk inside the kitchen. Silence. Doesn't seem like anybody is home. I look around. Not much has changed... The place just got older. I look at the pictures on the wall... The few that we managed to take... I'm hesitant. I carefully move towards my old bedroom. I try the handle and it opens. The south side, mid-summer, sunshine blinds me for a quick heartbeat. I blink twice.
“A woman.” I stick my head back out into the hall. “These are my pictures here...” I stare at the frightened thing by the mirror.
“A naked woman in my bedroom...” I look her over... Not bad...
“Who are you!” She wraps the towel tighter.
“I live here. Well. Used to. This is my bedroom. So, I should be asking who you are.” I set the bag down and take another look around the room. I see she changed a few things...
“I rent this room now. Talk to the landlady.”
“Nobody's home right now. Wait. Landlady?” I turn to the girl again. She nods. “She never told me she was short on cash...” A noise in the kitchen tells me someone's back. If it weren't for my childhood pictures, I would have thought I had the wrong house, but now.
“Isaura! I'm back! Are you here!” Typical. I hear the fast steps approaching. I stand away from the door, facing it. It bursts open.
“I got lucky today at the market! You won't believe what I got–“ she freezes. “YOU SON OF A BASTARD!! What do you think you are doing here! Out! Now! You’re scaring the poor thing! Out! Out! Out!” She flogs me with the kitchen towel. I carefully make my exit. Isaura, huh? Not a very Italian name...
“Pardon the cretin! I'll take care of him. Take your time, child. Don't worry about anything. Be as you were.” She says, walking out, closing the door.
“Hi, mom.” I say. She ignores me and storms back into the kitchen. Right... I follow her. I don’t miss the summer heat... I stand in the doorway, watching mom rustle with the groceries...
“You haven't written in a lifetime and now! Here you are! What do you expect me to do now!” She moves around in the tiny kitchen like an electric spinner...
“Kick me out, of course.” I answer.
“Oooh that would be tooo easy for you! Then you could use me as an excuse for not coming back here again! Ever! I will not grant you such pleasure! You can stay on the couch. Ah. Isaura uses the room sometimes to write so DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING on the table!” She points a finger at me, warning me, like I'm five again.
“Understood.” I nod and slither away into the living room. A stack of papers sit on the desk, some scattered around, a few pencils... She writes, huh? I try to read some... Looks like she can't decide on something... I leave the papers be. Metallic noises pick up from the kitchen. Ma's as loud as ever. I smile. The wallpaper is coming off... The floors aren't looking that great either... Well now. Isaura stares at me from the hall. I come over closer to her.
“I apologize for walking in on you like that. It was my mistake.”
She shakes her head lightly. “I understand you are the owner of the house, I'm sorry for living here. I will leave today.”
“He is no owner of nothing! I am!” Mom yells. “And you aren't going anywhere! You stay where you are. He'll be fine on that.” She points to the couch. “Well don't stand there like a lug! You can at least introduce yourself!” She mumbles something in fast Italian. A habit of hers... I extend my hand.
“Leo.”
“Is that short for Leonardo?”
“No. Simply Leo. It can be short for anything. Call me Leonardelli, if it helps. My father had a weird sense of humor.” I smile. She takes my hand.
“Isaura.”
“A pleasure.”
“I'm sure.” She lets go and goes into the kitchen. I take a cigarette out.
“Do not even! Out!” Mom flogs her weapon of choice at me again. The kitchen towel. I step back out to the back yard.
“Why don't you ever lock these doors? It was open when I got here!” I yell to her.
“YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL ME HOW TO LIVE MY LIFE!!” Mom's pissed. I smile. Yet she let me stay still.
“Want one?” I ask the girl.
“I don't…”
I put the pack away. “You rent my room?”
She nods. “I have today off work. I’m usually out from early morning to late night...”
“Not the other way around?” I tease her. Her expression changes. She presses her lips together tight and grins at me with contempt. Her green eyes are glaring at me. The short sleeve shirt she has on is getting wet at the shoulders from her long, black hair. I finish my cigarette.
“Not a fan of jokes?” I walk back inside. “Anything I can help with, Ma?”
“Oh NO! I managed thirteen years without you! Thank you very much!” Right. I walk away again. I go the room next to mine. The door's locked. Huh.
“Why's the study locked? If you're renting rooms out?” I return to the kitchen and ask Ma. She takes a string off her neck with a key attached to it and throws it to me. I catch it.
“I use it for storage. Make yourself useful and clean it out. You have a better eye for valuables than me. I'll sell whatever I can.”
“Are you having money trouble?”
“Of course! I've had those even before I was born!” Such drama...
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“Why didn't you tell me? I did write. I could have helped...”
“Ha! Once a year he wrote! Always from a different place! I don't need your charity! If you wanted to help, you could have stayed and helped! Properly!” She's in full flare now... I sigh and go get my damned bag from what used to be my bedroom, apparently. I toss the thing on the couch and plaster some notes on the table. Ma turns to me.
“Rent. Let me know how long I can have the couch for.” I step back. Ma waits a moment and takes the cash. She counts them and puts them into her apron.
“A month. With three meals a day.” She tells me turning back to the stove.
“And if I make it one meal a day?” I mock her openly.
“I will not have you spouting rumors about me and how horrible of a landlady I am! I said three! It means three!” Classic Ma. I quickly remember the girl and look around for her. I step outside. Nothing. I go back in and spot her by the desk.
“Wouldn’t a typewriter be easier?”
“It would. Don’t have one. Nor the money for it.” She answers without stopping her scribbles.
“Why do you write?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Gotta have some kinda hobby.”
“Wouldn't you rather hang with the gals?” I ask crashing on the couch. Another shrug.
“Not interested.” Oh? Her face seems rather serious. I glance her over again. Sandals. Below the knee skirt. A belt. And the stupid shirt that's clearly men's. What gives?
“Where do you work?” I ask again.
“Post office. Sorting.” Hmm.
“Isa dear, would you mind giving me a hand?” Ma yells from the kitchen. Isaura gets up without a word more and goes out the living room. Noise outside picks up a little. Laughter. Giggle. Chatter. That's right. The bus stop. I get up and look out the window. A bunch of ladies stand around. I move the vase off the windowsill and move it over to the desk. Carefully, I open the window and call out.
“Evening, ladies!” They scream, a little startled, and laugh loud again.
“Sly fox!” One says.
“You scared us!” Says another.
“He came out of nowhere!” Says the last one. All giggle again.
“Pardon me.” I smile. “Where are you all off to, this evening?”
“Home.” The blonde smiles.
“To our husbands.” The redhead winks.
“All of you?” I look at the brunette.
“Yes.” She answers.
I frown. “Such a loss, for me... Tonight.” I add quickly. The women laugh again. The bus arrives and they leave me with my lonesome in the window, waving me off. I wave to them too. I stare out the window. Not much has changed here either... There's the beach, the road. The bus. The people. The fence. The yard, and our house.
“IDIOT! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!” A towel smacks my head.
“What! I didn’t...” I turn around and watch the water flood the desk and soak the papers, as the vase lays flat on its side... The window must've knocked it over...
“Well don't just stand there! Get the towels! Grab the pages! DO SOMETHING!” Ma waves her hands around, trying to salvage the sunken ship. I pick a page up, the words are streaming down... The pencil lost the fight...
“Everything is ruined! This is all your fault!” Ma continues.
“How is it MY fault that SHE uses a pencil! Look at this? It's leaking ink!” I shove a page in Ma's face. Isaura stands in the doorway. I petrify where I stand. The eyes... Her eyes... The face...
“Don't worry child, we'll save this! It'll all be ok!” Ma tells her laying the papers down on the floor. Isaura stands there for a moment longer and runs out.
“Isa! Wait! ISA! Happy now? Three years of hard work. Ruined!” Ma mumbles something again to herself. “YOU of all people should understand her...”
“Writing only brings you pain. Now she knows it's pointless.” I say and get slapped in the face. With a hand this time. Mom stares at me with eyes full of anger and hatred. I hold her gaze. Thunder cracks and the sky pours open. Lightning lights up the room.
“Don't stand there like a moron! Go find her! Apologize and bring her back!” Ma storms out of the room. I put the page back down and leave through the back door again. How the hell am I supposed to know where she's at? Wouldn't she just come back on her own? She couldn't have gotten far anyways in this down pour... I walk to the middle of the street. Empty. Of course. I go to the beach. Empty too. Of course. I almost end up walking away when I notice something bright red. The shirt! I jump over the rail and walk. The wind hasn't picked up at all. The rain will stop soon. This happens sometimes... Feels like I'm walking forever though.
I sit down next to Isaura. “You worked on that for three years?” She nods.
“I'm sorry. I acted selfishly and you got hurt because of it. It wasn't intentional... I just...”
“It's fine. It's not like it was any good anyways...” She says. “It was just a cheap way to pass the time.” She smiles and cries. The rain isn't doing much to cover her pain up...
“I'm truly sorry...” I say again. She nods. The wind suddenly picks up, throwing the sand into our faces. I spit some of it out of my mouth.
“We should go back now.” I get up and offer her a hand. She stands up without it. Her brown skirt has turned dark from the rain and the sand. We walk back. I figured it would stop as fast as it started... Guess I was wrong... We come back to papers hanging around off the kitchen curtain wire. Isaura walks past it all and into the living room.
“You're back! That's good! Oh, you're soaked to the bone! Wait here!” Ma runs out. Isaura walks over to the desk. She stands there looking at it... A towel lands on my head.
“Here, honey, dry off, quickly quickly. Go change. Don't worry about this. I'll fix it. It's fine. I'll get the water. You need something warm to drink.” Ma storms out again. Isaura gathers all of the papers up. She picks all of them up, even from the floor and stacks them all up. She opens the window again.
“What are you?” I watch her as she throws the pages out. The wind scatters them.
“What are you doing!” I close the distance between us in one leap. The papers fly away, land on the ground and get soaked...
“What did you do that for!” I grab her by the shoulders.
“I'm tired...” She whispers. I stare at her as she stares at the floor... The wind blows in.
“For the love of god! What is going on! What is it! Why is the window open! Where are the pages?” Ma comes over to us. “Child!”
“It's ok, Mama Maria. It doesn't matter anymore.” Isaura smiles at Ma. “I'm tired. It's fine.” She walks away from us. Ma slaps me again.
“It wasn't me! She threw them!” I yell.
“None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you!” Mom yells at me again and leaves the room again. The wind blows again and I quickly shut the damn window. I throw the towel off me, take my stupid bag and walk out the door.
“DON'T YOU DARE!! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!” Mom's shouting stops me. I wait. “You will stay here and find a way to fix this! I forbid you to leave till then! She is a good girl and does not deserve to have her dreams trampled on!!” Ma goes back inside. I return to the kitchen.
“Dreams? She said it was a hobby?”
“Nobody works that much for just a hobby.” Ma mocks me.
“How long she's been here?”
“Three years.” Ma says setting the tray and takes it to the girl. I doubt she'll eat... Ma comes back.
“Poor girl. She can't even eat.” Called it. I roll my eyes. I take my bag again and go to the study. I take the key out of my pocket and open the door. Dark. Dusty. Gloomy. I set the bag down on the floor, open the curtains and look around. Storage... It looks exactly like it did thirteen years ago. She hasn't touched a single thing in here. Even that broken thing is still here... I close the door and lock it from the inside.