By Rochelle L. Sharpe
Anticipation pulses through Anya as she hears the car pull up outside. She rises, making her way to the door, giggling quietly before schooling her features and opening it.
The man steps onto the porch, his aftershave hitting her nose, the scent marking his youth. “Mrs. Jansen? I’m Jed Barker. The agency sent me.”
“Yes, yes, come in, come in. I’ve been expecting you.” She shuffles back, spins around, and leads him to the kitchen.
“Am I interrupting company? There are some cars out front.”
“Oh, are there? Occasionally hikers park here. Though I don’t know why anyone would hike these trails. Risking their lives with Thompson’s Ravine, they are.” She tsks. “Tragedy Ravine more like it.”
“I’ve never been much of a hiker myself.”
“Wise of you.” She sits at the table.
“Do you get lonely living all the way out here in the woods?” he asks as he sits.
A common question.
“I like the solitude,” she tells him. “And out here, no one can hear you scream.” His mouth drops at her words. Cackling, she flaps a wrinkled hand at him. “Just kidding.”
He snorts. “Right.” There’s a twinge of nervousness in his voice. “So, the agency said you’re looking for someone to help with the gardening and fix things around the house.”
“That’s right.” She stands. “Let me get some refreshments. It’s hot out.”
Anya retrieves a jug of homemade lemonade from the refrigerator—its tangy scent tickling her nose—and two glasses, then places them on the table. She grabs the container of cookies she prepared earlier and puts it beside the lemonade before sitting back down.
“You certainly know your way around for someone who’s…”
“Blind. You can say it. That’s why you’re here, to help a blind old lady like me.” She opens the cookie container and slides it forward. “I’ve lived in this house for thirty years. So, yes, I know my way around.”
He pours a glass of lemonade and pushes it toward her before pouring a glass of his own.
“Thank you.” She takes a small sip.
Jed gulps his down, rather noisily, and places his glass back on the table. “That’s some good lemonade.”
She dampens the glee rising in her chest. “I’m pleased.”
His sleeve rustles as he reaches for a cookie, followed by a loud crunch as he bites into it.
“These are good, too,” he says.
“Thank you.” She leans forward. “Tell me, young man, have you traveled much?”
“A bit,” he says. “I did a trip to Australia and New Zealand last year. Bali and Vanuatu the year before.”
Excitement stirring, she cocks an eyebrow. “You like the beach?”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t get time to surf much when I’m not on vacation, but I get out when I can.”
She can’t help the giggle that escapes. It’s been so long since she’s seen the beach.
A thump sounds from the spare bedroom.
“What was that?” Concern sharpens Jed’s voice.
“Just my dog. I put her away so she wouldn’t jump all over you while we talk.”
“Oh.” He lets out a little laugh. “They didn’t mention you had a dog. I love dogs.”
She lifts her lemonade to her lips to hide her smile behind the glass.
“So, what would you like me to do today?” he asks. “Get out in the garden, or is there something in here you need help with?”
“Oh, something in here.”
Another thump, and she frowns.
“Maybe we should let your dog out,” he suggests.
“Soon, soon. Give me your hand.” Anya holds her hand across the table.
A pause, and then he slips his hand in hers.
Sandy white beaches, blue skies, and clear water fill her mind. She savors the images she can’t see with her own eyes.
“Oh yes, you’ll do nicely,” she says, letting his hand go.
She stands and hears him stand, too. She pretends to stumble, and he clutches her elbow.
“Such a gentleman.”
Anya half-leans against him as his memories wash over her. She flicks through the ones of his day so far, until she’s back at the beach. She watches the waves crash, delighted by dolphins jumping out of the water.
Anya reluctantly lets the memory go. “Let’s go free my dog. She is in the spare room at the end of the hall.”
She lets him lead her.
The door creaks as Jed pushes it open. “What the…?” Images of what he sees fills her mind, his fear and confusion with them. Layla, her latest nurse, is tied to a chair, and Bobby, the delivery driver, is bound beside her.
“I don’t feel so good,” Jed slurs.
“Don’t you worry.” Anya gives him a shove. He collapses to the floor. “I’ll let you go eventually.” She grabs the rope and ties his hands and feet. “And you won’t remember a thing when I’m done with you.”
Layla struggles in her chair. She is too fresh, too full of memories still. Bobby sleeps on, drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Now that Jed is here, she can let him go. He’s still got one or two memories in him before his mind is useless, so not quite yet.
“Feel like going for a little hike tomorrow? Weather is supposed to be lovely.” She chuckles.
Just imagining him stumbling around near the ravine sends a thrill through her. If he’s lucky, someone will find him. If not, it’ll be such a tragedy.
Stepping over to Layla, she places a hand on her head.
Layla stills as her memories flow into Anya.
Sweet, sweet memories. Anya watches until she’s had her fill.
“Now be a good little puppy and keep quiet.”
Anya practically floats to the door. She hums happily as she locks it and slips the key into her pocket.
And to think, the doctor told her she would never see. She cackles as she leaves her little buffet to simmer until her next feed.
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Interesting concept, seeing/stealing the memories. Written well which helped make the whole thing feel a bit creepy.