Approaching Menace

by June Shaw

  She leaned her forehead against his door. “I am so sorry.”

  No sounds came. Surely he fumed, hating her.

  She thought she heard whimpers. Josie moved off to leave him to his feelings.

  In the den she turned on his music. Without a sound, Colin came in with a pallor replacing his cheeks’ crimson. His eyes kept diverted when he stood before her, holding his arm out. Josie removed the stained tape and was relieved to find his shunt hadn’t been damaged.

  “I’d like to check your temp,” she said.

  He clenched his teeth around the thermometer. He didn’t look at her while she waited, checked and then wrote the number. Ninety-nine and four-fifths.

  Recording the temperature, she also wrote that he’d been running. Aware that he wanted to avoid her, she took her machine out. She would sew on what she’d cut out before dinner.

  She began sewing a side seam, her stitch slowing when, across the room, Colin spoke.

  “You should’ve seen me, Fred. I caught a bullet,” he said to his dialysis machine. Colin’s chest stuck out with pride, Josie saw from her outer vision. “Mom threw it to me. I crashed through Jimmy and ran in the end zone.” The little-boy voice deepened. “And then somebody had to go and make us quit playing.”

  Josie didn’t have to raise her eyes to know his stare aimed at her. She kept her gaze trained on the black fabric beneath her fingers. Mashing her shoe against the foot petal, she made her machine work faster and louder.

  An hour later, when tension in the house seemed to fold over on Josie, Andrew called. A friend’s car broke down. Andrew had been helping him all afternoon.

  Josie told him what had occurred with Colin and now his fury. Andrew offered to shower and come over. “You sound exhausted,” Josie said. “I’m okay.” Her burden seemed lighter from having spoken with him.

  On Monday morning Colin’s attitude toward her didn’t improve. He stayed out of the kitchen while Josie ate breakfast, and when they both headed toward the hall bathroom, he turned around and reentered his bedroom. Josie didn’t go out while he waited for the school bus but heard him coughing more than he had in previous days.

  Convincing Sylvie to bring the new dress back to the store took a lot more out of Josie. She showed her mother the pattern she’d created from looking at the black dress Sylvie purchased. “I starting making you one exactly like it,” Josie said, eventually getting her to agree to get her money back. Sylvie appeared pleased but uncertain.

  Work was slow at the shop, giving Josie time to herself. She adored her sibling and knew her own place in Colin’s heart, but also knew he hated being different from his classmates more than almost anything else in the world. He had grown paler and was looking weak ever since he exerted himself playing football. He kept coughing too much.

  What Colin needed was someone else’s kidney.

  Josie phoned Dr. Hagger’s office and told the nurse about his problem.

  The additional cough, his slightly raised temp, and his pallor didn’t seem like major concerns to the nurse. They were symptomatic of the chronic respiratory difficulties Colin incurred. The nephrologists had surgeries scheduled and appointments booked. Colin’s situation was not an emergency. He could wait and come in for his regular appointment later in the week.

  At work Josie flung around accessories, rearranging them. She moved hats to one end of a counter, and collars in a display case came out. Putting them together, she spread the group on top of the glass. Six people came in. Three made purchases.

  Andrew phoned from work to find out how she was doing. “Talking to you always makes me feel better,” she said. Andrew assured her he wished he could be with her right now, holding her close, sharing kisses and more.

  She wanted to be with him. By the time they hung up, she was experiencing heightened sexual tension. She smiled, anticipating their next encounter.

  Walking toward the front of the shop, she spied a brown envelope jutting from beneath the door.

  She lifted the sealed envelope. JOLENE JOSIEwas printed in large letters on the front. She shoved the door open. People headed in and out of stores. Cars pulled into the parking lot and others left. Nobody seemed interested in the shop.

  Curious and uncomfortable, she let the door close and opened the envelope. It looked empty.

  Josie ran her hand inside. Her finger touched a small piece of what felt similar to cardboard. She pulled it out and discovered a price tag. It was from a pricey store in the mall where Sylvie worked. The tag had been attached to an item that cost almost sixty dollars. Whatever was purchased had been cut off, except for a sliver of the hem from a blue fabric.

  Josie studied the price tag. She peered at the royal blue threads, the hairs on her neck suddenly rising.

  Shoving the tag back into the envelope, she scanned the store. Its silence pressed against her eardrums.

  Hurrying to Cora’s office, she tried the door. It was still locked.

  Josie gazed around the storeroom. Boxes and garments cluttered together. She peered beneath hanging dresses. No feet of anyone stood there.

  “This is silly.” She backed away. It was nothing, only a price tag and threads in an envelope. Not knowing why it came to her or what person set it under the door made her remain uneasy. But she’d received only paper and threads. Blue ones. They made her recall something she needed to do.

  Get Sylvie’s scarf from her car and give it back to her. She would do that as soon as she got off that evening.

  Right now, she needed to call the bank.

  Andrew was about to end his break and get back to work when he picked up.

  She gave him a hurried account of what she’d found.

  “You need to call the police.”

  “And what? Tell them somebody left an envelope with a price tag for me?”

  “Josie, somebody put that envelope under the door. And that person printed your name on it.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s strange,” he said, pausing a moment as if to think. “Ask the police what they think. Maybe they can pick up fingerprints from the envelope.”

  “Andrew, if this were written by a bad person, don’t you think he would have worn gloves to hide his prints?”

  “I don’t know. Listen, I need to get back to work. Call the police.”

  “I love you. See you later,” she said and hung up.

  She stared at the envelope. Her name was printed in a strong handwriting. And she was being silly. Why would she fear a person who slipped an envelope under the shop’s door?

  A teenage girl entered the shop, making Josie put away thoughts of what happened.

  Josie sold merchandise to four customers during the afternoon. Better than some days. Not nearly good enough for Mr. Ripley to break even. He popped in for a few minutes, saw her selling a quilt to an elderly couple, and nodded. He had things to do, he said, but Josie had no idea what could keep him so busy. None of his family lived nearby, except his ex-wife, and he had no hobby he’d admit to.

  Mr. Ripley tsk-tsked when he took cash from the register before leaving.

  Josie’s car was hot as she opened its door after work. She sat inside, trying to recall something she needed to do. She pressed in the clutch and the accelerator, turned the key, and heard whining.

  She tried it again. The sound repeated, and the smell of gasoline told her she’d begun flooding her car.

  Turning the key off, she removed her feet from the pedals and forced herself to sit still. She stared out the window. A few cars were still parked. Only one truck passed on the street.

  “Do this gently but firmly,” she told herself, trying the key again. The motor turned over. Josie pulled onto the street with a nagging apprehension about the brown envelope now in her purse. She had to do something.

  Pick up Colin, she remembered.

  He came from the field house looking less ragged than the day before. Obviously Colin hadn’t been running.

  “Had a good day?” Josie as
ked after he flung his bag and himself in her car. He shrugged.

  She started away, glancing at him from the side. “Did you get to work on a computer?” she asked, trying to get him to speak and at the same time spying the dark blue sedan she’d recently seen here. This time she wanted to check to see whose parent bought the new car. From the angle Josie had and its lowered visors, the driver’s face was hidden.

  “No,” Colin said. He shoved his head back and shut his eyes, letting her know he didn’t want conversation.

  Back at home, he remained in his room with his door open. From the hall Josie saw him at his desk doing homework. He coughed, noticed her watching, and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the sound.

  Josie set up the dialysis machine and said it was time for his treatment. He came right out, carrying a science textbook. “Have a test?” Josie asked. Nodding, he kept his eyes toward one page while she checked his weight and pressure. When she hooked him up, he stared at his book.

  The phone’s ring interrupted their tension.

  Josie’s friend, Cindy McAllister, sighed. “I’m bored,” she said. Cindy had lost her job with the construction company that shut down. She’d been trying to find other work, but employment was scarce. “I even tried some casinos along the coast. Nobody’s hiring right now. They all took my application.”

  “You’re a hard worker. I’m sure something will come up soon,” Josie said.

  “Thanks, but jobs are really hard to come by, Josie.” She sighed. “So what have you been doing? Still taking care of your brother. And your mom?”

  Before Josie could respond, Cindy said, “I sure hope you have energy left over for Andrew.”

  “I do.” By the time they clicked off, Josie felt weary. She didn’t like the reminder of how tied down she’d become. She wished she had more time to give to Andrew.

  Returning to her sewing machine, she heard its running stitches, but thought she heard more. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a slush of footsteps from her past kept haunting. The steps came from her father and mother, walking behind, dragging her back into their mire.

  Josie looked up.

  Fred was making that noise.

  She hurried to the machine, turned knobs, and made adjustments. Fred hummed once more, and the light stopped flashing. Colin only glimpsed at her.

  Again sewing, Josie noted news from the TV. The last tropical disturbance had dissipated, but a new one was forming in the Caribbean. She saw its distance below the Florida coast and shuddered, hoping that one would also fall apart.

  Going to her bedroom, she drew the large envelope from her purse and studied the printing on it. Her name was penned in large letters with black ink. No other markings. She took out the price tag and wondered. Nothing came. Too many concerns had stayed with her. She grabbed her phone and called Andrew.

  His voice and Johan’s answered on their recorder. They were both out.

  Monday night football, she remembered. The two had a ritual of going to their neighborhood lounge to be with friends. They loved the excitement of cheering with peers when the Dolphins played, and Josie always told Andrew to go. She needed to give Colin treatments on Monday nights, and Andrew had this custom long before she came into his life. She didn’t want to be the cause of it changing.

  He would get home late. The only message Josie left said, “I really love you.”

  * * *

  When she entered the kitchen in the morning, Colin had already gone out. His cereal bowl sat rinsed in the sink.

  Sylvie emerged from her bedroom wearing the dress Josie had stayed up late to finish sewing.

  “You look radiant for so early in the day,” Josie said, noticing her mother’s face fixed with extra makeup. Sylvie was a glowing beauty in her black heels, stockings, and sheath dress.

  She turned to allow Josie different views. The curves of her mother’s lithe figure were set off by the slender black linen dress, and Josie noted her eyes’ golden tint matched the highlights of her hair. Sylvie lowered her head in a pose, creating the slightest bulge beneath her jaw.

  If she saw that, she probably wouldn’t eat for a week. “You look terrific,” Josie said.

  “Thank you, honey. This dress looks exactly like the one I bought. You are so talented.” She pecked a kiss on Josie’s cheek. “You really ought to go to that school.” Sylvie strutted toward the back door and grabbed a black textured purse Josie hadn’t seen before.

  Determined not to concern herself with a purse her mother might have bought, Josie followed her outside to see where Colin was.

  Across the way, he sat on the Allens’ driveway watching Annie jump rope. Their schoolbags sat beside them like fat bullfrogs. Colin liked to jump rope and was good at it. But this morning he leaned with elbows on knees and his hands holding his face. He looked weary, even after a night’s rest.

  Josie heard her mother’s heels clicking. What would happen to Colin if she did as her mother suggested and went away to study?

  Sylvie pranced into the garage. Almost instantly, her car backed out, a soft purr from inside its glistening silver. She tooted at Colin and waved.

  Randall Allen, in a white cotton shirt and khaki shorts, had come from his side door and was speaking to the children. Hearing Sylvie’s horn, he smiled and came across the daylilies.

  Josie wondered why he wasn’t working and remembered. He had taken on that new partner.

  She had considered taking the day off herself. She’d stayed up so late putting in Sylvie’s zipper and hem. Colin’s continued anger at her set stress in every room Josie entered, making her weary. But she needed to go to work. It was too late to call the woman who subbed for her on the few days she’d missed. And Josie wanted to earn the money.

  Sylvie’s front passenger window lowered when Mr. Allen reached her car. “Good morning,” he called to her and Josie.

  “Isn’t it a pretty day?” Sylvie asked.

  “It is. Mrs. Aspen, you always look nice, but I saw you coming out today and you look exquisite.”

  Brakes hissed, and Josie saw Colin scrambling with Annie to reach the school bus. At least he’d been able to muster that much energy. Mr. Fletcher, across the street, stared at them, then stooped to continue his daily pruning beneath the palm trees.

  “My daughter made this.” Sylvie spoke extra loud, making certain Josie heard.

  “She did?” Mr. Allen smiled at Josie above the hood of Sylvie’s car.

  “Yes,” Sylvie said. “My little girl saw this designer dress and copied it perfectly.”

  She and their neighbor flashed smiles at Josie, giving her a pride she seldom felt. Her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  “I had no idea you had such talent,” he told Josie, and she responded with a small shrug.

  “Well, I need to go,” Sylvie said. “Both of you have a great day.” She backed the New Yorker away and Josie turned to go inside.

  Motion across her back lawn snagged her attention.

  Another neighbor was there. Maurice Exely, between the pale plumes of pampas bushes, stood frozen when Josie’s gaze met his.

  She turned back to look for Mr. Allen, but he was already reaching his yard.

  Peering again at her own, she saw only bushes. No sign remained that moments ago a man had been there. Maurice had disappeared like an apparition.

  And maybe he was, she thought, reentering her house and trying to calm the jitters that swooped over her. Maybe the stress between Colin and her made her mind create threatening images.

  She strode to her room. Her purse was open. The envelope she saw lying beside it was real.

  * * *

  Soon after Josie opened the shop, she rearranged the few items of antique jewelry that were out of place, wishing Cora Ripley would show up. Cora made funny comments. She often made Josie grin when she rolled her eyes whenever Mr. Antonelli came in with his wife and stared at Josie’s breasts. And Cora provided company when sales were slow.

  “Ah, what a lovely woman
you are,” Josie told the mannequin with her head cocked, reminding Josie of her mother. She reached over the hair of the simulated person and slipped a double strand of pearls on her neck. “And what a gorgeous necklace you have.”

  Josie arranged the pearls so that the longest end rested below the stiff breasts beneath the lace dress, saying, “Where did you ever find this lovely jewelry?” Leaning as though listening to the parted lips painted red, Josie said, “Oh, I see. Sylvie gave it to you.”

  Enjoying her game, she clasped the dummy’s cold hand. “It is so nice speaking with you.”

  The door opened. Hal Ripley shuffled in looking as though his home had collapsed. Without lifting his eyes to meet Josie’s, he stared at the mannequin. “Pretty,” he said, touching the necklace she’d draped. He slipped it off the mock person.

  Josie watched in wonder as her boss of two years went into the storeroom and emerged carrying empty boxes. He placed the pearl necklace inside one of them. Without explanation, he gathered collars and hats and placed them in a box.

  Terrible scenes expanded in Josie’s mind. “Mr. Ripley?”

  He faced away, his shoulders hunched forward so he seemed not to have any. “I’m sorry, Josie. I can’t afford any more losses.” He gathered belts, turned, and stared at her.

  The meaning of his words sank through the fog in her mind. “But you can’t just shut down.”

  Ripley opened his mouth, but it remained slack. He returned to his chore. More items clinked in his box. “With all of the bigger stores, we can’t keep up. That’s what Cora’s numbers tell me.” He was quiet and then added, “She’ll probably be coming in later. That’s all I need now.”

  While Josie’s thoughts screamed “You can’t do this,” she joined in getting musty boxes from the storeroom and stripping away the quaint shop that provided her family’s security.

  Chapter 8

  Two people came into This ’n That Shop. The Antonellis.

  Mr. Antonelli’s deep-set eyes seemed more sunken when he saw the store almost bare, and his wife’s small eyes expanded. “How can you do this?” she asked Hal Ripley, the same question that remained in Josie’s mind.