by Luis Samways
“It’s not her I’m worried about,” smiles Melisa.
Both of them get out of the car, lugging a few possessions in each hand. The sound of the mini suitcase wheels hitting the gravel crunches along the pavement. Andy sports a pleasant smile and is first to reach the door, Melisa tags behind a few paces.
“Andy, my dear, how are you?” the smiling lady asks as she immediately offers help with his luggage.
Andy kindly refuses, holding tightly to his suitcase. “I’m fine, Patsy,” he says, beaming with splendor as he usually does. Melisa, on the other hand, looks flustered and tries not to make too much eye contact with her mother.
“Melisa, are you okay? You look positively lampooned!” says Patsy. Melisa just shrugs and gently pushes past her mother.
Andy looks on as Patsy gives him a questioning look. “What’s wrong with my girl? Have you two been fighting? She isn’t pregnant, is she?” asks Patsy, in the bullet-point way only a mother can pull off.
“It’s a long story, Patsy. Pour me a scotch, and I’ll divulge,” he says.
Patsy screws her face into a forced yet warming smile. Both of them enter the large house and gently swing the door shut.
Five
“You been hitting my daughter?” asks Melisa’s dad as he sits down in his big red leather chair. He puts down his copy of the Financial Times and picks up his Cuban as he eyes Andy as he sits opposite him on the less red and much lesser leather chair.
“Of course I haven’t been hitting Melisa,” says Andy as he shifts himself into a comfortable spot on the rustic-looking chair.
“So why does she look like she’s been knocked around, then?”
Andy nearly laughs but manages to hold his chuckle down to a mere mumble. “We’ve had some bug problems at our house. The fumigators are there — that’s why we’re here,” says Andy.
Melisa’s dad raises his eyebrow. “Bugs, huh? That mother of yours kept the house in such a condition that bugs would form in and around the premises?” says Melisa’s dad scornfully as he tuts while pulling on his Cuban.
Andy refrains from an outburst. The loss of his mother is still sore on his heart. He decides to change the conversation. “How’s the stock markets?” he asks, trying to find some safe ground to tread on.
“Crap,” Melissa’s dad says.
At that moment, Patsy walks in with a tray of refreshments. A combination of carbonated favorites and bourbons don the tray. She puts the flimsy metal tray down on the low-legged table between Andy and her husband.
Patsy can feel the tension in the room as Andy looks at her with welcoming eyes. She darts her head slightly to the right and sees her husband grunt. “I got you two some drinks. It’s mighty hot outside. Maybe a nice soft or STRONG drink will sort you two out,” she says.
Andy smiles. “I’ll have a whisky,” he says.
Patsy hands over a two-finger of whisky. She looks at her husband across the way. “And you, dear?”
“I’m okay,” he says.
“You sure, Peter?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“Where’s Melisa?” asks Andy.
“She’s gone to bed. She said she was tired,” says Patsy.
“You worn my daughter out, Andy?”
Andy starts to laugh.
It catches Peter off-guard. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“Nothing, sir. It’s just I don’t know what you could possibly mean by that,” he says.
‘I mean, have you been running my daughter down? You seem like the type to take out your insecurities on women… Just an observation.”
Andy remains silent. He downs his drink and stands up. “I’m off to bed as well,” he says.
“Good, dear. Go get some rest,” Patsy says.
“And no funny business,” says Melisa’s dad as he pulls on his Cuban once more.
Andy smiles a forced tight-lipped courtesy and walks out. Once he’s out of the room, Patsy pulls a stern look.
“Why are you so harsh on the boy?” she says, sitting down opposite to her reeling husband.
“Because he’s no good, that’s why. All these city types aren’t. Fucking got given his big house because his no-good mother died. He didn’t earn it!”
Patsy looks shocked at Peter’s rash comments. “Peter! Don’t be so rude!”
Six
“Knock, knock,” says Andy as he enters the bedroom, looking a little ticked off. Even though he doesn’t feel at his best, he wouldn’t be the one to burden his wife Melisa with such trivial matters. His wife sits up in the bed. She gives him an understanding look. He doesn’t need to say much at all. She can tell when he has something on his mind. Like all good women, intuition isn’t something she lacks.
“Hey, dear, you okay?” she asks as Andy sits at the end of the bed.
The bedroom is dimly lit and elegant in its appearance to match the lavishness of the outside. She reaches for the bedside table light and hits the dimmer switch, making the room a little lighter.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just missing the house, that’s all,” he says.
Melisa gives him a sympathetic look. “I thought you were okay with selling it,” she says.
Andy’s eyes widen. “Of course I am okay with selling it. It’s just I would prefer to be there, not here. You know I don’t like coming here,” he says.
Melisa looks annoyed. “I thought you were happy to be here. You sure looked that way when we pulled up to the drive,” she says.
Andy scratches at his face. “That was before I spoke to your dad. He actually asked me if I beat you. Can you believe that shit?”
Melisa bursts out laughing. “Unfortunately, I can,” she says. “He means well, I guess.”
Both Andy and Melisa get into bed and cuddle for a few minutes. The lights then go off, and before both of them know it, they are both asleep.
Seven
“Wakey, wakey,” Melisa says, tugging at her unconscious husband as he snores into his pillow.
“I’m awake,” Andy says groggily. He squints his eyes as he sits up in the bed. Melisa throws herself at him and cuddles him. “My, my, you’re in a good mood,” he says.
She smiles. “Yes I am!”
“Why? What gives?”
Melisa gets up from the bed and walks over to the mirror. She flicks her hair back a few times while grinning at her reflection. She then turns around. “The fumigator said we can go back when we want! It’s all been taken care of!”
Andy seems a bit more awake and finally cracks a smile. “Wow, that was fast,” he says, not quite believing their luck. “We were only here for one night. How can that be?” Andy adds, pondering the situation.
“The guy said he found both of the nests. He said there weren’t many spiders after all. So we should be good to go,” says Melisa as she starts to get herself ready.
“Great. I guess we get packing, then.”
After forty minutes, Andy and Melisa are saying their goodbyes to Melisa’s mom and dad. They get into the car and make their way home. A journey of two and a half hours awaits them, multiple roads, many backdrops, all on the way back home. Melisa braces herself against the passenger-side window and nods off while her husband mans the wheel.
Eight
“Home sweet home,” says Andy as both he and Melisa enter their house. It’s a strange sight. It has an abundance of white sheeting draped on all manner of surfaces. Their house looks alien in its new surroundings, and a rather peculiar smell surrounds the place.
“Gosh, they really went to town, didn’t they?” says Melisa as she puts down one of her suitcases.
“I suppose they did what they had to do,” says Andy as he surveys the chaos.
Melisa nearly stomps her foot as she sees some markings on the wall of the hallway. “Look at the walls! They ruined them,” she says.
Andy shakes his head. “I guess a paint job is in order, then,” he says.
Melisa nods again, trying to calm herself down. “We can’t be showi
ng the house in this state.”
Andy runs his hands across the slick wall with the strange markings on it. “Feels warm,” he says.
Melisa just watches him for a long moment. “Do we just get someone else in to redecorate?” she asks finally.
“No way. We need to save as much money as possible. The fumigation has already cost us an arm and a leg,” he says.
“I suppose,” Melisa replies.
They both pick up their belongings and make their way upstairs to unpack. The sight of their bedroom isn’t much different from the sight downstairs. Melisa isn’t happy as she unpacks her suitcase with a hint of fury in her rapid motions.
“It will be fine,” says Andy as he tries to comfort his wife. She doesn’t say anything, but just continues to unpack. They remain in silence for what seems like the rest of the afternoon.
Nine
“I’ll get it,” says Andy as he hurries to the door. The loud knocking continues. Someone urgently wants to be seen, by the looks of it. Andy’s face crinkles a bit. He wonders who could possibly be knocking on the door in such an urgent fashion. He gently opens the door, not knowing what to expect. He immediately feels a little better at who he sees.
“Hey,” he says. The real-estate agent smiles at him. The corners of his mouth curve a little as he looks Andy up and down. “I thought you were the police or something. Sounded like you were about to burst through the door,” Andy says as he wipes the sweat off his brow. It’s still rather hot outside, even at six in the evening. Andy wasn’t expecting the real-estate agent that day, and he certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to be thumping at his door.
“Sorry about the banging on the door. I tend to knock quite loudly. It’s one of my bad habits, among others,” the estate-agent says as he coughs and spits on the doorstep.
Andy nearly loses his temper. He can’t believe the man who was selling his house was spitting on the property. He composes himself. “No problem,” he says. It must be the area. Andy has come to the conclusion that nearly everyone in the area he lives in is weird in their own special way. “Please come in,” Andy says, stepping aside for the agent.
They both walk into the kitchen. The real-estate agent is mesmerized by the state of the house. The white drapes that the fumigators left behind are still covering most of the work surfaces in the kitchen. A dim gleam of light manages to cut through all the sheeting and lights up a small crevice of the room, like a spotlight at a play.
“You guys redecorating?” asks the real-estate agent as he sits down on a stool.
“Nope, we had the fumigators come in. We got rid of all the spiders.”
The agent’s face brightens a bit. “Good! Well done. I like that. Initiative.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. We were more concerned about getting spider bites,” Andy says, he, too, taking a seat next to the real-estate agent. Andy spots some files that the agent is carrying and immediately wonders about their contents. Could it be an offer for the house in such a short amount of time? His curiosity gets the better of him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asks.
The agent smiles and sets the files on the table. He shifts his weight on the stool like he’s trying to get comfortable.
“We’ve had an offer,” he says, gleefully smiling as he snaps the files open and starts reading their contents.
Andy just smiles. He can’t believe his luck. He knows the property is of some value. Hell, $410,000 is a lot of value. But he didn’t expect to receive an offer in less than twenty-four hours. “How much?” he says unapologetically. Andy has never been one to shy away from such important questions. He’d rather just get down to the nitty-gritty of it.
The real-estate agent’s facial expression deepens. “That’s the thing,” he says, unnervingly. “The offer is a tad lower than what we wanted,” he continues.
“And?” asks Andy impatiently.
“$300,000,” says the agent.
Andy’s heart drops. “$300,000? You said the house was worth $400,000. You even said we could get 410 for it! What the fuck happened to that estimation?”
The real-estate agent shifts his weight once more. Now Andy knows why he is so fidgety. It must be because he is nervous. “We can’t control how much people are willing to put down for a house. We need to see what other offers are going to come our way. I wouldn’t worry about it. Just make the house look nice and re-take some pictures. It will bring in more serious offers.”
The agent gets up and grabs the files.
Andy just looks on in disbelief. “$300,000?” he says in utter shock.
“As I said, Andy, spruce the place up a bit. It looks old and unused. We know what it’s worth, but unfortunately we need to make it look like it’s worth the amount we had in mind.”
“But that means spending more money,” says Andy, his voice showing signs of cracking.
“You need to spend money to make it. I’ll see myself out.”
The real-estate agent leaves the kitchen and makes his way out of the house. Andy can hear him leave through the front door. Andy collapses into his clasped hands. He shakes his head in a depressive stroke and sighs into the empty kitchen air.
Ten
“Are you sure?” Melisa bellows in shock as Andy takes a shot of whiskey.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. He said we need to make the place look good or we won’t attract the offers we are after.”
Melisa shakes her head. “That’s horseshit. He’s trying to milk us. I bet he’ll want a higher percentage for the ‘wisdom’ he bestowed upon us,” she says.
“It’s fixed. Everything is fixed to a contract. He won’t get shit if we don’t sell the house. All he wants is the best price. It’s in his interest to get the house sold for as much as possible, or he won’t make as much money.”
“You could have fooled me. Because the way I look at it, we are having to spend even more money just to get what he said was the actual value of the property. It’s a little fishy to me,” she says.
Andy shakes his head. “Look, once we get the place looking like a palace, I can assure you we will be able to move it. It will be a piece of cake. Just look at the property. It’s a dream place to raise kids. You got a fuck-ton of land for the kids, not to mention room for expanding the place. We will get the best price on this house. All we need to do is get the right people in.”
“You have any ideas?” she asks.
“I’m already well ahead of you, my dear. I have Dayton and the boys coming down to fix the place up. He said he’d do the place for half the price, just because we go way back.”
Melisa takes a cigarette out of her packet of Marlboros and places the pack onto the coffee table. She lights up.
“I thought you didn’t want anyone smoking in here,” says Andy.
“Fuck it,” Melisa says playfully.
“Dayton is good people. We’ll get a good deal on the work.”
Melisa smiles while blowing smoke rings. “And what exactly is ‘Dayton’ going to do to the place?”
Andy grins. His teeth shine in the dim Michigan dusk. “Oh, baby, Dayton does everything! The man is a legend with a hammer. He can make a birdhouse in a backyard look like a palace. The guy would give Jesus Christ himself a run for his money when it comes to carpentry,” Andy says overenthusiastically.
Melisa just nods, hoping that her husband isn’t being too optimistic. She knows the place needs work. She isn’t ignorant when it comes to the truth. She knows that the house is falling apart. It has that lived-in feel, but the problem is that too many people have lived in it. Generations have loved and lost behind these walls. She knows for a fact that Dayton had better be everything that Andy says he is and more. The place needs a miracle worker, that’s for sure. ‘We’ll see,’ she says plainly.
Andy nods. “We will!”
Eleven
Andy wakes up in a cold sweat. He’s been out for the night. The mid-morning sun beams through the crack in the drapes. He looks
around nervously. He sees that the spot in which Melisa usually sleeps is empty. He immediately shoots up into a sitting position. “Melisa?” he says loudly. He turns his head left and right. The motion blur in the room is surreal. He can feel the panic in his throat. Words don’t quite come out. “Melisa!” he screams. Then he feels the tingling in his throat. It’s as if spikes have been embedded in his windpipe. He tries to scream again. This time nothing comes out. Just the sound of him choking is present. He collapses onto his back. His head hits the pillow. He can see the ceiling fan above his head rotating. Its speed slows down significantly. It looks as if it’s going at a much slower rate than usual. His heartbeat slows down. The sweat on his forehead increases. His breathing becomes shallow. He can feel the tingling in his throat rise up. Finally he succumbs to the overwhelming desire to shut down. Seconds later, he stops struggling. Seconds after that, he stops breathing. A short while later he lies on his back, motionless.
His wife comes through the bedroom door, holding a tray. She sees Andy lying there, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his chest not moving. “Andy?” she says, with a slight tinge of fear in her voice. He doesn’t move. She drops the tray in shock as a dozen spiders crawl out of Andy’s open mouth. She screams.
“Melisa! Melisa!” She opens her eyes. She sees Andy standing over her, holding a freshly picked rose.
“Morning! You looked like you were having a bad dream,” he says.
Melisa sits up. She rubs her face, trying to force the morning into her eyes. “I’m fine,” she says.
Andy lays the rose on her bedside table. “Good. Dayton is here, by the way. They’ve already started work on the outbuildings. They’re painting them green. I thought it was a good idea. It really brings out the freshness of the country. It’s going to fit in well with those new pictures. I can’t wait,” says Andy, nearly losing his breath with excitement.
Melisa just sits there, dumbfounded. “Shhh, I just woke up,” she says, nearly snapping at her loving husband.