Chapter 2: I Prefer Fresh
I truly wanted the freakiness of yesterday to be a dream. I had tried to throw away the flower but found myself unable to. I couldn't explain it. Even though I was extremely weirded out, I just couldn't get rid of it.
A different kind of flowery scent tickled my nose. I ran my hand over my mattress and felt the silky softness of petals. My eyes snapped open and I found myself holding a small bouquet of daffodils. My heart raced with fear. Someone had been so close last night and I was helpless as I slept.
Without hesitation I threw off the covers and got dressed. I was on a mission. This is my house and I wasn't going to be scared out of it. I grabbed my keys and walked out of the front door, my mind set.
My first stop was the local hardware store. I was going to change all the locks and invest in deadbolts. As crazy as it sounded, I was also going to get a chain for the basement door. It was, after all, the first point of contact.
"I can recommend a good lock smith to help you if you'd like miss," the old man behind the counter offered.
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that," I replied with a small smile. I knew I probably looked like a frazzled mess. A weeks worth of stress and a day of weirdness would do that to a woman.
He rang me up and handed me a business card with my receipt. I looked at it and read 'Hannah's Locks'. If it weren't for the padlock hanging off the bottom of both of the S's I would have mistaken it for a beautician's business.
"My granddaughter," he said. "She knows her stuff and she'll treat you right."
This time I gave him a large, genuine smile. There was just something about a man of his generation supporting a woman in another male dominated field that made me happy. With everything going on right now, I was glad to find something to make me feel any kind of joy.
It was then that my stomach decided to let me know that skipping breakfast wasn't the best idea. So I decided that my next stop would be to a local diner. As I waited for my breakfast to be served, I decided to give Hannah a call. Hopefully she, or one of her employees, would be able to come out today. If not, then I was sure there would be some kind of online video tutorial on how to install them myself.
As I waited patiently, a cellphone three tables down began to ring. A young woman with shoulder length blonde hair answered.
"Hello? This is Hannah of Hannah's Locks."
I couldn't help it. I began to laugh. I watched as she jerked her phone away from her ear in startled surprise. She then looked at me and her mouth pursed in disapproval. I hung up and walked over to her.
"I'm so sorry about that. I just couldn't help myself," I said as I calmed myself.
She looked at me skeptically. Yeah, I was definitely making a good first impression. I offered my hand to shake.
"I'm Laura. Your Grandfather gave me your card this morning. I was calling hoping to hire you to install new locks on a house I just moved into."
"Do you have the owners permission to change the current locks?" she asked as she shook my hand.
"I am the owner."
This time she smiled. It seemed she finally found the funny in the situation.
"How about we talk about this after breakfast?" I offered.
"Or you could join me and I write it off as a business meeting?"
I laughed again. Counting this impromptu meeting as a business meant she could write it off on her taxes. It was a trick I'd learned from my real-estate agent as she helped me look for a house. I retrieved my drink and silverware to join my new acquaintance.
"So, tell me what you need," she said as I settled into the seat across from her.
"Well, I just bought a little three bedroom house and need new locks and deadbolts installed as soon as possible," I said.
The frazzled look must have returned to me as I told her. Her sharp eyes watched me closely. Concern colored the warm chocolate depths as she saw something in my expression.
"What else do you need?"
"That's it," I replied looking away.
"What else?" she asked again forcefully.
"I'd like more secure windows but I can't really afford that. Besides, you're locks, not windows."
"My family is everything house related," she replied. "The only reason Pops works at the hardware store is because his retirement was driving Gran stir crazy. If he was able, he'd still be an electrician. Arthritis made the choice for him though."
I sipped my drink and waved at the coming waitress.
"Sorry," I said to her. "Unplanned breakfast meeting."
"Don't worry about it. Still separate checks?" she asked.
"No," Hannah replied. "I'm paying for us both."
"That isn't necessary," I told her as the waitress walked away.
"You'll be paying enough with the work you're giving me," she replied nonchalantly.
I couldn't help but agree. I suddenly felt the urge to tell her about the chain I planned to install on the basement door. I felt silly though. After all, how hard was it to put in a few screws? Besides, if I said anything she'd probably think I had a few mental screws loose.
"So where do you live?" she asked as she cut into her fluffy waffles.
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After setting up a time for Hannah to come over and install everything, I walked out of the diner feeling much better. I was glad that she was willing to do it despite the fact that it's Sunday. She had said it was because she could see that it was something I needed and she wanted me to feel safe in her home town.
I drove around for a bit to familiarize myself with the town. There was something reassuring about it. It felt like the kind of place where people knew and took care of each other.
I was drawn to a small store off the main street. Spiritual Peace was written in bold lettering on the sign above the door. My parents, religious born again Christians, hated that I went to places like this. But I always felt a sense of calm whenever I would enter such stores.
The tinkle of the chimes next to the door announced my arrival as I entered. The space was wide open and inviting. Incense wafted through the air conditioned store and I felt the tension leave my body.
A man dressed in what many would consider church casual came walking out from the back. He had a box tucked under one arm as he expertly weaved through the displays of crystals and statues.
"Welcome. You must be the new girl in town," he greeted as he placed the box on the counter next to the register.
"Laura," I said without thinking.
"Laura," he repeated as though testing the feel of my name. "Lovely. Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, let me know. My name is Mac."
I nodded and did as he said. I found some sage and a beautiful blue dream catcher. I also picked out a large feather of a snow owl. I took my findings to the counter where Mac was sorting the product from his box.
"Planning to do some smudging?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just a precaution. I moved into a new house and wanted to make sure nothing is there that shouldn't be."
Like hell was I going to tell a stranger that I was sure there actually is something in my house.
"Good idea. Although it would have been better to do it before you moved in so an attachment couldn't form if there is something."
I already knew that. Unfortunately life got in the way and I hadn't gotten the keys until Thursday afternoon after an abnormally short shift. I had needed to save my hours for the torture that John had planned for me on Friday. I swear that man owed me in the worst way.
Mac handed me my bag and I smiled at him before I walked out. I didn't notice him making a phone call as he watched me drive away.
When I opened the front door of my house my knees nearly gave out. My furniture had been rearranged and several of my boxes had been unpacked, broken down, and stacked next to the door. I knew it hadn't been my parents. They went to church every Sunday and wouldn't be out until lunch time.
Whoever or whatever was doing this really had to stop. First the flowers and now this? Granted they could have acted aggressively but instead they were being helpful. Still, this was way to freaky.
I pulled the sage out of my bag and grabbed a lighter from my box of candles. I lit the bundle and began to smudge the house. I started in the living room and made my way through all three bedrooms. I walked slowly, waving the feather threw the smoke to waft it into every corner, nook, and cranny.
Then I went to the basement. I was trembling slightly as I opened the door. I shook my head, determined to not let the fear control me. I flipped on the light and went down the squeaking stairs.
Like yesterday, the basement was empty. I saw nothing and no one down there. Not even a spider which I had heard were a common problem in the area. A loud knock sounded from upstairs making me almost drop my sage. I quickly ran back up the steps to find Hannah at the front door.
She didn't even bat an eye at the sage or the feather. Without a word she got to work on the front door. I doused the burning herb and decided to take the broken boxes to my car so that I could recycle them later.
When I returned I found her installing what appeared to be a much sturdier lock than I had bought.
"Uh Hannah?"
"Trust me. These are much better than those locks you bought. They are solid iron and rust resistant. I'll take them off your hands and won't even charge you the difference. "
I was surprised at the generous offer. I could tell that they were far from inexpensive. I wondered why she was being so nice to me. Before I could ask she stood up and headed to the back door. As my own Grandmother always told me, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I let Hannah do her thing as I turned my attention to unpacking my kitchen.
An hour later she had changed the locks on the front, back, and garage doors and added deadbolts to each. As she looked through the bag I had purchased from the hardware store she found the chain lock.
"Do you still want this?" she asked holding it up.
"Yeah but I can install it," I said as I reached for it.
"Don't be silly. I won't even charge you for this one," she said as she headed for the front door.
"No. It's not for the front door," I said as I followed her.
She stopped abruptly. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Great. Now she was bound to ask questions. She turned around slowly and looked me in the eyes. She raised a single inquisitive eyebrow but said nothing. I lowered my gaze, unable to look her in the eyes.
Without another word she handed the chain lock to me. She never took her eyes off of me as she reached into her work bag and pulled out her cellphone with a card reader attached.
"Debit or credit?" she asked.
"Debit," I said with a sigh.
I retrieved my card from my wallet and she swiped it. I entered my email address and a moment later I received my electronic receipt.
"If you are putting that anywhere inside the house, an iron decoration on or over the door would work better. The last owners didn't listen to me and moved out within three months."
And with that she turned a left the house without another word. I tried to not let her words get to me, sure that the sage had worked. Speaking of, I had let it dry and decided I wanted to continue burning it. There's no such thing as to much cleansing right?
My favorite thing about moving was being able to redecorate a space to my tastes. Despite the fact that a complete stranger or strangers had done it, I found I actually liked where my furniture had been placed. I placed all of my pictures and statues tastefully around the space giving it a feeling of fantasy and warmth.
I had become so consumed in my unpacking I didn't notice time passing until my cell phone alerted me to a text message from Mom. If we didn't communicate on a daily basis she became concerned about me. Just a simple message saying I'm alive and alright was all it took to soothe her nerves. I decided to take a short lunch break before going back at it.
Hours later the majority of the house was unpacked and I was happy with the how it was looking. Every time I had a stack of more than five broken down boxes I would take them out to the car. Unfortunately I had more of them than I had space. What was left was piled next to the front door to remind me to take some out every time I left.
I decided, while my adrenaline was still pumping, I'd go out to find a recycling bin. Thankfully it was common practice for big name supermarkets to have them in their parking lots and I had spotted one while I was exploring.
After wrestling the boxes into submission, I knew I was in desperate need of a shower. The cleaning part could wait until tomorrow and then I would spend the day relaxing. The warm water massaged my aching muscles that were quickly loosing their will to continue moving.
I quickly cleaned myself and dried off. I listened to my house, half expecting the knocking or any other sound out of the ordinary. Instead I was meant with a different scent. It smelled like sage only different. I put on my robe and cautiously left the bathroom. Sitting on the kitchen counter, next to the dried sage, was a bundle of freshly picked herbs. One of my notebooks lay open. Scrawled on the page was a single sentence.
'I prefer my sage fresh.'
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