Page 24 of Tank
“I don’t know,” she groaned. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. I used to be good with people. I could actually carry on a conversation. And now…”
I resisted the urge to point out that she had sort of done it to herself. Not that I didn’t think that she had some legitimate mental issues when it came to leaving her apartment. I understood that it was a real thing. But I also knew that she hadn’t always been that way. She sometimes alluded to a life before this. A so-called normal one, where she had amazing parents, a huge house, and was head of the cheer squad or some shit. Stuff that I never understood.
And because I was always the skeptic and always looking for what angle everyone had, I opened my mouth and voiced my thoughts.
“What do you think was the point of it?” My voice was monotone.
“Huh?” she asked a little caught off guard.
“Why do you think that all of a sudden he wanted to get you talking?” My hand froze midair as all the scenarios and reasons played in my mind.
“Wha- No… I don’t think—” She stopped talking and I felt a tiny bit bad that I’d dampened her little happy moment. She obviously wasn’t even thinking there was a deeper reason for it. I had a feeling she was in some giddy world where she was just plain hoping that he wanted to talk to her and get to know her. I opened my mouth to apologize—something I didn’t do often—when she spoke again. “Looks like your guy is up and moving.”
I set my phone down and put her on speaker as I pulled up the cameras in the house. After he’d left my place, he went home, had what looked like a small break down, and then passed out on the couch in his usual spot. I had been checking on him off and on again but the day was pretty much a bore.
I scrolled through until I found the right camera. He shuffled around, moving towards the kitchen and heading straight for the coffee maker. His movements were slow as he readied the filter and added the water. I found myself slightly surprised. I figured I would have found him with a bottle of Jack in one hand.
“Is he making coffee?” Her voice shocked me through the speaker. I had almost forgotten that I had her on the phone, again.
“Looks like,” I said as if it wasn’t a big deal. My voice didn’t hold the same surprise that hers did. But something inside me warmed at the fact that he was doing something different from the routine I’d seen. He wasn’t automatically waking and reaching for whatever bottle was the closest that had something still left in it.
He hit the start button then rested his hands on the edge of the counter. He didn’t move and his gaze was locked straight ahead out the window that was over the sink. I squinted at the screen trying to figure out what he was looking at. Unfortunately, the angle was all wrong and I couldn’t see much past the wrap around porch.
“What’s he doing?” she asked, trying to figure out the same thing I was.
Sometimes it was actually nice that she could see what I could. However, this job had been like no other. I couldn’t pinpoint why, though. I watched him as he stood, unmoving, and I wished I had a shot of him from the front. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to see his expression. More than all that, I wanted to be inside his head and know what he was thinking about. But I could tell from his slumped shoulders and slow breaths that he was clearly lost in whatever thought held him captive at that moment.
Then it hit me like a sharp knife in between my ribs. I had watched people before. I’d seen their most hidden moments. I had invaded their lives without them even knowing. But this time it felt wrong. I almost hated myself as the seconds ticked by and I kept my eyes glued to the screen.
His head shook and he leaned closer to the window. He brought his hand up and rubbed it over his beard on the side that had the lighter spots on it. I realized then that he was looking at his own reflection in the glass. I wondered if he saw the same thing I saw. Beneath all that hair was a beautiful man and I longed to know what he was like before all the heaviness of what he’d been through weighed him down.
I found myself imagining what he would look like when he smiled and how his full bottom lip of his would pull. Would he give a half smile, with one side of his mouth tipping up more than the other? Or would it be a full-on, face splitting, teeth showing smile? What would he sound like if he laughed? I bet it would be deep and loud. I imagined he would toss his head back as he bellowed to the sky and the rough rumbling sound would vibrate through the air.
But that was all just crazy thoughts. Really, really crazy. Because I didn’t care and I didn’t need to see or hear the answers to any of those questions. I had no right wondering about such things.
“What happened to you?” I whispered without realizing it.
“I’m here.” Lucy’s voice snapped me back to reality. “But you weren’t talking to me, where you?”
I swallowed hard and brought my mask back down. This was a job and I was getting really irritated that I felt like I kept having to remind myself of that.
“Don’t you have some other people to watch,” I said trying to sound playful. Instead, it came out more of a bark.
“Yep, sure. I’ll leave you alone with your stalker porn,” she said brushing off my harshness and I loved her for that. “Call me if you need anything.” Then she was gone.
The rest of the day was uneventful. He drank his coffee and even opened a few windows. But hours later, he was back to drowning his demons or whatever it was that plagued his mind. He passed out sometime right after the sun went down.
I almost wished that it was my night to work because I really could have used the distraction. I was sure that if I had something to do I wouldn’t have spent nearly five hours with my nose practically touching my phone screen. Even the two times it screamed at me that my battery was going to die, I didn’t stop. I just simply plugged it in and carried on.
I took a shower trying to wash away the dirty feeling I had crawling just under the surface of my skin. I read, hoping it would carry my mind in a different direction.
But when I finally crawled into my bed, and his scent filled the air around me, I gave in to all the questions my brain wanted answers to. And what it boiled down to, was that I wanted to know his story. I wanted to know everything. I couldn’t close the chapter on this job until I had the rest of the book.
