*
The nerves inmy ears rip apart in painful torture with the screeching sound coming from downstairs. Lifting my heavy head from its facedown position on the bed, I blink open my eyes. The analog clock on the bedside table reads: 8:35. Morning or night? I don’t know. My brain is not awake. I’m not in London.
I had this crazy nightmare about Thor plunging his troll-sized fingers into my mouth because I took a bite of an apple. Maybe it was biblical, a Garden of Eden thing. I was Eve and Thor was Adam.
The lining of my stomach feasts on itself. I don’t think I’ve had any food for almost twenty-four hours. It’s time to end my fast. Easing open the door, I peek through the crack.
“Shit!” I grimace, covering my ears as the piercing sound of Satan’s symphony fills the air again.
Snatching my handbag off the floor, I make my way downstairs. My ears get a reprieve as it’s now quiet again. On his hands and knees, Theo arranges tile on the floor like he’s piecing together a puzzle. He looks up, sweat dripping down his face, disappearing into his bronzy beard. It’s a shame he feels the need to taint his beautiful face with such a narrow-eyed glare. Behind him, out on the porch, there’s a saw. That explains the horrific noise.
“I’m going to a supermarket. I’ll replace your apple even though your manners are anything but those of a southern gentleman. What are the chances that you wash your hands after using the bathroom?”
He resumes his puzzle like I’m not here.
“Is there a supermarket or even a green-grocer in walking distance?”
“It closes in fifteen minutes.”
Nibbling on the inside of my lip, I nod. It’s apparently after 8:30 p.m., not a.m. “Where’s the phone? I’ll call a taxi.”
Plucking the pencil behind his ear, Theo makes a small mark on the tile. “How the hell should I know where you put your phone?” Without looking at me, he stands and walks out back to the saw.
I plug my ears as he makes a cut. “Not my mobile…” I say when he comes back inside “…the house phone.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He fits the newly cut piece into its spot.
“You know. The kind that plugs into a phone socket in the wall.”
“They don’t have cell phones in the land of kings and queens?”
Why does he look at me like I’m the stupid one? If I had a computer I’d drain half of his savings and donate it to the Queen of England’s favorite charity to teach the dumb arse a lesson in manners. But I don’t have one.
I don’t have a mobile.
I don’t have a television.
I don’t have any access to anywhere but my new little island.
This is my life now. I didn’t exactly choose it, but I’ve chosen what to do with it for the next six months and it doesn’t involve electronics.
“You could have said you only have a mobile. I’ll pick up a landline phone tomorrow. Can I borrow your mobile to call a taxi?”
“No.”
“No? Are you serious?”
Grabbing another tile from the box, he positions it on the floor.
I sigh. “I’m hungry. Is there someplace in walking distance I can get some food?”
Have I really ruined his entire life by being here? How can he be so rude as to not even answer me? He’s taking all the fun out of my growing addiction to his madness. There’s food in the fridge and probably some in the pantry. I’m not in the mood to explore Tybee Island for the first time, in the dark, by myself. I’ll save that adventure for another night when Mr. Reed isn’t here to entertain me. But… I’m so hungry.
Banana.
Three bananas on the worktop call to me. My eyes dart between Mr. Huffy, the bananas, and the stairs. It’s possible the apple incident was a rare moment of madness. Maybe he was in an off mood earlier. There really has to be a logical explanation for attacking me the way he did overan apple. I should just ask.Hey, mind if I have one of those bananas? I’ll replace it tomorrow.
If I ask and he says no, then what?
