S.O.S.

I spent my time after work, not at the 'Home for the Hopeful', but in the barren house, taking the tacks out of faded polaroids, putting the pictures in boxes, and the boxes in the attic.

I'm not going to lie, I didn't feel bad about not going, no. She never remembered that I had come, and she didn't recognise the passage of time other than her medications. I figured when I next went, she'd think it was my regular daily visit, and wouldn't suspect any days missing.

By the time lunch time had rolled by, the walls were bare, all the photos down, tacks in jars on the counter, and boxes pushed to the far reaches of the dark attic. I had eaten, and then continued with the task of the walls. I filled in any holes, and dents, getting ready to paint over the damn light peach color of the walls. Maybe a beige, beige goes with almost everything.

I lifted the roller to the wall in the dining room, pushing it against the wall and rolling it around. the tarps crinkled under my feet, and tap at the edges letting out no air. The music flowing through the house was loud, the neighbors could probably hear it, they could probably hear me singing at the top of my lungs too.

All the windows were open, giving me a nice breeze throughout the halls and rooms. The smell of paint was strong, almost gaggingly so.

"Hello?" A voice called. "You left your door open."

"I am well aware I left the door open, but there's also a doorbell right next to the open door." I rubbed my hands on the rag, staring down at the paint on my hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't ring the doorbell, should I go back and try again?"

"Excuse me, you're in my house, so don't you get sassy with me." I glard up at the girl standing in front of me. Her arms were crossed.

"Sorry, but that was unnecessary."

"What do you want, anyway?" I threw the rag on my shoulder, brushing my shirt.

"I could smell the paint, and I came over to see if you needed help or anything. Do you need lunch, or -" She waved her hands.

"I actually already had lunch, but if you wanted to help?" I looked around. "I still have to do the living room, and those, and my bedroom, the kitchen-"

"I'll go change into something paintable, and I'll be back over for instructions." She grinned, running out the door.

I wasn't entirely sure when she came back, or when we stopped. I also wasn't clear about when she came back with dinner, or when she left. I'm not sure what exactly we talked about, what songs we sang along too, how many times we bumped hips, why she hugged me before she left for the night, or why I hugged back.

Samantha insisted she'd be back next weekend to help paint some more.

I drove back to 'Home for the Hopeful' after Sam had left.

April was happy to see me, and just as I had suspected, she didn't know I hadn't visited her in days.

Notes