You Shouldn't Have Come Here



The bathroom door was open. Empty. Albert’s room was the same. That left two rooms—the room she had stayed in and my bedroom. Both doors were closed. I went to the guest room first and, rather than opening it, I simply turned the lock. If she was in there, she’d stay in there until I said otherwise. I walked to the end of the hall where my bedroom was, the last one on the left. As I put my hand on the door handle, I felt a wave of dizziness come over me. I rubbed my forehead and patted my cheeks, immediately regretting getting into the bottle of whiskey last night. Turning the handle, I threw the door open. There she was, my amazing Grace, standing in the corner, holding my knife. She must have found it when she was snooping around the basement. Such a naughty guest. The sun seeped through the window and hit the blade, making it shimmer. What separated me from her was my king bed and a desk off to the side with my computer. Grace held the blade out steadily. Her blue, blue eyes fixated on me.

“Oh, you want to take this to the bedroom?” I chuckled. “I knew you were an easy lay but this takes the cake, Miss Grace.”

I took another step toward her. Her knuckles were white from gripping the handle of the knife so tightly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said.

That dizzy feeling hit me again, causing me to stumble to the side. I caught myself on the desk and stood upright. Why had I drunk so much last night? I knew I had a big day ahead of me. The room began to spin like I was on a merry-go-round. Grace was at the center of it, still and beautiful and unmoved by what I was going through.

“You’re the one that shouldn’t have come here, Calvin,” she said.

The room spun faster and faster, and no matter how fast it spun, everything was a blur but Grace. I wanted to close my eyes and never open them again, but I forced them though they begged to be closed. I fell to the bed, rolling onto my back. My head spun. And then I felt like I was floating, just above myself, just enough to see nearly everything . . . everything but Grace.

“What’s happening to me?” I yelled. I tried to bring my hand to my head but I felt paralyzed. The only thing I could do was blink and look up at that popcorn ceiling. The ceiling fan spun ’round and ’round, much slower than the rest of the room.

Her one heel clicked against the floor, and then she was standing over me. Her eyes stared into mine. I tried to swing my arm at her but I couldn’t pick it off of my chest. My other arm laid by my side, stuck, like concrete had been poured around it. Grace pressed the tip of the knife against her finger and twirled it like she was taunting me.

“What did you do to me?” I asked.

“A little of this. A little of that.”

My heartbeat pulsated in my feet, my neck, my arms. It was usually steady but now it raced.

“Is this about that goddamn missing bitch?” I spit.

“Is she here?” Grace tilted her head.

My eyelids so badly wanted to close. Tears streamed from the corners of them, slithering down the sides of my face. I struggled again to move my arms and legs. Nothing.

“Yes.” Even speaking became a chore, every muscle in my body seizing up, useless.

“Is she alive?”

“I think so.”

Grace nodded.

“Did you really think you’d be able to keep me here?” she asked.

“Just . . . stupid bitch.”

“That’s not very nice, Calvin. You shouldn’t call people names.” She raised the knife above her head.

“Please . . . no,” I begged. “Just call the police. The girl is . . . in . . . a shed . . . the woods. Forty yards . . . behind the apiary.”

She tilted her head to the other side. “Did you kill Albert?”

“No.” I panted. “That bitch . . . was . . . hollering and . . . Albert’s drunk ass . . . must . . . have heard it. He stumbled right . . . into the bees.”

Grace brought the knife to her side and glanced out the window, taking in the scenery while she twirled the weapon in her hand. I tried to move again, but I had no control of my body. It was like I had been dipped into a pool of quicksand. I wasn’t sure what she would do. She seemed conflicted about calling the police. But why?

Grace’s eyes scanned my body.

“Are you going to call them or not?” I forced the words out all at once.

“No cell phone service,” she said.

I tried to point at the computer but I couldn’t. I sucked in a gulp of air. “The computer. There’s a Wi-Fi router beside it. Just plug it in.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You lied about the Wi-Fi too?” Grace walked to the desk and pulled out the chair, taking a seat. One movement of the mouse made the screen turn on. I strained to see what she was doing. I knew my Airbnb account was pulled up because it was the last thing I looked at to confirm my next guest’s arrival in a few days.

“Review guest. Don’t mind if I do,” she said with a devious smile. She placed her fingers on the keyboard and typed away, reading aloud the words, “Grace was a terrific guest. She’s welcome back anytime.”

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled and then gasped for air.

She dramatically clicked the mouse. “Rating: five stars.”

“I have to know,” Grace said, standing from her seat. “Because it’s been bothering me. What really happened the night Lisa died?”

I sighed. “Will you call the police if I tell you?”

“Sure.”

I took several deep breaths.

My eyes closed for a moment and the memory flashed across the back of my lids like a movie in a dark theater.

Lisa sat in the passenger seat beside me while I drove Joe’s truck on the black twisting road. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the moon and the vehicle’s headlights. I couldn’t tell if the rumbling was coming from the truck or Joe asleep in the back seat, snoring away. She glanced over at me and smiled. Her hair was full of blond ringlets and her eyes were green like emeralds. The evening was perfect until it wasn’t anymore.

“Calvin, I’m leaving next week,” she said shakily.

“What do you mean?” I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I kept looking over at her.

“My assignment is over.”

“I thought you extended it already.” I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Lisa tilted her head. “I tried. But they don’t need me anymore, so I accepted a temporary nursing position in Alaska. I start next week.”

“You didn’t even talk to me about this,” I yelled.

She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m talking to you right now.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just telling me how it’s going to be.” I flicked her hand off and shoved her back.

“Calvin,” she nearly cried. “This doesn’t have to be the end for us.”

I saw red and pressed down on the gas pedal. The truck sped up from forty to forty-five.

“Yes, it does,” I said.

“Slow down, Calvin,” Lisa begged.

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