The backdoor leads into the kitchen and everything feels backwards. The sink is on the wrong side of the room. I fill up my water bottles. The refrigerator opens left- handed, but it is packed. From the top drawer, I pull out Ziploc bags of lunch meat and stuff pieces of shaved ham and slices of salami into my mouth. I put a bag of cheese and one of sliced turkey in my pack with my beers and the drill. On the next shelf is a Tupperware container of mashed potatoes. I scoop out a handful and stuff my hand in my mouth. And again, then smooth the edges down to conceal the tracks of my fingers, snap the lid back down and toss it back onto the shelf. Then I have some leftover spaghetti with zucchini. On the shelf in the door is a gallon jug of milk. I heave it out and drink a few healthy swigs right from the bottle. In the bottom crisper drawer are some apples and oranges, I take some out and put them in my bag. Then I do the same with a loaf of bread out of the freezer. And a package of hot dogs.
|
They have an office set up in the front side bedroom. A digital camera is in a zipper pouch on the shelves next to the computer desk. I take it out and flip it over until I find the little panel to access the memory card and pop it out. With the card in the pouch, and the camera in my backpack, I zip the case closed and put it back on the shelf. I slip around and sit at the desk in the high-back chair. I don't know what the deal is with this family but they sure as hell like plastering photos of themselves all over the place. Another portrait is framed and on the desk next to the monitor. Those girls are younger in this one. The baby is a new born. I open a few of the drawers, but don't see anything worth taking at first. Then underneath some papers is an Ipod. The battery is completely dead. I rub my thumb on the ring on the front and nothing happens. It's mine now.
|
Glacial Pace Press stock photo
|
I follow the rails the rest of the way to the grain elevator. The northbound isn’t here yet. In the bushes I hunker down out of sight and crack open a beer. I half wait for the bull, along with Roosterville’s finest, to come searching for me, and half try to get that image of the happy family out of my head.
|