Touch

Chapter 2

            The next morning, I am torn not in two, but in infinite parts.  I am disturbed by what happened in my own home, yet I wonder what could have possible provoked it.  I am a middle-aged, middle-class, blind man living by himself with the occasional visit of a caretaker and even rarer ones by family and friends.  As I sit in my recliner, my hand hovers over my landline.  I should alert the authorities and report, but I am unable to overcome the shame.  Eventually, after it goes numb, I lay my hand over my lap.  It will go away in time.  Everyone in the neighborhood has a security system and usually locks their doors.  They are more than safe.

            I jump in fright when the front door opens, but I calm myself as soon as it happens as I remember those footsteps.  It will take time for the aftereffects to fade.

            "Good morning, Mr. Evanson," a cheery voice greets.

            I smile and warmly welcome, "Hello Susan.  What's the word?"

            My caretaker, Susan Durham, a woman with a youthful, plump, round face, button nose, and large eyes, brightens my day as she giggly informs me, “The Acker family is back!”

            “Oh, is there a particular reason?”  I question.  A family would not take all the time, energy, and money to move for nothing.  The Acker family especially as they left under special circumstances.

            “Well, the father is transferring back and the son wants to attend college here.  They even bought their old house back.  Isn’t it great?”  Susan squeals in delight.  She can have pleasant voice, but sometimes it becomes very high pitch and after a few years, it has become very annoying.

            “Very,” I concur with a slight smile.

            Though the return of Acker family does bring me happiness, it also gives the polar opposite emotion of sadness.  Six long years have passed.  He has surely forgotten me.

            “They are visiting the neighbors, so they should be here eventually,” Susan informs.

            I smile to show my happiness.

            "Today is Tuesday, correct?"  I inquire.

            "Sure is," Susan replies.

            Every Tuesday Susan helps me shop at the local, family owned grocery store.  My lifestyle does not require weekly grocery shopping, but it allows me a short period to socialize with the community.

            I inform her of the things to write on the grocery list while I feel around for my slippers.  We should be back before the Ackers arrive.  Maybe I can ask Susan to help pick out a housewarming gift.

 

            When we return, I detect a few new people at the house.  I hear a woman chatting with my neighbor, Lynette Pegrew.  The woman's voice is melodic and feminine, but not a squealing high-pitch like Susan’s, bless my little caretaker's soul.  The name that goes with that voice is instantly conjured up in my mind: Lisa Acker, a tall, slender woman with a long face, expressive eyes, and always-smiling lips.

            “Hello Peter!” she exclaims. 

The next thing I feel is her hugging me tight.  She was always an energetic, friendly person.  It seems that has not changed.  I softly return the embrace.  Despite her height, she has a very delicate frame, similar to her husband's lanky stature.  I am almost afraid I will break her.

            “It is so good to see you.  You were always so kind to the family,” she warmly states.

            “Thank you,” in the same temperature I reply.

            She stands back.  “Better get out of the way for my son,” she laughs.

            After she says that, I am almost knocked down by a solid body.  The person’s tight, overabundant hug is the only things keeping me upright.

            “Peter!”  I hear a squeal.

            “Caden,” I uncertainly say.  How could he have gotten so big?  I can feel compact muscles, yet still contains the willowy Acker characteristic.  There is also his height.  My head is cradled under his chin, yet he remains flatfooted.  I am too shocked by his new appearance that I am speechless.

            “Yep,” he replies.  He removes his body and declares, “I’ve missed you so much!”

            “You weren’t able to see him last night?” his mother asks with concern.

            “Nah, one of my old classmates saw me and wanted to talk and by the time we were done it was too dark,” Caden explains.  However, he gleefully avows, mostly to me.  “But I’ll be sure to visit today.”

            I am glad to hear that Caden still remembers me, but I do not want to take up too much of his time.  “I would enjoy that very much, but I’m sure that you have much unpacking-“

            Caden interrupts me.  “No, we are almost done.  You are more important anyway!”

            I warmly chuckle.  “Then I will see you later.”  In a more serious tone I add, “Be safe.  I heard there have been several burglaries around.”

            Though it would have been a pleasant surprise, I am relieved that Caden was not able to visit me last night.  If that rapist had laid one finger on Caden, I would have killed the man with my bare hands.  There have been no burglaries in the area, and if there were, they were to minor to arouse any level of alertness in the community.  It is just a white lie to keep the Ackers on alert.  The rapist might use their venerable time of moving to attack.  I would never wish any of them, or anyone for that matter, to go through what I am now.

            “Okay, Mr. Evanson,” Caden chuckles as he replies.  "I'll be safe."

            Being called “Mr. Evanson” by such a youthful voice brings back warm memories.

A/N:  Thank you for the ratings and reviews!