The Spice Rack, Page 2

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  After three months with his sister’s kids, Harry was ready to go back home, even if he found that it had burned down in his absence. He made up excuses for staying late at work and did everything in his power to spend as little time as possible at what he came to regard as the “zoo.”

  The final straw had been when he discovered that his three year old niece had mistaken his brand new Ipad for a peanut butter and jelly finger-painting canvas. It might not have been so bad if she wouldn’t have later attempted to clean the unrecognizable mess in her bath water.

  As Harry drove towards his house, he recalled his discovery of the food towers with a sickening feeling of dismay. After a desperate call to his sister to arrange for temporary quarters, he set to work frantically loading all of the stacked food into cardboard bins and trash bags. When this task was done, he called his uncle who owned a roofing company, and asked him if he could swing by in his dump truck to pick up the load the next time he was on his way out to the landfill. An agreement was reached, and Harry began staying at his sister’s chaotic household that very night. He kept his distance from his own home completely for a week, but necessity eventually won out despite his misgivings and he returned to collect some needed items.

  Having made the decision to return home, Harry mentally prepared himself to be ready for anything. Since leaving, he had been in and out of the house frequently and had not noticed anything amiss. He hoped that whoever had been harassing him had given up after such a long absence, but he was also trying not to fool himself.

  He finally arrived, and once inside, he did a quick scan of the rooms to make sure that everything was in order. Everything was just as he had left it, except for the boxes of food left in the kitchen; his uncle had done as he asked. Despite these reassurances, Harry felt restless. He paced around, checking windows and doors that he had already seen to. It was starting to get late and he needed to be up early the next morning for a very important meeting. He knew beforehand that it might be difficult for him to sleep, so he stole some of his sister’s sleeping pills before he left. Humming nervously to himself, he popped three of the pills as he was walking through the kitchen. Once again, the spice rack caught his eye and he stopped walking to examine it. The jars were empty and squeaky clean. Hadn’t they been filled with canned food?

  Immediately his heart began to pound and he swallowed loudly. He turned in a slow circle to survey his surroundings and wondered what new mischief he was in for. Eyeing the fridge, he stopped turning and pulled the door open. It wasn’t empty as it should have been. Holding the door open, he picked up a container of milk and shook it. Empty. Bending down to peer inside, he could see empty glass jars from pickles, mayo, and other foods sparkling in the light, as if someone had emptied the contents and then polished the glass to a shine afterwards. It was the same story with the cupboards. Neatly arranged boxes of Hamburger Helper, instant rice, macaroni and cheese, and cereal stood just as he had left them before any of this had begun. All boxes were empty. He did not even want to think about where the food was. But hadn’t all of this been taken away months ago? Was he seriously being haunted and harassed by his own edibles? Harry snapped open his cell phone and dialed his uncle’s business line.

  “Hello?” Dave answered.

  “Hi Dave, its Harry. I was just wondering…. Do you remember when you came and picked up the boxes and things from my house?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well… how did that go?”

  “Didn’t go at all. I got that note you left me.” Harry paused. Note? He cleared his throat and started again.

  “What did the note say?”

  “Well, you wrote it, didn’t you?”

  “What did it say?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, its been months now. Something about you changing your mind and taking care of the boxes yourself, telling me to keep the $60 you gave me and….” he trailed off and then coughed uncomfortably, “… and then there was that thing about posies.”

  “The note mentioned posies? In what context?”

  “At the bottom, in girly lettering, it said `I love posies,` and there was a little heart above the `i,` just like a little girl would do. You know the kind. Can’t say as I really knew what you were getting at,” he finished.

  “Umm, ok. Thanks Dave,” he stammered and hung up. He could feel the corner of his mouth twitching as the information settled in. Lost in his thoughts, he absently looked up at the clock and realized that it was 11pm. He groaned when he thought of how early he needed to be up for the meeting and it was too late to get a motel room. A subtle wave of dizziness hit him and he remembered that he had taken the sleeping pills earlier. It surprised him that they had started to have an effect so quickly.

  All he could do at this point was get ready for bed, go to the meeting in the morning, and then put the house up for sale. It was no longer even in option in his mind, and the knowledge that he would be quitting the place made him feel better.

  Harry headed to the thermostat and adjusted the setting to a nippy 55 degrees. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, he scampered up the stairs to his bedroom. It usually cost him a fortune, but he loved the feeling of being snuggled down in a warm and cozy bed with chilly air on the outside. He lifted the blankets and slid in quickly, just as he was beginning to feel the cold air blowing in through the vents. Half way in, he felt it. He sucked in his breath and shifted in confusion. Under the blankets, his bed was cold, squishy, and wet. Just before he launched out of the bed as if something had bit him, he felt something thick and gooey between his toes.

  “Yuuugh!” he yelled

  Ripping the covers back, Harry realized where all the food in the house had gone. The mess before him made him want to vomit. Green beans, rice, mayonaisse, syrup, peanut butter, uncooked pasta, an old leftover piece of pizza from who knows how long ago…. It was all slopped into a terrible stew on his $2000 mattress. His legs up to his waist were covered in it, and he was starting to shiver in the cold room. Disgusted, he got into the shower and rinsed off. By the time he got out, he was so drowsy that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold his head up any longer.

  Wet and naked, Harry stumbled down the stairs and curled up on the couch for the night.