“OK, then,” he said and took hold of the handle on his suitcase. He started dragging it toward the smallest house, a bungalow with weathered pink walls. He trenched a line halfway there before turning to the largest of the three houses, a two-story cottage with a visible cistern on the roof. It had a much more inviting front facing the beach, bay windows and a raised patio. He walked over and looked through the glass at plush sofas, polished wood tables and a large flat screen TV. He pulled out the key ring, found the right key, opened the door and stepped inside. He let the door swing shut behind him and the breath of the wind vanished and the ocean noises muffled as if he had put cups over his ears. The house’s insulation was so effective that he could actually hear the blood pumping through his ears along with his own breathing.
“Hello?” He called out toward a central staircase. He waited a long time. “Hello! I’m the caretaker, Edward!”
He looked around the living room, feeling like he was trespassing in a stranger’s house. He made his way up the stairs to the second floor and looked into each room. Heavy wood furniture occupied all four bedrooms, mahogany dressers, carved four-post bed frames, and antique chairs. Surfaces were bare except for lamps and some miscellaneous décor, vases and candles in holders. Edward pulled open drawers and cabinets as he explored. All were empty.
There were paintings, of course, set in gilded wood frames. Edward gave the artwork a summary critique, determining them to be of craft fair quality, worthy of a hotel, probably turned out by retirees taking community art classes. It was clear someone had chosen the paintings because of their subject. He lingered in front of one fake Gauguin: the nude woman lying on her stomach, an old woman seated nearby. The reproduction was abhorrent, lacking the original’s color and brush strength. But of course Tahiti – where Gauguin had done his most famous work – is an island so they needed to hang pictures of islands in a house on an island. Edward groaned, sure that the antique frames were worth more than the paintings.
He walked down and into the most impressive room of the house where stainless steel pots and pans hung over a massive center stovetop. The kitchen pantry and wide fridge were stocked with canned foods, condiments and Mexican beer. Edward pulled out a bottle, ambled into the living room and fell back onto the larger of the two sofas. He pulled the duties booklet out of his back pocket and opened it.
DUTIES FOR PROPERTY CARETAKER
Lot 17, Deadman Bay, Peter Island, British Virgin Islands
…
1.3 Property caretaker will be allowed accommodations in guesthouse located on east side of property. At no time shall caretaker stay in master house one (4 bedroom) or master house two(3 bedroom). At no time will Property Caretaker remove supplies from these houses.
~~4~~
The first problem was taking care of the stench of rotten wood and mildew that permeated his house. The studio bedroom was as big as the smallest bedroom in the main house, but contained everything he needed. There was an old CRT TV, bed, desk and mounted air conditioner set into a slot in the wall next to the window. The kitchen was nothing but a narrow strip, wood cabinets, massive sink, and ugly green linoleum floor. He found he could easily touch both sides with his arms outstretched. The bathroom was the nicest room, newly remodeled and with a large tub that was twice as big as the one in his old apartment.
As soon as he had finished familiarizing himself with the place, he opened the kitchen and bedroom windows. He turned on the AC to see if that would help dry out the air. Next, he retrieved the boxes of groceries off the pier. He found the TV remote and flipped through a hundred channels, leaving it on one station playing Reggae music while he unpacked and put things away.
His next problem was reconnecting to civilization. He took out his laptop, setting it on the desk, found an internet wire and plugged in, and then switched it on. Seconds later, it gave a beep and showed a message asking him if he wanted to approve of the new network connection.
“Hell yes!” He started a browser to check if he was really online, and then looked up to thank the gods of technology. He got busy emailing a few friends, checked his favorite news and forum sites, and then followed a link about one annoying classmate’s exhibit. The man’s name was Alex Turk. Edward always called him Turk because he knew Alex hated it. Edward read all the posts by Turk and grew more annoyed. Turk had always been a lackey, always getting the teacher involved in his work. In the forum, Turk bragged about working on his material seven days a week for months and now it was in his big opening. Edward hated Turk. His only comfort was that the opening was at the Meade Gallery, a cheap, hollowed-out warehouse located in South Bronx with painted-over cement and exposed piping, and promiscuously offered to the first artist who scheduled it.
After emailing one friend who had moved to California, he chatted with another on the school board for thirty minutes. Later, when he was hungry, he made Hamburger Helper, and ate it while playing his favorite online fantasy game, letting the dirty dishes sit in the sink. At some point when it was completely black outside the window, he felt tired enough to sleep. He locked the door, turned off the TV and lay in bed for forty minutes, staring up at the ceiling. After that he turned on the TV and was asleep in five minutes.
~~5~~
The cough didn’t leave him for an hour after waking. Leaving the AC on all night had cleared away the smells, but had also dried out his throat. He thought he had a cold until he drank some warm water and the painful hoarseness subsided.
Ms. Sarah had supplied him with plenty of food. The fridge and cabinets were stocked full after he unloaded the boxes. There had been canned tomato sauce, spaghetti and rigatoni pastas, more Hamburger Helper, carrots, onions, canned corn and a jar of strange paste that looked like dirt in the first box. The next one had bags of rice and four dozen brown eggs. The third box contained cans of soda, powdered lemonade, pancake mix and syrup, Caribbean hot sauce and dried beans. He took inventory of his stocks, visualizing some of the meals he would make, did the dishes and made breakfast – a big brunch with three eggs and pancakes. It was eleven o’clock when he finished eating and too hot to go outside. He found a glass jug and used this to make lemonade, putting it in the fridge to cool. He cleaned and filled two ice cube trays for the freezer. Then he lay down on the bed and watched TV, occasionally picking up the opened duties booklet.
DUTIES FOR PROPERTY CARETAKER
Lot 17, Deadman Bay, Peter Island, British Virgin Islands
…
3.2 Caretaker will attempt to fix house problems when he or she finds them using the supplied tools. If caretaker is unable to fix problem, he or she will report the issue to property agency.
3.3 Caretaker will warn off trespassers. No one, besides authorized guests, will be allowed into the two master houses or onto property. The front beach property begins above where tide reaches. The back property is marked by cement blocks placed at the corners of the property. If trespassers do not obey, caretaker will inform police. Dial 999 on the telephone to contact the police.
…
Blah, blah, blah. Edward looked up at the TV. He reached for the remote, knocking the booklet off the bed, and thumbed through channels advertising tourist excursions, restaurants and resort hotels. He stopped on a show with scuba divers floating over coral and between massive underwater boulders. The camera chased parrotfish, grunts and triggerfish, while a narrator described them in their colorful details. Psychedelic blue tang and filefish rested beside sea fans, schools of silver chub scattered over turtle grass and a white sand seafloor while small sharks meandered overhead.