Rabbits in the Garden

Bach's Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Major, Allegro Assai

The next day was not luckier. At least, that is, considering everything that happened.

Marc woke up early that morning and quickly made this way down to Newton. His father had hitched up an old guest box spring to his hatchback, and tossed an odd-looking bag in the back, saying it would "help with moving". The trailer rattled ominously behind Marc as he drove over the pothole-ridden highway. That was his last night staying at his parents' place. Marc knew before anything else that day, he had to buy a mattress.

The weather was a bit better than yesterday; the rain was lighter, and was frequently interrupted by surprisingly warm sunlight. The morning had a glow about it, casting a dramatic chiaroscuro against the shade trees. Even the air had the slight smell of cool rain that had been warmed by the asphalt. Marc had mixed feelings about this. He was by no means a man who enjoyed heat. However, he couldn't deny that the way the world seemed to come alive in the spring was very inspiring.

He thought to himself as he searched for mattress stores that it might be a good idea to practice outside today.

A little further into town than he would have hoped, he found a building that was marked clear enough as a mattress store for Marc to feel comfortable approaching. It was odd to him, buying new. He rocked his encumbered vehicle slowly into the tidy parking lot. Thankfully, it seemed to have a sensible amount of room to accommodate the trailer. Distant thunder placed more seeds of worry into Marc's mind as he stepped out, but the sky above him was at least temporarily clear.

As he peeked his head into the store, two women greeted him from either direction. He shrank his head into his raincoat collar and gave a small, upset-looking wave. They gave a strange look upon seeing him, one looking surprised while the other, almost worried. Eventually they turned back to their work, much to Marc's relief. A tension found its way up his neck and his ears grew hot.

What was that about?

He put his mind back to the task at hand. He needed a full size mattress, nothing else. It took a moment to understand the organizational pattern of this store, but eventually he found an area that looked promising. He was a bit nearer to the women from here, and he could pick up whispered conversation. He tried not to listen. That is, until two words caught Marc's full attention:

"Heath Street."

That was the street his new store was on.

His face flickered up toward them before quickly ducking down once more. The whispers ceased. It was too late, they had seen. Slowly they began whispering again, this time much quieter, and presumably more coded. He couldn't tell, he could no longer make out a word of it.

Sullenly he continued to shop. However, once he found a suitably well-made but inexpensive mattress, he hesitated to call anyone over. What could they have to talk about regarding Heath St? Was it about him? Then again, was it vain to assume that? He thought back to what Pearl had said. "I was worried after what I'd heard."

What did she hear?

"Sir, do you need me to ring you up?"

Marc was startled from his anxious descent by one of the cashiers.

"Uh, yes please." He gestured to the mattress he had selected. The smartly-dressed woman rushed over, punching buttons on her handheld device.

"The Restnest Repose? Hm."

She read something on her device, then frowned over her glasses at him. "That's a pretty good style if you're looking for something... cost effective."

She brushed a bit of invisible something off the surface of the mattress. "How do you sleep? Any back pain in the mornings?" Her eyes were searching his, making him feel even more on edge. He shook his head no.