No Strings

CHAPTER 13--WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE BOY?

I was eating my Cheerios as usual and William was staring at me longer than usual. It made me squirm.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

He ate his biscuits with jam. I could hear the happy chirping of sparrows outside. I continued to eat my Cheerios. I played with them so they formed a circle. I picked a few up with my spoon. The milk clung above the edge of the spoon. I put the whole thing in my mouth.

I saw him looking at me again. I felt annoyed. I picked up the bowl with both hands and drank the whole thing down. I chewed on the Cheerios last.

I put the bowl into the sink and washed it and the spoon. I put both of them on the drying rack.

"I'm going now."

"OK," he said. He finished his biscuits and jam.

I paused in the kitchen doorway, "I saw the plane tickets. You're going to Florida?"

"Some idiot built the laundry room two inches too small so I have to fix the problem because the washer and dryer for the apartment complex doesn't fit anymore."

I looked back. "You're not the Project Manager?"

He shook his head and put his plate and cup into the sink.

"Not this one. I don't like doing apartments. The majority of the projects I like to handle are restoration projects. I'm a substitute. I'm going with a supervisor.

"The civil engineer has some complaints and the architect whose working on the project is ill right now. He has a high fever and can't stand up straight. This project has been nicknamed the Third Reich in the office."

"So they handed it to you?"

"It shouldn't be too difficult. I did take some engineering classes."

Whatever he'd been staring at me for had passed. I decided to take a shower. Before I left, I looked in the mirror and saw nothing wrong with my face. I went to work. Whatever it was, it was a passing thing.

***

Richard, my ever-loving boss, slapped a notice on my desk that there was a chance at a promotion. He'd known for years I'd wanted to get out of administration. Bi-annually our company would give a chance at a promotion--or in my case a slight demotion.

"Here," he said slapping the notice on my desk. "Tell everyone."

I pressed the button on the intercom as commanded. I read the notice.

"Maybe you'll get a new smaller desk this time," my boss teased.

He didn't want to lose me as a secretary. Even with the work I'd put into night school getting a degree in advertising, he didn't want to think about it.

I debated telling William, but it wasn't his business to know. Besides which he'd been watching more movies with me as of late. It was creeping me out.

***

William was still acting strange. He wasn't eating his popcorn in the usual way. Maybe I was obsessing, but something felt wrong. I bit my lower lip and said, "When are you going to Florida?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh."

"Yeah. A pain, I know."

I stared at the movie, Karate Kid. Morita's character was off screen and had left a note for "Daniel-san" to paint the fence up and down. I kind of missed him. I was sad to hear when he died.

Maybe William knew--like the way the next scene would show him sanding the deck and getting frustrated. Perhaps William's instincts were fine-tuned to me such that he knew my boss had told me about the possible opportunity to break in. Now that was true paranoia.

I couldn't stand it. I asked him, "I know you're dying to say something... What is it?"

He looked at me. "How much stress are you under?"

I wiped my eyes. I was paranoid.