THE LANDLADY by Jay Jay.

HERMIT.

Next morning, Dean slept in way longer than he had intended. The bed was so comfortable. But eventually, he had another shower, dressed in some clothes he found in the wardrobe, almost his size, a bit loose if anything, and investigated the contents of the pantry and fridge. There was fresh milk and cereal, and plenty of tea and coffee. The old broad was sure looking after him so far. He wondered if he was allowed to leave to go shopping, or if someone would bring supplies to him? Did he get a day off? Ah, think about those details later. For now he was grateful to live in the moment, his situation had improved immeasurably, after all.

There was a T.V. He caught up on the news, something he hadn't been aware of for months. Nothing much changed, wars continued, polititians were still corrupt, murders and crime continued.

Was there any booze? Not obvious. Dean hoped there was none, he didn't think he was an addict, but when things were bad, he had hit the bottle and it helped him find his way to living on the street. He didn't want that temptation.

He wandered outside a bit. The grounds were beautiful, like living in a huge park. He could explore it later. He better find the hermit robes, in case Mrs Jones came by.

The robes were long and grey, with a cord to pull them tight. He got them on just as the bell rang. O.K. Action time!

He had a quick look for some clods of earth and piled them in front of the folly. Then he hid behind one of the columns and waited.

Mrs Jones appeared, with three people, two men and a woman. Dean stared. Even from a good way off, the three people looked freakier and more scary than he would ever be in his hermit role. They had skin whiter than snow. The men had bald heads, the woman flaming orange hair that went to her waist. All four of them, Mrs Jones included, had black eyes that seemed to suck Dean's eyeballs towards them, a weird sensation he couldn't explain. 

Suddenly, it was just a group of four ordinary people, with normal skin and hair and eyes, heck, the tallest man was black, not pasty white! Four normal people coming for a stroll towards the folly.

Dean shook his head, remembered what he was meant to do. Thus, feeling like an idiot, he started up his act. 

Hooting and clapping, he capered clumsily up and down in front of the folly, long robes threatening to trip him up. He screamed and yelled at the people, who watched him with amusement. He threw his clods of earth, laughing, they threw some back. He kept it up until he was panting with exertion. 

Mrs Jones suddenly yelled out "EXCELLENT! Very fine performance! Don't you agree?"

The four of them clapped. Dean gave them a huge bow.

"He will do very well," the taller man said.

"I certainly enjoyed the performance," the woman said. "Keep up the standard, Dean, I intend to bring my friends by for the fun."

"Yes, keep up the good work. If you slack off, we might have to eat you," the short man sniggered.

"Never mind him, I'm the one who employed you," Mrs Jones said.  "Now, I never went over the rules, did I? "

"No," Dean said, feeling apprehensive.

"It's nothing too hard, do not worry. He is a worrier, this one, is he not?" she grinned at the others, who nodded their heads. "I will provide all your food and personal stuff, just tell me what you want. No alcohol, cigarettes or drugs, I do not want them on the premises. If you want to go to the pub on your days off, fine, don't bring it back here. You'll get two weekdays off, usually Monday and Tuesday unless I say otherwise. I ring the bell, you get ready. That could be any time of day or night, so you stay here. If you want to wander around the gardens, put your robes on, then if you do get caught out away from the bell, you can do your act where-ever you happen to be. You do not leave the gardens except on your days off. Most important. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Mrs Jones laughed. "Good. Wonderful first day. Now maybe you can get inventive, vary the routine, surprise me. You think you can?"

"I think so," Dean said.

"Do a good job, there's a good man," the taller man hissed. Suddenly Dean saw them as weird again. Just for a moment.

They left, and Dean hung up the robes, went back to normal clothes. He felt very unbalanced. But, on the whole, it was still better than living on the streets. 

He wouldn't complain.