The Lamplighters

Chapter Five

All the way home, Marla had expected a camera crew to jump out on her. Surprise! It was a set-up! There is no job, but you’ve been such a good sport… She leafed through the personality test Welland had given her. Some of the questions were just plain weird, veering randomly from logic puzzles to the somewhat intrusive. Actually, a TV show set-up might be better than all this prying.

As she climbed the stairs back at her building, Marla had an acute sense that something was wrong. Turning the corner into the hallway, she could see why. The door to her room was wide open. She approached the doorway cautiously, gripping Welland’s folder like a shield. Peering into her room, Marla’s heart thumped hard with the expectation that an intruder would be peering back at her. But the room was empty.

Marla checked the door lock. The catch was a little screwy as usual and there was no sign that it had been forced. Must not have closed it properly on her way out for the interview. Jesus, when she wasn’t locking herself out she was having an open house party. She flopped down on the bed and smiled grimly to herself. The room was such a mess anyway it’d look like it had been burgled whether the door was left open or not. Then she froze. Her laptop was gone.

Moments later, Marla found herself banging on the door of the pervert down the hall. She almost had no recollection of walking to his door; the red mist had carried her here. What if it wasn’t him? No. If anyone was going to mess with her things, it was that letch. She pummeled harder on the door, nearly falling inside as it opened. His confused face looked out, half in shadow.

“I want my laptop back, now,” spat Marla, harshly.

“Your…what?”

“Don’t feign ignorance with me, Mister. I know you took it, so just give it the hell back.”

She shoved at the door, hard, knocking him back slightly. There was a faint odor coming from inside, like soured buttermilk. Marla didn’t even want to guess where the smell had originated. She did a quick one-eighty of the room. It was immaculately tidy. No laptop. He must’ve stashed it somewhere, or sold it already.

“Where the hell is it?” She was shouting now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you feeling all right?”

Marla’s red mist solidified into a wall of pent-up rage.

“I’ve seen you looking at me. Watching my every move. Perving over me when I locked myself out. Biding your time until…”

“What’s going on here?”

A sharp voice, from up the hall. Brilliant. Marla’s landlady was standing there, fixing her with an angry stare. She opted for a defensive stance, raising her hands in surrender.

“My… my room’s been burgled. My laptop’s gone. I was just asking this guy if he knew anything about it…”

“Accusing me, more like,” he said, indignant.

The landlady cleared her throat. “Mr. James is one of my best, most reliable tenants,” she said. Her voice wobbled with anger, sounding like a detuned radio announcer. “Unlike you, Miss Neuborn, he always pays his rent on time. I was just on my way up here with this.”

She held out Marla’s rent check. The bank had rubber stamped it. The words “REFER TO DRAWER” burned into Marla’s eyes.

“You have two weeks’ notice to vacate your room.”

Marla’s voice dropped to a breathless retort. “But my laptop has been stolen. I…”

“No buts Miss Neuborn. I warned you last time, three strikes and you’re out. This is the third and last time. And if you bother Mr. James again, I’ll be forced to evict you immediately.”

Marla glared at James. He looked as shocked as she did. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned and ran back to her room, slamming the door.

This time it closed properly.