6:59. Elva sat with the chair between the door and the phone.  If Joanie was somehow let in the building by someone else- she would come through the front door.  If she needed to be let in, she would call.

7:02. “A father kills his three kids and his wife.” The yellow of the Univision logo slightly reflected off the linoleum floors, which were greyed now without any replacement by the HOA building maintenance.  Still the Univision moved off the small miniature statues as well as the twelve prescription bottles on the table.

7:08.  Univision news rose louder. “El nino tiene 18 anos, y no se puede encontrarlo.” They still couldn’t find the young autistic boy who has gone missing. Sometimes she dreamt of him.  His face replaced that of the photo of her mother on the bedroom wall. She didn’t recall Joanie being this late before.

Who would take this poor boy? Joanie said it had to be revenge since the boy’s father was a cop.  It’s horrible, so horrible.

Suddenly, the loud tone of the phone silenced the news.  Joanie had helped Elva set the phone, her first morning as her aide.

“Hola Elva! Aqui estoy! I’m sorry for the lateness as usual.” The buzz of the door speaker broke up her words, and Elva put them back together.

This entry was published on November 29, 2013 at 7:38 am and is filed under Fiction Writing by Jessie. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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