Rhonda Belt

The Task


After exactly two and a half rings, Myra picked up the phone, wiped it with an alcohol pad, and announced, "Davis residence. Mrs. Davis speaking."

"Hi, honey. It's me. Don't have time to talk. Find my winter coat in the attic trunk and take it to the cleaners. Gotta go. Bye."

Before placing the receiver back in the cradle, she disinfected it again. Her hands shook. How could he possibly ask her to do such a thing? At the kitchen sink, she scrubbed her hands and forearms and dried each finger without leaving a trace of water. Always one to think ahead, she shoved an inhaler and a pair of latex gloves into her pocket, knowing the attic would be dirty.

Myra inched her way to the attic door. She had to do this for Walter because she didn't want to be the source of his yelling. He never understood. The door creaked open and gooseflesh rose on her arms. She placed her right foot on the first step, counting off each squeaky step of her ascent. The closer to the top, the more nauseated she felt. With a jump, she skipped the thirteenth step and landed on the dusty attic floor. She snatched the inhaler from her pocket and puffed. It slipped from her moist hands and dropped onto the floor. It'd have to be sanitized.

Dust and cobwebs owned the room. The trunk, on the far side, might as well have been on Pluto. She sprinted to the wooden box scanning every shadowed area like a cat on the prowl. Snap! A barrier of latex gloves encased and protected her hands. The trunk lid opened with ease. As she reached for the coat, she froze. A mouse sat atop the coat, beady eyes locked with hers. A horrified scream sent the gray ball of fur scurrying away through a hole at the trunk base. Myra fell backwards against a full-length mirror sending it into shards across the floor.

She scrambled up, tore off the gloves in her flight down the stairs, and seized the phone punching speed dial.

"Mr. Davis isn't in right now. May I take a message?"

She hung up the phone, sat on the couch, and clicked the remote control. Walter would have to get his own coat.

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