Walls are Meant for Keeping you out

Grayson Weber lives a life of isolation. He lives alone in a large house that was kept tidy by the maid that would come once a week, Marla Keates. Since seeing Marla was for the most part the only human interaction Grayson could get his hands on, perhaps it was inevitable that he fell in love. 

He fell in love with the way Marla would sing when she got lost in her work. He fell in love with the way she would always tap her foot to an imaginary beat. But most importantly, he fell in love with her thoughts. 

He fell in love with the way they always raced. He fell in love with the way he could tune into them for an hour and be entertained for a week. He fell in love with the true depth of them when he really delved into her mind.

 If Grayson was an addict, his drug would surely be Marla. The best way he could describe her is intoxicating. 

Grayson especially loved when Marla thought about him. There was the typical confusion and curiosity, but there was an astounding level of interest. Whereas most people labeled him as strange, Marla thought he was mysterious. Grayson knew from her thoughts that Marla loved enigmas. 

When Grayson first hired Marla, he would retreat into the shadows and do his best to avoid being seen. But over the course of a few months he has become a little more outgoing, greeting her every time she walked through the door and occasionally exchanging small talk with her. For weeks he has been trying to tell her his feelings, but every time there was something stopping him.

Last week her cat died, and the week before she saw a handsome man on the way over, and the week before that one she was in a bad mood from a fight with her mother. Of course, Marla had never told him any of that. Grayson had to probe her mind to find such information.

Grayson felt sort of bad for invading Marla's thoughts, but he felt justified because he couldn’t control it. In fact, this was why he isolated himself. When there were more than a few people around him, his mind reading threatened to drive him to insanity. The chaos of even one person’s thoughts mixed with his own could be unbearable. 

Marla knocked on the door and Grayson heard it swing open. He left the door unlocked on Mondays out of habit. Grayson took a moment to listen to Marla’s thoughts. He sensed contentment with a hint of excitement. Marla hadn’t had an eventful day.

“Good morning, Miss,” he greeted.

She laughed lightly. “My name is Marla.”

“And mine, Grayson. It’s nice to meet you.”

Grayson extended his arm for a handshake and Marla daintily gripped his hand. But instead of shaking it, Grayson pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. The amount of shock radiating off of Marla was impressive. 

Grayson frowned when the shock turned to unease. “Well, I’ll leave you alone now,” he said making a hasty exit. He retreated into his room and sat down at his desk. 

Grayson’s eyes widened as he picked up Marla’s thoughts of kissing him. Then he smiled as she admonished herself. It was hard for Grayson to hear her thoughts when she started vacuuming. 

Grayson sat back in his chair, thinking of ways to express his feelings for Marla. Maybe he could work up the courage to just kiss her. Actions are easier than words. And they speak louder.

Marla knocked on his door a couple hours later.

“Come in,” he called.

Marla opened the door, duster in hand. Grayson stood up to leave. He picked up on Marla’s nervous excitement, her musings on what he would do next. Grayson walked out the door, placing a hand on Marla’s shoulder as he did so. He felt Marla’s disappointment. 

Marla finished a few hours later, making quick work of the cleaning. It was a large house after all. It seemed like work for a group of people, not just one. 

Grayson would leave a check by the front door for Marla to pick up as she left. Today he left a slip of paper next to it with his telephone number.

When Grayson went downstairs he was shocked to find that Marla had taken the slip of paper. He was even more surprised when he received a call later that day.

“Is there a reason why you gave me your number?” Marla asked after he picked up on the fourth ring.

“I wanted to talk to you. Do you need a better reason?”

She laughed lightly. “No, I think that will suffice.”

“Are you single by any chance?” Grayson asked, nervously, for he couldn’t read her mind with such distance between them.

“I am. I suppose I don’t have to ask you that question. I’ve never seen anyone else around there.”

“Yes it does get rather lonely around here.”

“Then accompany me for some tea?” she offered.

“What day?” Grayson returned.

“I’m rather busy tomorrow. Perhaps Wednesday?”

“Wednesday works for me,” Grayson replied without thinking of the repercussions. 

“See you then.” Marla hung up.

Grayson buried his head in his hands. He knew he shouldn’t go out in public. It’s been several years since his last outing. And he still gets headaches just thinking about it.

But Marla could ask Grayson to jump off a bridge and he might just comply. He didn’t have much else to live for.

Although Grayson doesn’t go out much, he’s fairly good at talking to people. At least he hopes so, what with all the shows and movies he watches. Sometimes Kennedy, his eldest sister, calls him. Sometimes he picks up. When he’s bored. But when is he not bored?

That night Grayson watched a romance film to prepare for his date. He watched another on Tuesday. He even considered calling Kennedy for advice, but he decided against that. It wasn’t like he would be able to confide in her about what was truly bothering him. She probably wouldn’t even believe him if he told her about the mind reading. His parents sure didn’t. It’s a wonder Grayson escaped that house without going insane. Too many brothers and sisters. Too many thoughts.

Kennedy was the only member of the family that Grayson kept in contact with. She didn’t really give him a choice, calling him multiple times a day and even showing up at his doorstep. Grayson still didn’t know how she found his location. He sure didn’t tell her.

Marla said there was a small café not too far away that she liked to go to. She said it was within walking distance.

Grayson stepped out onto his porch, basking in the cool Wednesday air. He took a seat on the small wooden bench beside his front door. Marla was due to meet him here in half an hour. 

The sun felt too bright on Grayson’s pallid skin. The birds, too loud. But Grayson couldn’t help his weird sort of fascination with the outdoors. Nature was almost foreign to him. His dying orchids from Kennedy are the only living things Grayson is accustomed to.

Grayson sensed her before he heard or even saw her. He had gotten used to her nervous excitement which you would have never expected given her calm demeanor. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Grayson said, smiling.

“It’s good to see you’re not a vampire,” Marla said, shading her eyes from the sun. “You know, some people around here think that’s why you never come out.”

Grayson snorted and stood up, offering his arm to Marla. She rolled her eyes, curling her arm around his bicep nonetheless.

“It’s a lovely day out, isn’t it?” Marla asked.

Grayson squinted. “It’s quite hot.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t think so if your house wasn’t a block of ice. Or if you left it at all.”

Grayson huffed and rolled his eyes. They walked for several more minutes with Marla occasionally giving Grayson a direction.

Grayson sighed in relief when they arrived at the café. It was empty aside from a middle-aged woman wearing an apron. She was standing behind the counter looking bored, thinking about mortgage and her boyfriend. 

The lady sighed. “What can I get for you?”

Grayson looked at Marla questioningly. She smiled at him and ordered for the both of them. They walked to the end of the counter to wait for their drinks.

“You’re quite articulate for a hermit,” Marla teased.

Grayson feigned taking offense. “A hermit? You wound me.”

Marla playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “You know I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

“Order for...Marla,” the woman behind the counter drawled.

Grayson and Marla looked at each other before picking up their order. They sat down at one of the high tables. Grayson took a sip and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was struggling not to drown in the jealousy the glum woman was exuding. 

Grayson focused on Marla. Sweet, feisty Marla. Content, and more importantly, completely at ease.

“So…?” Marla asked.

“So?” Grayson repeated.

“How do you like it?”

“The tea?” he asked.

“No, the weather,” she said sarcastically.

Grayson rubbed his chin. “Why I thought we already had this conversation.”

Marla rolled her eyes. “Yes, the tea.”

Grayson stirred his tea around and added a cube of sugar. He took a long sip and smirked. “It’s all right.”

“So what do you do all day?” Marla inquired.

Grayson shrugged. “I like movies.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “No job?” 

“I guess you could say I’m a freelance writer.”

Marla nodded. “I bet you can’t guess what I do.”

Grayson stroked his chin dramatically. “Are you...a schoolteacher?”

Marla smiled. “Not quite.”

A rush of thoughts and emotions hit Grayson like a freight train. He clutched his head and looked at the door. A group of college kids barged in. It was mostly boys, but there were a couple girls as well. 

They were all laughing at some joke one of them told. Grayson clutched the edge of the table and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you alright?” Marla asked worriedly. 

Grayson grunted, unable to form a coherent thought. Marla had made her way over to Grayson. She laid the back of her hand across his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

Lance is fucking hot.

It’s too cold in here.

Who even invited Mandy.

That joke wasn’t even that funny.

Everyone’s being so loud.

My knee hurts.

The thoughts were starting to jumble together. Grayson stood up abruptly. “I need...leave....too loud.”

Marla seemed to understand. She left a tip on the table and dragged Grayson out the door. He started feeling better once they put some distance between themselves and the café.  Marla put her hands on her hips. “What was that all about?”

Grayson eyed her wearily. “Think about something. It can be anything,” he said after some deliberation.

“Okay...”

“You’re thinking about your cat,” Grayson stated.

Marla raised her eyebrows. “How did you-”

“Her name is Buttercup. She is seven years old and you adopted her four years ago.”

“How do you know that?” she asked suspiciously.

Grayson hesitated. “What would you say if I told you I was a mind reader?”

Marla answered immediately. “I’d say you were going insane.”

“Think of something else...George Washington...now you’re thinking about me. You’re confused because you don’t want to believe me, but all the evidence is there. How’d I do?”

“You...got everything perfectly. How long have you been able to do this?”

Grayson shrugged. “Since I was little. I had thought everyone could do it.”

Marla bit her lip. “Do you read my mind often?”

Grayson faltered. He knew Marla would be upset if he said yes. “No. I can only pick up strong emotions. Or thoughts associated with strong emotions. Or if I make eye contact.”

Grayson nodded to himself. That didn’t sound too far-fetched.

“You don’t go out often because of that?”

Grayson nodded in relief. Marla accepted his explanation.

“You promise you’re not making this up?” she asked.

“How could I?”

“Okay,” Marla sighed. “I suppose we should get you back home before you die or something.”

Grayson smiled sheepishly. “That would be appreciated.”

Marla smiled at a snarky remark she had thought up but kept to herself. Grayson couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his mouth.

Marla turned to face Grayson sharply. “You lied.”

Grayson feigned innocence. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you could only read minds when you make eye contact.”

“I wasn’t reading your mind,” Grayson said, defending himself. “I was just laughing at something I had thought.”

“You mean something I had thought.”

“No,” Grayson said unconvincingly. 

“What were you laughing at, then?”

“That uh yellow car over there, you see it?” 

Marla nodded.

Grayson scratched the back of his head. “It reminded me of a funny scene in a movie. Like a chase scene, but it was a comedy.”

“Uh huh,” Marla said, unimpressed. “And what movie was it from?”

“I don’t quite remember. I watched it so long ago.”

Marla stopped for a second before resuming her walk. “So you can read my mind whenever you want to?”

“It doesn’t quite work like that, you see. I read everybody’s mind. All the time.”

“You know what that man is thinking?” she asked pointing at an elderly man sitting at a bench quite far away.

“No, he’s too far away.”

“Every week I come over, you hear my thoughts?”

Grayson nodded.

“And you never told me?” Marla asked, blushing.

“It never came up.”

“That's a poor excuse.”

“It really didn’t seem all that important.”

Marla groaned. “You need to respect people’s privacy, Grayson.”

“What would you have me do? Die? I don’t want this any more than you do. If I could get rid of it, I would in a heartbeat.”

“I’d get rid of you in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t be like that, Marla.”

“I’m sorry for not wanting to be mind raped every second of my mind.”

“...I’m not a rapist, I’m a reader.”

Marla started walking away. “Is there anything you would like to say to me before I leave? Perhaps an apology?”

Grayson cleared his throat and did his best imitation of Marla. “If his next two words aren’t I’m sorry, so help me.”

Marla glared at him and Grayson raised his arms in surrender. “It was a joke. I was joking.”

“Stop reading my mind. It’s improper.”

“I can’t help it! If I’m within a certain range-”

“-then get away from me,” Marla cried. “We have these walls built up around our minds for privacy. Those walls are meant for keeping you out!”

“Marla!” Grayson cried in vain. He watched her walk away from him. He watched her walk out of his life.

When Monday arrived the next week, Marla didn’t show up. Grayson holed himself up in his room. Watching movies. Ignoring Kennedy’s calls and emails.

When Kennedy busted her way into Grayson’s house a few weeks later, she found him lying on his bed. Unmoving.