Dark Skies

Warm, humid, and dark, the cloud bank high in the sky didn't look like it would be going anywhere anytime soon. The air was heavy with moisture, making everything feel wet. Caroline glanced ever so quickly at the sky, confirming what she saw: a full-on solar eclipse casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. The brightness of the day never had a chance to show itself, replaced by an otherworldly dimness as if nature itself held its breath. Caroline couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was a rare event that just made those of this morning that much more troubling.

As Caroline walked back in through the front door of her home, she took one last look  before slamming the door shut behind her. Looking around her living room, she turned on her heel, looking out the front window to the grassy lawn outside. Shades of green and yellows blurred in her vision, a beautiful array of colors against the otherwise bleak sky. Bleak day, really. It had all started out so normal. Picturesque, even.

Just this morning she had sat outside on her back patio, taking in her beautiful lawn. One hand held her hot coffee; in the other, her Kindle. Her cat lay lazily in her lap, both of them listening to the singing chorus of birds. She was enjoying her day off on the rare overcast, humid day that almost always seemed to evade Phoenix. It had all started so peaceful, so serene.

 As she now stared out the front living room window, fatigue setting in from this morning's events, her vision narrowed in on the brown patch in her lawn from the newly dug grave. Her cat sat tensely in the chair, his tail swatting back and forth frantically, licking his bloody paws, as he tried desperately to clean himself. Caroline wondered how she got from peaceful to chaotic. "Stand By Me" played in the background as she just stared, trying to figure out what to do next.

 She had already attempted to call the emergency line. "Please stand by, all circuits are busy now," is what the robot voice said on the other end. She wrung her hands together, trying to rub off the reddish dirt covering her hands and arms. She wandered away from the window into the hall bathroom, stealing a glance at herself in the mirror. Rays from the overhead skylight streamed through, showing her scratched up face, tear and blood-stained. She barely recognized her own face. Turning on the hot water, waiting for the mirror to steam over, she plunged her hands into the almost boiling water and splashed her face, still keeping constant eye contact with herself. "Why?" is the only question she could think to ask herself. Well, that and how in God's name did none of her neighbors hear her screaming, her pleas for help, frantic throwing of yard equipment, the ghastly sounds that the mower made when she fired it up - the only weapon she seemed to have handy at the time. She didn't even know you could do that with a mower. Resting her forehead on the mirror, she fished her cell from the pocket of her pajamas and pushed redial. She had kept her phone on the emergency-only setting, hoping that she would be contacted, thinking if she hung up someone would definitely call back. Or they would send someone to your aid. She didn't understand what was happening. Nothing seemed to make any sense.

 She heard the familiar beeps and the same message she had heard from her dozen or so previous calls. The all-too-familiar robot voice: "Please stand by, all circuits are busy now." She wanted to scream, cry, yell, throw her phone. To what end? Maybe she should knock on her neighbor's door, see if they were even home. Would a call from a landline would yield better results? Did her neighbors even have a landline? Does anyone have a landline anymore?

Caroline raised her head to the mirror to take a critical look at herself. To take stock.

She had wanted to hurry and knock on her neighbor's door, but the hot shower was all too inviting. Caroline was pretty sure she had never taken such a long, hot shower in her life. She was grateful for the hot water against her sore muscles. She must have shampooed her hair five times in order to get all the dirt and blood out of her long, dark hair. The bleeding from the scratches on her face seemed to have subsided. Eventually she deemed herself appropriate to venture outside, thankful no one seemed to notice her appearance earlier. She found herself now standing on her neighbor's porch, knocking. After several minutes, she impatiently tried again, "Hello?" Caroline walked to the edge of the porch to peer around the corner to their adjacent carport and saw no car, then immediately admonished herself for that not being the first thing she checked. The absence of her neighbor's dog, Duke, should have been a clear sign too. She leaned her back against their front door and slid to the ground, burying her face in her hands as tears threatened to sting her eyes. Caroline took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and clear her head. What should I do? I could try my cell again. She looked at her call log, noting the twenty previous times that she had tried to call emergency services to no avail. Drive to the police station and report a crime? Was it a crime? How do I even begin to explain something like this? Deciding she didn't want to get into her vehicle, she couldn't help but wonder why no one had bothered to come check on her. She had been so loud, so vocal, so hysterical. It sounded like she was being murdered. In all fairness, that is exactly what almost happened. There was an attempt on her life; the whole thing was self-defense. At least Jack had been there. If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have even noticed that her life was in danger. She got back on her feet, straightened her back, and took another deep breath as she scoped out the rest of her neighborhood, analyzing who else might be home.

 Living in an older neighborhood meant that almost no one had garages. Driveway or street parking was pretty much the only way you could store your vehicle. The city was pretty strict about how and where you could park your car. The city liked telling you how to do anything on the property you owned: where to park, what kind of lights you could have, when and how much you could water your grass, even how high your grass could be. Right now Caroline did not see a single car in sight, which seemed almost impossible. She supposed, however, for a late Tuesday morning it wasn't unheard of, assuming most people were at work or on their way to work. Since Caroline worked from home she recognized that she easily lost track of days and the conventional rhythms of the day.

She walked up and down the street looking for some indication that someone was home. Spotting an older model Nissan Sentra a block over, she approached the home and knocked as loud as she could. After receiving no response, she tried again. "Hello?" Still nothing. She knocked louder for a third time and shouted, "Hello! Is anyone home?" Nothing. Feeling dejected and even more confused on how to proceed, she walked along the quiet streets back in the direction of her home. She walked up to her front stoop, fished her keys out of her pocket, and unlocked her door. That's when the chorus of sprinklers came to life. Everyone's lawn timers were set to go off at the same time every morning. And she realized she could hear them. She not only could hear the sprinklers, she realized she could hear them echo and reverberate from all over. It was the only sound.