NT FRANKLIN - THE NIGHT VISITOR

NT Franklin has been published in Page and Spine, Fiction on the Web, 101 Words, Friday Flash Fiction, CafeLit, Madswirl, Postcard Shorts, 404 Words, Scarlet Leaf Review, Freedom Fiction, Burrst, Entropy, Alsina Publishing, Fifty-word stories, among others.

The Night Visitor
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Rick kissed Rachel goodbye, like he did every Tuesday morning. He drove to the airport and flew to Cleveland, where he serviced commercial air-conditioning clients in the area. Like he did every Tuesday through Thursday, flying home on Thursday evening. 

On the plane he smiled to himself as the big rugged guys squeezed into the small seats. Being a geeky little engineer had its advantages. Bald and pasty, not so advantageous, but he did have a pretty brunette waiting at home for him. 
The routine suited him well and provided a good enough living that allowed Rachel to be a stay-at-home wife. Rachel never told him how nervous she was when he was gone every week.

Friday morning was oatmeal and toast day. Next to his bowl was an envelope hand addressed to him.
“Rachel, what’s this?”
“I don’t know. It’s addressed to you; it came yesterday. Aren’t you going to open it?”
“After my oatmeal.”
Rachel looked over Rick’s shoulder when he opened the envelope. “Interesting, a photograph printed on a sheet of paper with no accompanying information,” Rick said.
“My God! That’s me!” Rachel screamed. “I wore that T-shirt to bed on Tuesday night.”
“What? You don’t wear the nightgowns I bought for you?” asked Rick.
Rachel sat down and regained her composure. “That’s a picture of me sleeping in our bedroom, taken Tuesday night. Someone was in the house, in our bedroom, when I was asleep.”
Rick took a bite of toast. “That’s awful?”
“RICK! You have to do something.”
“Yes, we’ll go to the Police station when they open, say 9 am?”
“No. We’re going now. The police are always open. I’ll get dressed.”

Rick and Rachel spoke with the chubby desk Sargent and then a detective. After listening, the graying man said, “Well, ma’am, there’s nothing we can do. There is no evidence of a crime being committed. This is a photograph, nothing more.”

Friday’s mail was in the box when they returned from the police station and there was another hand-written envelope addressed to Rick. Rachel was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table shaking when he opened it. 
“Same thing, picture of you sleeping in a different shirt and from a different angle.”
Rachel came around the table and looked at the photograph. The color drained from her face. “I wore that T-shirt to bed on Wednesday evening. Someone was in our bedroom when I was sleeping again.”
Rick called the police and the same detective came to the house two hours later. The detective examined the locks and outer doors as well as the bedroom, but nothing was amiss. 
“I suggest you change all the locks to your house and make sure they are locked all the time. You might also want to consider a burglar alarm system. The newer ones have video cameras and can be viewed on a phone.”

A locksmith came, changed the locks, installed safety chains and deadbolts on all the outer doors. An alarm company installed multiple WIFI cameras in the house and a keypad at the front entry door. They scheduled to arm all the windows in the house on Monday.
When the last of the service people left, Rick said, “That’s the best system on the market, Rachel. You should feel safe when I’m away.”
Rachel nodded without commitment.
Saturday and Sunday followed the usual predictable pattern.  Four people from the alarm company finished all twenty-two windows in the house Monday afternoon. 
Rachel was crying when Rick kissed her goodbye Tuesday morning. “I have the app running on my phone and I can switch between cameras. It will be like I’m there.”
“But you won’t,” was all Rachel said.


Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath when he settled into his seat on the plane headed for Cleveland. He had his work to do.
Rachel didn’t sleep much Tuesday night. She sighed with relief in the morning when the motion sensors didn’t record anything overnight. She was now adept with the alarm setting routine and slept well Wednesday.
Thursday had another hand-written envelope for Rick. Rachel tore it open and collapsed onto the floor. The picture was of her sleeping on Tuesday night.
When she stopped hyperventilating, she called Rick’s cell phone. “Another letter came with a photograph of me in bed.” She started sobbing. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“You opened my mail? No matter, I guess,” Rick replied in a calm voice. “I’ll be home tonight at the usual time. Best I can do.”
Rick had said goodbye and hung up before Rachel started screaming into the phone.
Rick arrived home to find Rachel sitting in her car at the curb with the doors locked. As he approached the car, the window lowered. 
“I didn’t want to be inside without you.”
“Well, I’m here now, so we can go in and solve this mystery.”
A pot of coffee later, Rick told her there was no mystery to solve. The system did not record anything for the two nights he was away. He was a bit annoyed that Rachel wouldn’t let him out of her sight, but he understood.
They slept well that night, until the Friday mail arrived. The envelope contained a photo of someone lying next to Rachel on the bed. 
“Are you having an affair?” asked Rick?
“What? NO! What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m just asking because I have a photo of you in bed with someone.”
“RICK! No. Someone was in the bedroom and is lying in the bed next to me. Do you know what that means?”
Rick thought long and hard before he answered. “Well, not entirely.”
Rachel slammed her fist on the table. “Someone is breaking into the house and taking pictures of me while I sleep, and I have no idea who, when, or how.”
“Yes,” Rick said, “I know that.”
After that, it was a very quiet evening and next few days.
At Rick’s suggestion, Rachel checked into a motel Tuesday and Wednesday evening. Shopping therapy filled the days. 
Rick shook his head when he arrived home and found Rachel outside, locked in her car. They went to the house together and Rick gathered the mail from the box on the way in. As Rachel carried packages in and recounted her motel and shopping, Rick sorted through the mail until he came to the hand-written envelope addressed to him.
He held it up and Rachel stopped talking midsentence.
Rick opened it and held the photo up to Rachel. “I presume this is the motel bed?”
Rachel started shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. 
“Relax, Rachel or you’ll have an anxiety attack.”
Rachel didn’t hear a word he said, as she was in a heap on the floor by then.
It was at that time Rick thought to himself, time to call off the prank Some people can’t take a joke.
 

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