Eyes On You

I stood next to Pop-Pop in the glow of the sunset coming through the hospital window. He was tensely quiet, as per usual. I always thought there was something off about Pop-Pop. It was never enough to set off a real alarm in my head, just that he was a little colder than most people, a little more hardened and on the edge. Dad always chalked it up to a product of growing up in the olden days, where things were more about survival and less about “technology and instant gratification”. Pop-Pop never spoke much to my mother, as he didn’t speak much to anyone from my experience. Whenever I asked why Pop-Pop was so quiet, my mother shrugged her shoulders, dismissed it, and told me that it was rude to be so nosy.

I never knew my grandmother. Dad spoke highly of her, and always furrowed his brow when he talked about the last time he saw her. He said she had the softest touch and the kindest smile; it never made sense that she was married to Pop-Pop, but they were very much in love. That is, until the year I was born. Nobody ever found out why she packed up and left. Since that day, there’s never been a trace of her except the spoken ghost. It was very sudden and jarred the entire family. So, to that end, unless I can catch Dad or Pop-Pop in a particular mood, they won’t speak much of my grandmother either.

Pop-Pop’s breathing was labored. He had IV needles in both arms and oxygen tubes up both nostrils. He turned to me and I heard his heart rate spike on the monitor as he looked me in the eye. My mother was sitting in the corner chair, holding Dad’s hand. Dad was watching like a hawk, eager to hear anything he had to say with tears in his eyes like there was some big secret waiting that still needed to be said. Dad was white-knuckled and holding his breath.

“Can we have some privacy?” Pop-Pop gestured at me. I turned to look at my father, who had a shocked and hurt look plastered across his face. He caught himself almost quicker than I could notice, went stone-cold, stood up straight, and pulled my mother up. Both of them hesitantly left the room.

“There are skeletons in my closet that I’m going to trust you with,” whispered Pop-Pop. “Directly under the center of my bed, under the floorboards, and wrapped in a cloth, you will find a black notebook with instructions. Follow those instructions and do not waver – don’t fuck this up,” he said with pleading eyes. I started to interject but he interrupted me before I could even get a word in. “I can’t tell you how important this is. I don’t have much time left - You need to know there are always eyes on you, even when you think you’re alone.”

“What does that mean? Instructions for what?” I pleaded.

“Don’t tell a soul about thi-" and just then, he erupted into a coughing fit which seemed to last an eternity. He finally collected himself and hoarsely managed, “I’m tired. Bring your parents back.”

I begrudgingly called my parents back to the room. We said our goodbyes and told him we would be back in a few days. My parents said we were going to clean his house out to prepare for his final stay at the hospice center. As we rode in silence through the night, I thought about what Pop-Pop’s words could have meant. I wondered why he chose me of all people to entrust with his secrets. We had never really been close, not like I had wanted. I knew other kids with good family relationships, but it seemed like the glue in my family was a little weaker since the day my grandmother left. I spent the car ride daydreaming of making my own happy (read: functional) family.

We arrived at Pop-Pop’s house by morning. It was a non-descript, ranch-style home in a dilapidated area of town. Dad opened the door, and the acrid smell of cancer-ridden diapers wafted through the air. I fought back the urge to gag. We brought some totes inside and got to work. While we were packing, my parents began to discuss a recent news story about a robbery gone wrong that had happened in the next town over.

“I’m going to the restroom. Be right back,” I told my parents around two hours in. It was the first chance I had to get away from the main event. We had mostly been cleaning out the front rooms for the morning. I was curious about Pop-Pop’s life but was disappointed to find nothing of note. He seemed to live a very simple life. I wondered if he didn’t talk because there was nothing to say. I was getting exasperated – I didn’t even mean to get roped into this. I was supposed to go home after the hospital visit, but my parents insisted that they needed my help with some of the heavier furniture items.

I walked down the hallway and saw Pop-Pop’s bedroom door closed to the left of the bathroom. I made sure to turn on the bathroom light, which had a rattling fan that could easily be heard from the living room, and shut the door. I quietly opened the bedroom door and kneeled down beside the bed. Moving the bed ever so slightly to avoid any unnecessary noise, I looked underneath and found an area rug that I moved to the side as well. I ran my hands over the gnarled floorboards and…..there!....one of them was just slightly lifted from the floor. I caught the edge with my house key and tried to lift it. The board came up without hesitation. Inside, as promised, was what appeared to be a cloth wrapped around a rectangular item.

I picked it up and unwrapped the cloth to find a small black book with a blank cover. It had a satin finish, and felt full and heavy in my hand. It was heavier than expected, in fact. I ran my finger down the spine to find that the book felt rather crisp and untouched. The pages were in great condition too!

I paused for a moment to perk my ears toward the front of the house. Good…..my parents were still distracting each other while they continued their monotony. Gossiping over that morbid news…“How messed up do you have to be to rob an old lady in broad daylight????” she lamented. “And to think she died in the hospital from her injuries. What a waste.”

I looked back to the book and opened the cover.

My jaw dropped in shock at what I saw. Delicately placed in the cut-out pages of the rest of the book was a folded note atop a large wad of cash. I picked it out of the book and thumbed through the crisp, hundred-dollar bills. I eyeballed it and guessed there must have been twenty thousand dollars sitting in my hand. It was definitely more cash than I had ever held in my life.

I unfolded the paper - hand-written in cursive black ink was a short set of instructions.

Hello,

If you are reading this, I’m probably long gone. My dear Vera is in danger and the contents of this book will allow me to set her free. Years ago, she crossed a very powerful person due to blind loyalty and a very irresponsible plan on my part. If they saw my face, well……..they never did, thank God. But they don’t know you, so I need you to do a few things. You are holding more responsibility than you can even comprehend.

1. DO NOT ever take the money out of this book.

2. Drive east until you hit the state border, and stop in the first town you see.

3. Visit the jewelry store on 9th street and ask for Vera in the stockroom.

4. Give the cash to her and tell her it’s for a one-way trip.

5. Make sure she knows I love her very much.

If you only learn one lesson from me, learn that growing up is about taking responsibility for your actions. I need you to know that if there was an easier way to do this, I would have done it, but you are the only one I can count on.

Please be careful and please, for the love of God, don’t get caught.

I took a moment to process the note but decided I needed to take care of this later. I rearranged the room carefully, stepped into the bathroom to flush the toilet and turn off the light, and stuffed the book in my backpack until we were ready to leave.

Before we made it back to the hospital, Pop-Pop had passed away due to a lung collapse. My parents were reeling. After the initial shock of the news, we collectively decided there was nothing else that needed to be said during that car ride. The silence was as thick and comforting as a weighted blanket.

As if Pop-Pop knew, we passed right through the town in the note. I suggested to my parents that we stop on 9th street for lunch. With dark circles under their eyes, they agreed apathetically. We drove around until I saw the jewelry store. There was a hip taco place just next door which I eagerly pointed to. I practically leaped out of the car, turning back to yell “I’ll grab us a table!!!”

I knew it would be a solid couple of minutes to find a parking spot. I seized my chance to book it into the jewelry store and did just as the note said. Vera shyly walked out of the back of the store upon being summoned by the shop owner. I had seen this woman’s face before. No – that’s not it. I had definitely never met Vera. She did look oddly similar to the woman who was murdered in the town block the week prior, though….. Her leathery olive skin and ice green eyes were captivating.

I told her I was in a hurry. I stumbled through the transfer of the book to her, trying not to attract attention. She took the package from me, looked me straight in the eyes, shed a single tear, and smiled at me with stained and crooked teeth.

“Gosh, you sure have grown - I knew he would never forget about me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart,” she proclaimed. She left me with a wink, and I ran next door to save a table for our family. How odd to be less than a block away from my long-lost grandmother, but be bound to silence…

I went home feeling satisfied with myself and tried to force myself to relax after an adrenaline-driven day. I flipped on the news for background noise. Amidst the drolling of the news anchor, I looked up and saw an odd headline:

“BREAKING NEWS: ELDERLY WOMAN VICTIM TO SECOND DEADLY MUGGING THIS WEEK”

I stared at the screen in a daze as dread washed over me. I wanted to scream but it got caught in my throat.

I fucked up. I don’t know how, but I failed. Of course. I racked my brain for the exact words he said......

You need to know there are always eyes on you, even when you think you’re alone.

The urge to vomit made me lurch out the front door.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an unfamiliar car with tinted windows sitting directly outside my house. From inside, I could barely make out the silhouette of a man. He rolled down the window, brandished a small black book while staring me down with cold eyes. And then, as if to mock me, he chuckled softly as the driver pulled away.

-Auva-