Waltzing Matilda

When I first moved to the middle of Nowhere Ville, USA, I was suspicious of everyone and every place. It didn’t matter if I were buying gas or wandering around the grocery store, all it would take was a sideways glance by a passerby, a barking dog, or a car backfiring and my guard was up. I know, I sound paranoid, but for me the term stranger danger has a personal meaning. You’d feel the same if you were enrolled in the Federal Witness Protection Program commonly known as WHITSEC.

Yes, I’ve heard it all before, don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, snitches deserve everything they get, etc., etc., but seriously what would you do given the choice of 20 years in a maximum-security prison or rat out some bad people and get a re-start on your life. Besides, all I did was cook some books so the guys that were killing people and scamming folks out of their retirement money could get away with not paying taxes. No reason to do jail time for that, right.

For the last ten years I made sure my life remained unremarkable, the word boring would be more accurate. I read a lot of books, played too many video games, and remained sociably distant with my neighbors. Even my monthly check-in with my U.S. Marshal handler became routinely dull. This all changed the day Matilda moved into the apartment next door.

As in most apartment complexes people move in and out all the time. I never paid much attention to who my neighbors were. Once the marshals determined the new arrivals were of no concern to my safety my only contact with them would be a smile and a head nod or, on a good day, a brief hello. That wasn’t the case with Matilda or Matty as she preferred.

I knew I was getting a new neighbor because of all the thumping and banging going on the other side of the wall I shared with the flat next door. It’s one of those normal things you grow to expect when living in an apartment. What I wasn’t expecting was a knock on the door at eight in the morning. When I looked through the peephole, I saw an attractive thirty something female pacing the hall impatiently waiting for me to open the door. My common sense said don’t answer, my curiosity said, go for it. The door gave a faint squeak as it opened.

“May I help you, miss?”

“Jackpot,” she responded. “I was told the person next door was a feeble old man, but they obviously didn’t know what they were talking about. I’m your new neighbor and I could really use your help moving a box upstairs. Would you mind?”

That’s how this crazy relationship began. She quickly won me over with her quirky personality and stunning good looks. My guardians found no red flags in her background so, despite our fifteen-year age difference, we started dating. It felt good to have someone to spend time with after ten years of solitude. There were some things about her that made me somewhat suspicious like how she made her money, and where she was from originally, but nothing that raised any red flags. Besides, I was enjoying her company too much to end things.

We were celebrating our one-month anniversary with a special meal I had prepared for the occasion. Her contribution was wine and music. She started the evening by pouring us each a glass of wine and we toasted our first month together. Then she tuned on the music. It started with, of all things, Waltzing Matilda. We both laughed. The music changed to a romantic waltz. She wrapped her arms around me, and we began to dance.

I felt a small prick in the back of my neck as we danced around the living room. Shortly after, the room began to spin, and I needed to sit down. I looked up at her, bewildered and she smiled then explained.

“Your old boss sends his regards.”