Knock Once, Knock Twice

Sarah sat on the couch watching her favorite comedy on Netflix. She smiled occasionally but seldom broke into laughter. Her life had not been the same for several years.

James had run off with her best friend a year ago. He had been her life. Her resurrection after her parents had got divorced. She had chosen not to see her mother, despite numerous efforts on her mother’s behalf. She was a kind and loving soul, but what her mother did to drive her father away, she could never forgive her for.

Her father had been her idol. He, too, had shattered her dreams and hopes, choosing to run off to goodness knows where. She had not heard from him in six months.

She did not know if he was alive, dead, or in some multimillion-dollar mansion. She missed him. She missed his smile and his deep, soulful eyes. Her mother had robbed him of both and her of a father whom she adored.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door.

“Knock, knock-knock.”

It was distinct, well-thought-out, like the start of a Morse code or something.

She was in her tracksuit and was not expecting company. She hesitated. Did she really want to answer the door?

It wouldn’t be anyone important. But how did they get in anyway? People were only supposed to get in the front door if they were buzzed up. She had not buzzed anyone up.

She got up, went to the front door, and peered through the peephole. No one was there.

Perhaps it was Jessie who lived next door. She always wanted something else—sugar, milk, coffee. Sometimes, she would come in for a drink and a chat.

She was actually glad there was no one there as she turned to return to the couch; her bare foot stood on a piece of card. Slightly bigger than a business card. It was gray. She bent down and picked it up. It was blank on both sides.

She held it up to the light – nothing. She put it on the table near her door. She got up and decided to make a cup of tea. After that, she settled back on the couch.

Tuffo, her Shih Tzu dog and now her best companion, is there asleep.

“Some watchdog you are,” she muttered as she scratched his belly. “Next time, let me know if there's someone.”

Tuffo half-opened his eye, as if to say, “Not my problem, but okay. Scratch me more, and I’ll think about it.” Then he closed his eye again.

Fifteen minutes later, Tuffo pricked his ears and cocked his head. She waited in silence.

The same knock – "Knock, knock-knock.”

She jumped. Tuffo followed her and let out a gentle growl as if to say, "I've got this.”

She cuddled him so he would not make a noise and bark. As she picked him up, she went to the door. There was another gray card on the floor. She looked through the spyhole and saw a shadow moving away, about to go down the stairs.

It was too big to be a woman, but the overcoat the person wore made it difficult to tell. She picked up the card. Blank just as the other one was.

No, there seemed to be some very faint impressions on the card. She put Tuffo down. He trotted off to the comfort of the couch again as if to say, “My job is done; more sleep.”

Sarah went to her desk and got a pencil. She had seen on TV how to make a hidden message appear and stroked the pencil back and forth over what she thought were words. As she did, they started to appear:

I- a-m S-orr-y

That was all. No name, nothing except those two words.

Who could it be, and why didn't they just write it?

Why did they keep running away before she could get to the door?

Her imagination started to drift. Was it James?

He had keys to her place, or at least he did. She had changed the locks since he left, but he still had a key to the front door. It could be him.

Why would I come back after all this time? If his relationship had fallen apart, was he coming back to beg for forgiveness and for her to take him back?

If so, he was out of luck. There was no way she would have to go to him anyway. He had always had a violent temper, and she no longer trusted that he would not harm her.

Was it another attempt by her mother to reunite with her?

She didn’t have keys. But she could sneak in with someone else. She’d just say she was Sarah’s mother and she was expecting her. But if so, why did she not wait?

Could it be her father?

After all this time, was he back, and he realized how much his running away would have affected her. She racked her brain trying to remember if she had ever given him a key to her apartment.

She couldn’t remember, but if it was him, why had he come to her door three times and not waited?

Now she was scared. It was clear someone was paying her attention that she could well do without.

She took Tuffo and went to bed.

In the morning, she woke up from a restless sleep, half expecting to see another gray card under the door. There was none.

It was Saturday and she had no plans apart from talking to Tuffo for his walk. She looked out the window. Heavy rain clouds were on the horizon.

“Come on, little man,” she said, addressing Tuffo, "we need to get on our walk or we will both get wet."

He cocked his head in acknowledgment.

As they approached the door, Tuff hesitated and let out a deep growl under his breath. Sarah peered through the peephole. Coming toward her door was the same dark shadow from the night before.

She could see now it was a man. Dressed in blue jeans and brown boots with a hoodie under the raincoat. The man was frail and struggled to walk. As the shadow approached, she got ready to open the door. But when he was just four steps away, he turned and went back down the stairs.

“Not this time,” she said to herself, plucking up the courage to open the door. With Tuffo on his lead, she opened the door. “Hey, you, what do you want? Stop.”

The figure stopped and turned around. He lowered his hoodie to reveal a gaunt face: skin and bone. No hair, not even any eyebrows. But she could never forget those deep, soulful eyes.

"Father, is that you?”

The figure smiled awkwardly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Till next time,

Calvin

Submitted to a "Knock at the Door' challenge