Hard As A Rock

Chapter 1

Riley

     “It’s nothing that a couple of coats of paint can’t fix,” Mrs. Palmer says. She pushes the wiry frames of her glasses up her nose. This is the fourth time she has fixed them. Without a doubt, they will fall again before we are done here.

She’s standing in the middle of the empty living room, which is no bigger than my old bedroom, but that’s fine. I don’t have a whole lot. In fact, all I have fits in a backpack and a duffle bag.

Someone yells down the road, and a car goes screeching by the front of the house. I know my quiet nights are gone. This neighborhood isn’t the best. Most of the houses along the street are in different states of disrepair, with people sitting on their porches drinking beer while children scream and run wild. It’s only nine in the morning!

“I think it adds character,” I say. I give her a small smile. I am not exactly in a place to be finding fault with it.

“I’ll take it.”

Mrs. Palmer nods. “Very well.” We walk into the even smaller kitchen. She puts the lease agreement and a pen on the counter. “The rent is a firm twelve hundred, cash, and is due on the first of every month. Now it does include your utilities, but if you want wifi or anything like that, you will have to get it yourself.”

“Of course,” I agree with her. She seems like a sweet older woman, and I need this place. I don’t care about paint. Just a little bit of warm water and Mr. Clean will do the trick.

I hand her the first month’s rent and a half for the damage deposit.

She counts it before putting it back in the envelope and then in her purse. We both came prepared for this transaction to be completed today.

“So what brings you to Sandy Springs?” She asks.

My hand stills in the middle of signing my name. Clearing my throat, I force another smile to my lips.

“Can you tell me where the closest department store is?”

Mrs. Palmer is truly a saint. She doesn’t call me out on the obvious subject change. There are so many things I would love to talk about. Myself not being one of them.

“There’s a Home Depot about fifteen minutes away.”

“Thank you so much.” The smile is genuine as I hand her the signed lease.

Having a roof over my head is one less worry.

Mrs. Palmer leaves after giving me the keys. I take a deep breath and walk around the house one more time. I was right. All it needs is a good cleaning. I have lived in similar places, and worse, before.

I have a lot to buy. Of course, most of it can wait. The house came with a bed and dresser, which is all I really need at the moment. At least, furniture-wise.

I put my duffle bag in the cupboard above the stove. It’s a tight squeeze but it goes in without much effort. Inside it is all I could take with me, between it and my backpack. I might be a little paranoid, but I can’t risk someone breaking in and taking it.

Shouldering my backpack, I leave and lock up.

Getting to the Home Depot on foot took a little over half an hour. At least the weather is still in my favor– the good thing about meeting so early in the morning. I still have my entire day ahead of me.

I move down the aisles. The great thing about box stores like this is that it doesn’t matter what city you’re in. They are all put together the same, and they all carry everything.

It takes me less time than it did to walk here to find everything I need. A doorbell cam, padlocks, cleaning supplies, a case of bottled water, and a new sim card.

The teenager at the register gives me an odd look as I pay for everything in cash. I understand. In this age where everything is done with the quick tap of your phone, someone paying in cold hard cash is out of place.

Taking a different route back to the house makes the distance a little wider, though it still takes under an hour.

As soon as I get back to the house, I get to work. I put the cleaning products on the counter and the water in the fridge. I take my duffle bag down and get the travel-sized toolbox out of it. This thing’s one of the best items I’ve ever bought.

The extra padlocks go up. One at the top of the door, and the other at the bottom. With those in place, I install the doorbell camera.

Back inside, I close and lock the door. Taking a moment to put up the drapes, nailing them right into the window trim, I take a step back. So far everything is falling into place. Like it always does.

Last item on the list: replacing my sim card.

I pop the side of my phone out and remove the old sim card, snapping it in half with a pair of pliers. I’ll flush it down the toilet later. Putting the new sim card in place, I plug the phone in and turn it on.

It’s fine. As the clock shows up on the screen, it prompts me to swipe in my password pattern. There is nothing on the old card that I need or want.

I open the radio app and pick a station that isn’t local but not completely static either. With it going for background noise, I start cleaning.

Time passes quickly enough. I get lost in scrubbing the walls and floors.

     Outside another car squeals down the road. I’m ready to call it a night, the sun having set who knows how long ago.

     Shouldering my duffle bag, I grab my backpack and head into the bedroom.

     Sitting on the small, single-sized bed, I pull the rest of my money out and count it. I still have just under three grand. That will be enough of a buffer for me to find a job without worrying. I put the envelope down my shirt.

I push the duffle bag under the bed and settle in. Using my backpack as a pillow isn’t great, but I’ll worry about getting bedding tomorrow.