Gary laughed, a short, booming sound that did not reach his eyes.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Martha,” he said, shifting his weight. “Just needed a quick charge for the circular saw. My own garage outlet is acting up today. I am sure it is just a temporary thing, Martha, nothing to worry about.”
He did not look at me while he spoke. Instead, he reached into the truck bed for another plank.
“I see,” I said.
“Just a quick project,” he repeated, not turning around. “Have to get these shelves up before the frost really sets in, you know?”
I stood there for a moment, waiting for him to say more, but he kept his back to me.
I walked back to my kitchen and set the kettle on the stove. While the water heated, I stood by the sink and looked out the small window that faced the side yard.
From here, the orange cord was highly visible against the dark, wet grass.
I leaned closer to the glass. The plastic cover on my outdoor outlet box was flipped up, hanging open like a small mouth.
The black plug was pushed deep into the lower socket.
My hand went to my hair again, smoothing the silver strands. Gary had said he needed a quick charge, but the cord had no dust on it, and the grass beneath it was already yellowing in a thin, straight line.
The kettle began to whistle, a low sound that grew into a sharp pierce.
By half past ten, the quiet of my house felt too heavy to sit in. I drove down to Miller’s Hardware, hoping the familiar smell of wood shavings and motor oil would settle my mind.
Walt Miller was behind the counter, his metal-framed glasses sliding down his nose as he counted small brass screws. He looked up and smiled, pulling a flannel sleeve down to wipe the lenses.
“Morning, Martha,” Walt drawled. “What brings you in on a Tuesday?”
“Just looking around, Walt,” I said.
I walked down the third aisle, where the electrical boxes and conduit pipes were stacked in neat, gray rows. On the top shelf, a display of heavy brass padlocks caught my eye.
“You find what you need?” Walt asked, his boots squeaking on the concrete floor as he walked over.
I looked at the locks, then at Walt.
“Just thinking about security,” I said, my voice trailing off.
“People usually don’t worry about that around here,” Walt said, squinting slightly. “Everything okay next door?”
I hesitated, my hand rising to my left ear. I wanted to ask him how much power a circular saw really took, or if Gary had been in lately to buy electrical supplies.
“Just checking,” I said, stepping away from the shelf. “I should get back home.”
When I pulled back into my driveway, the sun had not cleared the gray clouds. I walked around to the backyard before going inside.
She watched the orange cord gleam in the wet grass, looking like a bright barrier between their properties.
