of her right now is not the same woman she has come to know over the last nine years. Polly is no longer at ease in Alison’s company. There is no humor in the home, no contentment. The home feels cold and edgy. She thinks Alison is like a zombie. Polly continues to show up on her scheduled days. She does her job and she listens.
“I want to show you how to work the system. It is important that the system is on constantly. It should never be off. Do you hear? Never.”
“Yes, Alison, never.”
“Every window, every door, inside and out, is wired.”
“Okay.”
“Every day I will change the code.”
“All right.” Polly’s voice sounds heavy. This is all too much for her.
“When you enter and you hear the little beep you will have ten seconds to punch in the correct code.”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Alison tries to smile because she knows she is supposed to, she searches around for a smile, but has none. So she spreads her lips, forces a grin, and shows some teeth. Polly leaves the conversation very sure now that smiling actually comes from the eyes and has little to do with the mouth, because Alison just looked scary.
Cautiously, Alison opens the front door and looks out. Seems fine. She walks quickly to the mailbox. Jessie, who is pulling out of his driveway, rolls down his window.
“Hey, Alison?” She looks over. She had hoped if she didn’t lift her eyes he wouldn’t call to her. No such luck. She continues moving toward the front door.
“Hi, Jessie.”
“Can you and Hank come over for cards this weekend?”
“Nope, sorry. Don’t think we can. Say hi to Pam for me.”
She is at the door and inside. He drives away. She takes the mail into the kitchen. She flips open her laptop to CNN, and begins to scour the news not completely certain what she’s searching for.
Later, having decided to work from home that afternoon, Hank puts his key in the lock and opens the front door. Nine seconds later, as he steps into the hall closet to hang up his coat, an ear-splitting alarm blasts followed by floodlights all around the property. Alison rushes into the foyer, opens the end table drawer, grabs the handgun she’s stashed there and turns it on Hank. He freezes, confused by the alarm, stunned to see the weapon in his wife’s hand. Her distant look. She doesn’t see him. Doesn’t know him. She aims. Polly screams! The scream shakes her and her eyes clear. She sees Hank. She lowers the gun. She takes a deep breath. Polly and Hank are paralyzed. Alison walks over to the alarm keypad. She punches in the code, picks up the ringing telephone, gives the alarm company the password, returns the weapon to the drawer, and walks back into the kitchen without a word. Shaken, Hank and Polly look at each other. Tears pool in Polly’s eyes. Neither one of them knew she had a gun. They realize just how far gone she is.
“Hank…” Polly begins, “I just can’t -”
He will not let her finish, “Polly, please.” His desperation is so clear, so heartfelt. “Please,” he begs. “I’ll take care of it.” Polly cannot add to his distress. She nods. He nods. They both turn away. He starts for the kitchen. She collects her coat by the door and as she leaves.
“I’ll be back Monday.”
His voice cracks with gratitude, “Thank you.”
Once inside the kitchen he hears their car engine. He looks out the window above the sink and sees Alison driving away. He knows it must be 2:30 and so she is on her way to pick-up Jimmy. With his adrenaline pumping and his heart pounding, he thinks about her aiming a gun at him and he must face it: Alison is dangerous, dangerous to him and dangerous to their son. This may not be something he can wait for her to get over. It may take more than time. He wonders if there is something contagious about violence, if it’s a virus, if her brain has caught something she can’t shake. What if violence is infectious in the same way as laughter? He’s experienced that. He has been in a room where someone is roaring with laughter and he has begun to laugh having no idea why. Maybe violence is like that. What should he do? Is he failing to help her? Is he failing to protect his son? What should he do? Who can help? His misery is mounting. He goes