The House -8-


I was walking to the street and still thinking what to do with the strange wallet. Maybe I should take it to the store and leave it at the register. With that plan in mind, I saw my feet. They were covered in sand, and it took a while to wipe it off.

My phone rang. It was Adam.

“Are you at home?’

“Not yet. Do you need something?”

He was in campus at UCI and needed the picture of a document. “Could you help, mom?”

“Of course. I’m a couple of minutes away.”

I rushed up to Balboa Blvd and crossed it to get on Lake St. In a split of a second I felt dizzy and almost blacked out. My back hit the wall of the house I was passing by and I froze there for a few moments. From across the street, a woman was watching me pretty worried. I took a deep breath and slowly got back on my feet. Since the heart disease I was dealing with got complicated a few years before, there were times when I had to stop when walking and hold to something not to fall. The doctor said sometimes my heart couldn’t pump enough blood to reach the brain. Exhaustion, stress, heat and dehydration were triggers for this irregularity.

When I turned the corner to our place, there was an unusual sound. In the beginning I thought it was a dog or some kind of animal crying. By the time I got to our gate, it seemed to me it was the sound of a person grunting. The noise was coming from the house next to ours.




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