The ringing of the phone alarmed me at first, breaking me out of my daydream. A towel was tossed
over my soaking wet hair and then I sprinted out of the bathroom to find my phone. It was perched over
the left side of the couch closest to the door, flashing a bright white light to the darker part of my living
room.
“Hello?” My towel was nearly slipping off the side of my head, so I threw it over the back of my shoulder
to catch the water that was steadily dripping downwards.
“Sela,” a distinctive Polish accent rang through the speakers. “Hello?”
“Oh, Daphne!” I cried out with pure joy. “It is so good to hear from you again. How are you?”
“Oh,” was murmured faintly, a sound that I barely detected through the speakers. “I’ve been better. I am
home now. I haven’t spent much time here, and it feels strange without my husband.”
“Is he any better?”
“Getting there.”
I brushed back a printed orange and red pillow before I took a seat at the edge of my couch. It was late
Thursday evening, and I was nearly ready for bed. “Daphne? Are you ready to go back to work on
Monday?”
“As long as I work a short morning shift at Woven’s, then I should be fine.” She cleared her throat a
little. “I’d give you my afternoon shifts, but I know your time is occupied already.”
“Yes, my schedule is full.”
“I will have to contact one of my other employees then,” she surmised in a tired voice. “But, how are
you doing at Woven’s?”
“Oh, I am fine,” I lied, while squinting my eyes funnily. I tried to push back the awkward drive to the bus
terminal that I had to endure this afternoon from my mind. “Well, you see…”
“Is he giving you any trouble?” my manager asked with worry. “Sela?”
“No, not really.” I pulled up the towel to cover my damp hair more, for I was currently experiencing a
chill. “I didn’t take your advice. I spoke to him…” My gaze lowered to my lap with a feeling of remorse.
“And he spoke to me.”
“Oh, there is nothing wrong with that!” Daphne yelled over the phone. “I’ve spoken to him often. He is a
charming young man.”
“Yes, he is very polite.” My legs stretched themselves out upon the couch, since I wanted to get into a
more comfortable position.
“Very charming!” my employer continued. “I don’t often work on private property, but Mr. Woven was
quite desperate to procure a gardener. You mustn’t say anything, my dear, but he could not hire anyone
in the town.” Her laughter rang through the speakers, increasing in time. “Town gossip,” she quipped.
“But, Sela, you must not listen to them.”
“Town gossip?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said in a way to drop the conversation entirely.
“Daphne? Why did you want me to stay away from him?”
“Because he is a troubled man, Sela. You have a good heart. Incredibly sweet. A nature like yours
against his…”
“Yes?”
“Sela,” she spoke in a tone of voice that was full of concern. “You would only get hurt trying to help
him.”
“Help him?” I piped up, after I leaned forward with interest.
“Mr. Woven is a man that is best left alone,” she warned. “It would be in your best interest to stick to
your job and-”
“-what if I don’t want to?” I interjected. “What if I want to help him?”
“You don’t understand, my dear,” the old lady chided. “You simply do not understand.”
I let out a low sigh, and then fell upon the pillow at the end of my couch dramatically.
“Mr. Woven,” Daphne began. “Has gone through horrors you could hardly imagine. He is still a victim to
it! You would do right to stick to your work and let that be the end of it.”
“But I can’t,” I stammered out with an awful spread of heat across the sides of my cheeks from
embarrassment. “I’ve spent so much time with him already.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“He helps me in the garden,” I informed her. “We have coffee together in the morning, and then we
share lunch. He even drives me to the bus terminal after work, and one time he drove me all the way
home. He enjoys my company, and…” I licked my bottom lip quickly. “I enjoy his as well.”
“The only time I go into the house is to use his washroom,” Daphne commented in a low tenor. “I would
be flattered if he brought out a glass of water to me. Do you mean to tell me-?”
“-yes!” I interrupted her. “I have spent most of my time there with him.”
“Then he likes you,” she pointed out. “Mr. Woven takes a romantic interest in you. He hardly spent
more than five minutes of his time around me. That man often spends his mornings in his art studio,
focusing on his paintings.”
“They are wonderful paintings,” I breathed out quickly.
“You’ve seen them?” Daphne questioned me with a painful sound to her voice. “I wish I had.”
“You’ve never seen them?”
“I told you already, I hardly took a step into his household. Everything I could ever need is outside in
that shed or somewhere in the garden. If I wanted lunch, I would drive down to the village at the bottom
of the hill after work. There is a nice bakery there with sandwiches that are to die for. You should try it
sometime. Oh, look! I am blabbing again.” Her soft laughter echoed on her end of the phone line.
“Whatever you do, Sela, do not mention you work at the Woven’s residency. The locals will tell you
such frightful tales! They will say the place is cursed and all that. Mr. Woven will not like you to hear
such things.”
“Cursed?”
“Never mind that!” Daphne scolded me. “You go to work tomorrow, and perform your duties. I will be
back first thing Monday morning, and there will be nothing for your pretty little head to worry about.”
“Okay,” I submitted in almost a hush.
“It will break Mr. Woven’s heart, I daresay. To see you off again.” The old woman paused, as her
reflection upon the matter deepened severely. “But it is for the best.”
“Will he be alright?”
“Hmmmm.”
“If I leave him?”
“If?” Daphne echoed. “What do you mean by that, child?”
“Only that…” I looked to the right, taking note of the television screen that was off and vaguely
remembered Teddy’s words. “He wants to spend more time with me.”
“Oh?”
“Outside of work.”
“I fail to understand.”
“He wants to show me the coastal line outside of his house. He suggested it this afternoon, but I think
after what happened… after I upset him.”
“Sela, it would be wise to stay away from him.”
“He is quite harmless,” I said as a way of an excuse. “He has been nothing but kind to me.”
“He is harmless. But…” I leaned the phone closer to my ear, eager to learn more of her thoughts.
“There is a blackness to that house. A blackness to him too.” She paused, clearly in pain for having to
reveal the truth to me. “One more day. I pray to God that it rains, so you won’t have to endure it. Stay
away from that man, Sela.” She paused for one more time, to add emphasis to her next words: “Stay
away.”
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