McKenzie yawned as she slowly descended the staircase to the ground floor, her bare heels stomping heavily on each wooden step. It was almost a quarter to noon, but sleeping in wasn’t new to the college girl, especially considering she’d been browsing videos on YouTube until almost two in the morning the night before. The smells wafting up to her second floor bedroom from the downstairs kitchen had roused McKenzie from her late-morning slumber, tempting her to get up and immediately head downstairs for a bite to eat, not even bothering to stop and change out of her night shirt and pajama shorts.
McKenzie’s eyes were still glued to her phone as rounded the banister on the ground floor and headed through the hallway and into the kitchen, finding her mother apparently slaving over over a hot stove, and moving back and forth between the kitchen island and the oven across from it. Mrs. Peterson was making her famous cheeseburger casserole, and McKenzie was practically salivating for a bite.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Mrs. Peterson said with a half-smile as her daughter sauntered into the kitchen.
“Hey, mom,” McKenzie replied flatly as she headed through the kitchen towards the table. “Smells good.”
“Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Mrs. Pederson replied smartly. “About time you got up.”
“Come on, mom,” McKenzie sighed. “gimme a break, will ya? It’s my summer vacation; you know I like to sleep in.”
“Uh huh, and as long as you’re home for the summer and don’t have a job, It’d be nice if you could help me out around the house more.”
“Mom, please,” McKenzie whined. “I just wanna relax, OK?! I really didn’t get a chance to yesterday with all that excitement with the boys after lunch…not to mention that weird, neighbor lady.”
“Kenzie, be nice!” Mrs. Peterson scolded her daughter.
“Well, she was acting weird, mom!” McKenzie shrugged defensively. “I don’t know how much nicer I can say it.”
“Look, I know her behavior was…a bit odd, but cut her some slack, okay? She probably been under a lot of stress taking care of that sick nephew of her’s all week. That’s why I’m baking this casserole to take over to her. I figure she might appreciate the offer.”
“Wha…I thought that was our lunch,” McKenzie commented, slightly confused and disheartened.
“No,” her mother clarified, motioning to the casserole dish that just came out of the oven, “THIS is to take next door. I’ll make a fresh casserole this evening for dinner. Besides, Matt went over to Bryce’s for the day, so lunch is gonna be on your own.”
“Fine,” McKenzie sighed as she stood up from the table, “then I’m going back to bed.”
“Oh no, you’re not, young lady,” Mrs. Peterson retorted. “I want you to get started cleaning up the house today.”
“Come on, mom,” McKenzie whined again, “Do I really have to?! It’s my summer break. Can’t I at least enjoy it?!”
“Young lady, we had an agreement!” Mrs. Peterson replied sternly. “Either you get a summer job or you help out around here with the housework. I already told you: I don’t just want you lounging around the house all summer. Now, it’s already June, and I’ve yet to see you even go out and LOOK for a summer job.”
“Well, what about all the babysitting I’ve been doing?”
“Staying at home for the past month and looking after your brother when he got home from school in the afternoons is hardly what I would call ‘babysitting’,” Mrs. Peterson retorted. “Even watching him during the summer while your father and I are at work barely qualifies; he’s practically old enough to stay home and take care of himself, if need be. Now, if that IS how you wanna spend your summer, that’s perfectly fine with me; I’ll gladly pay you for the effort, but you’re not just gonna sit around here and slack off while you’re doing it. If you’re home during the day, I want you helping out around the house, and you start by taking this casserole next door for me.”
“Wha…why me?!” McKenzie exclaimed with aghast.
“Because I asked you, that’s why,” Mrs. Peterson mocked, grabbing a nearby lid and setting in on top of the casserole dish to keep it warm. “Now, run up and get dressed so you can take this over to ‘em.”
“But…I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
“It’s not gonna take that long,” Mrs. Peterson retorted. “It’ll take you five minutes, tops. You can fix yourself a bowl of cereal or something when we get back.”
“But mom, I-I don’t wanna go over there!” McKenzie whined. “I already told you, that Julia woman really freaked me out yesterday. I-I don’t wanna see her again.”
“Alright, look,” Mrs. Peterson offered with a sigh, “would it make you feel any better if I went over with you?”
“I’d feel a lot better if I didn’t have to go,” McKenzie retorted smartly.
“Alright, fine,” Mrs. Peterson relented. “If you don’t wanna go, I’LL take the casserole over myself. In the mean time, you can start rinsing some of these dishes and load the dishwasher. Then, I want you to go upstairs and get all your clothes and whatnot off your bedroom floor so we can vacuum later.”
“But, mom…”
“No ‘buts’, Kenzie. If you don’t wanna take this casserole next door, you can just start on something else.”
“Fine, I’ll take the stupid casserole next door,” McKenzie relented with a frustrated sigh as she got up from the table.
“Well, not like THAT, you’re not!” Mrs. Peterson rebuffed, noting her daughter’s sleeping outfit. “Now, run upstairs and change your clothes; unless, of course, you’d like the neighbors to see you in your underwear.”
“I’m not in my underwear, mom,” McKenzie griped. “They’re my pj’s!”
“Fine, do you really wanna walk over in your ‘pj’s’, or would you prefer to get dressed first?”
“Fine, I’ll go upstairs and change,” McKenzie sighed again, heading back across the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Peterson said, “and don’t doddle. I’d like to get this next door while it’s still warm.”
“Well…you’re still coming with me, right?” McKenzie inquired anxiously. “I-I don’t know if I can face that Julia woman by myself.”
“Yes, I will go with you,” Mrs. Peterson confirmed with an impatient sigh. “Now, go on; hurry up and get changed.”
“Yes, mother,” McKenzie replied smartly as she walked out of the kitchen and headed back towards the stairs.
“And don’t give me any of your sass, young lady,” Mrs.Peterson added, raising her voice slightly as her daughter headed down the hall. “You’re 19 years old, so act like it!”
McKenzie only sighed and rolled her eyes, not wanting to continue the argument. She rounded the stairs and headed up to the second floor, sticking her tongue out when her mother’s back was turned.
Meanwhile, Sandra headed over to the back door to slip on a pair of flip-flops she kept there for quick trips outside, then stepped back over to the counter, grabbing a towel to wrap around the still hot glass dish of casserole.
“Well, I hope they like it,” Sandra sighed to herself. “I’m sure Julia’ll appreciate the help, what with Tim being sick. She just seemed so flustered yesterday…
“…Especially over that bug,” she added, a perplexed look on her face.
“Hmph,” Sandra shrugged as she finished wrapping the towel around the casserole, awaiting her daughter’s immanent return.
—————————————————————————
Tim sat with his arms wrapped around his legs and his knees tucked into his chest, anxiously rocking back and forth as he listened to the distant sounds of Aunt Julia’s booming stomps amidst the roar of the vacuum cleaner. Under different circumstances, he might have lost track of time, but the digital clock that hung over the living room’s entertainment center served as a constant, ominous reminder of how early in the day it still was; despite its relative distance from the tiny teenager and the blurry appearance of the numbers, Tim could still read the large, black digits: 11:35.
It seemed like forever ago since he’d taken refuge under the living room couch, and despite the somewhat short distance from his bedroom, it had still taken the tiny teenager almost half an hour just to get down the hall and descend the single step into the large, sunken area of the living room, not to mention the extra few minutes it took to get to the couch. Considering Tim jogged the whole way out of fear that Aunt Julia could open his bedroom door at any time and easily spot him out in the open, by the time he reached the underside of the couch, the tiny teenager was tired and out of breath. He might have tried falling asleep to help pass the time, but his anxieties about being discovered, coupled with the fact that the underside of the couch was quite dirty and dusty, and could be a harborage site for bugs, meant that his body was still on high alert, and any real attempt at relaxing was an almost impossible task.
Tim sighed dejectedly, resting his back against the left, front leg of the couch, doing his best to enjoy the respite after the terrifying events that had transpired earlier that morning. Aunt Julia had reached a new low: he couldn’t believe she was actually trying to suck him up with the vacuum cleaner, nor that she’d faked a sneezing fit as an excuse to “accidentally” squash him.
Tim was also well aware that even with the underside of the couch’s shelter, he was hardly free from danger: his giant aunt was still vacuuming and vigorously searching for him at one end of the house—most likely his parents’ bedroom by that point—and any minute she could appear in the hallway arch and start cleaning the living room. He just hoped that when all was said and done, he could hold out and stay hidden long enough for his mother to come home.
Unfortunately, it was impossible to say exactly when that would be. Natalie’s work hours had been somewhat inconsistent over the past week given the time she’d been spending trying to formulate his cure; for all he knew, it could be another late evening, and even if not, it would still be several hours before his mother got home at the very earliest.
All Tim could really do was sit and wait….and reluctantly hope Aunt Julia didn’t think to vacuum under the couch.
——————————————————————————
“Darn, that kid!” Julia spat frustratedly, smacking the off switch on the vacuum cleaner with her foot. “I’ve been searching these stupid bedrooms for hours, and there’s still no sign of him! Where the hell could he be?!”
Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have taken Julia so long to vacuum two measly bedrooms, but having to literally search every possible nook and cranny that a 1-inch tall teenager could fit into was painstakingly slow. It also didn’t help matters that Natalie apparently hadn’t vacuumed in a while, what with her busy work and travel schedule, so the master bedroom was almost as dusty as Tim’s.
Nonetheless, Julia scrutinized every possible hiding spot in the master bedroom and bathroom for her tiny nephew. She even dumped out the clothes hamper at the edge of the master bathroom onto the bedroom floor, meticulously searching each garment before tossing it back inside. Thankfully, Julia having done all the family’s laundry a few days prior made the task somewhat small and manageable, but with having to search every corner, check under every piece of furniture, and even scour the baseboards and vents, it was past 11:30 before she’d finished cleaning the back of the house, and she was still no closer to finding Tim.
“Argh, this is taking too long!” Julia griped as she glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand by her sister’s bed, only then realizing just how long it had taken her to clean and search the bedrooms. “At this rate, Natalie’ll be home before I find that little brat!”
With the morning practically gone, Julia knew she had to start searching the rest of the house, or she’d never find her tiny nephew in time. Given the thorough nature of her search of the bedrooms and master bathroom so far, Julia surmised that Tim must’ve taken refuge elsewhere…unless, of course, he’d doubled back while she was searching.
Julia stepped out to the hallway and thoroughly scanned the carpet with her eyes—from the baseboards just outside the master bedroom, to the archway at the other end of the hall. She reasoned that if Tim had somehow made it down the step into the living room—as opposed to the bedrooms which she’d initially suspected—he’d most certainly be trapped: he’d be too small to climb any of the steps out of the sunken area of the living room, at least not without a great deal of effort and some kind of climbing equipment, and he surely wouldn’t be foolish enough to try escaping through the front door, even if he could find a way outside. Plus, even if the tiny guy DID try to climb one of the steps to another room, she’d easily be able to spot his attempt.
“Alright,” Julia said to herself, “I’ll do one last sweep of the bedrooms and bathroom, then vacuum my way down the hall to the living room. If he’s in there, there’s no way he’s getting past me again…!”
——————————————————————————
“…I still don’t see why you wanted ME to come with you, mom,” McKenzie griped as she stepped out the back door, carrying the towel-covered casserole dish in her hands, “You could’ve easily just taken this over yourself before I even got dressed.”
“You’re not coming with ME, Kenzie,” Mrs. Peterson retorted, pulling the back door closed behind her, “I’M coming with YOU, remember? Besides, it wouldn’t kill you to learn to be a bit more neighborly while you’re home, especially to someone who’s caring for a sick kid.”
“She’s not really our neighbor, mom,” McKenzie commented smartly as she carefully descended the deck stairs, “I mean, you literally just met her yesterday. Don’t you think it’s a bit…I don’t know…presumptuous, to just assume she wants any help?”
“Honey, look, know it seems a bit…forward…” Sandra shrugged as she followed her daughter down the steps. “…but I’m sure Julia’ll appreciate the gesture, nonetheless. Besides, I just want her to know that we’re here to help out if she needs it.”
“Well, she hasn’t needed our help so far this week, mom,” McKenzie commented, readjusting the bundle in her arms. “I don’t see why she’d start asking now.”
“Oh, hun,” Mrs. Peterson scoffed, waving her hand. “Come on.”
The two women started across the lawn towards the neighboring house, their footfalls almost in sync throughout the journey. The grass, still wet with morning dew, rustled and crunched beneath the soles of their shoes as they walked, their flip-flops slapping each of their heels with each step.
McKenzie turned to head towards the front by way of the small side yard between the two houses, when her mother spoke up:
“Oh, no…this way, hon,” Mrs. Peterson said abruptly, “We’ll just go to the back door.”
“Mom, don’t you think it’d be better to just go around to the front and ring the doorbell?” McKenzie queried. “I mean, we barely know her.”
“Hon, Natalie and I are pretty well-acquainted,” Mrs. Peterson added, gesturing for her daughter to follow. “Besides, we’re not gonna be that long: we’re just gonna drop that off and head back. It won’t take more than a minute. Now, come on.”
“…But this isn’t Natalie, mom,” McKenzie tried clarifying with aghast, stomping after her mother, her flip-flops smacking her heels even more loudly, “it’s her sister!”
“Oh, would you stop your bellyaching and come on?!” Mrs. Peterson snapped in frustration, pausing briefly at the bottom step of the neighbor’s deck, “Geez, if I’d have known there would be this much complaining, I would’ve just done this myself.”
“Well, why didn’t you?!” McKenzie retorted. “I already told you that Julia woman creeped me out yesterday.”
“Well, we’re already here,” Mrs. Peterson said as she headed up the deck stairs, “so you might as well just suck it up and get it over with.”
“I still say this is a bad idea,” McKenzie sighed, shaking her head as she stomped up the stairs after her mother. “We should’ve just gone around the front.”
“It’ll be fine,” Mrs. Peterson reassured her daughter, stepping up to the back door. “Don’t worry. Look, the sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get back home and eat…you know, BEFORE you start the rest of your chores.”
McKenzie sighed again, this time with annoyance as her mother knocked on the back door and peered through the glass, looking around to see if anyone was inside.
“Hello?” Mrs. Peterson called out, knocking on the window again. “Julia?! Are you home…?”
Tim jerked, startled by a sudden knocking on the back door. He quickly crawled over to the edge of the couch foot he was resting behind and peered out…
His eyes went wide with surprise when he saw Mrs. Peterson’s giant figure standing at the back door…with McKenzie standing just a foot or so behind her.
“Mrs. Peterson?” Tim uttered in surprise, suddenly realizing he might have a way out of his current situation.
“MRS. PETERSON….McKENZIE!” Tim shouted as he scrambled to emerge from his hiding spot, screaming and waving his arms as he ran towards the back door. “DOWN HERE! IT’S ME, TIM! MRS. PETERSON, LOOK DOWN HERE…”
Julia was on her hands and knees, scouring the base of the bathroom vanity when she thought she heard a noise coming from the other room. She quickly froze and held her breath, waiting silently in the hopes to hear the pitter-patter of Tim’s tiny, little feet giving away his location…
Then, she heard muffled voices, and the sound of someone stomping around the back deck.
Julia quickly rose to her feet, headed out of the bathroom, and started down the hall to the living room…
“Whelp, I guess she’s not home,” McKenzie spoke up as she turned around and quickly descended the deck stairs.
“Not so fast, young lady,” Mrs. Peterson replied, quickly following after her daughter. “You get back here right now! McKenzie…!”
“NO, Mrs. Peterson, WAIT!” Tim squeaked frantically, watching helplessly as the two giant women headed away from the back door. “Mrs. PETERSON…McKENZIE….COME BACK! PLEASE, COME BA-ACK!”
Tim gasped as he suddenly heard loud stomps coming down the hall…
Aunt Julia’s giant figure had suddenly emerged from the rear of the house and was headed right for him!
The tiny teenager quickly scrambled back under the couch, hoping to get out of the middle of the floor before the his giant aunt could spot him. He dove underneath the couch and quickly rolled behind the nearest foot, waiting nervously as he struggled to catch his breath…
Julia hurriedly stomped down the hallway with a look of confusion on her face.
Who the hell could be out on the back deck? she wondered. It certainly couldn’t have been Tim making all that noise, and Julia was starting to worry that someone might be trying to break in through the back door.
As she reached the step into the living room, Julia leaned to her left to get a better view of the deck…but she didn’t see anyone outside. She stepped down into the living room and peered across the deck…no one was in sight.
Julia shrugged and turned around, heading back up the step into the hallway…
She paused, scanning the entirety of the hall again with her eyes.
“Nah, he’s not in the hallway,” Julia shook her head assuredly, contemplating her nephew’s whereabouts. “I’d have seen him by now…”
Julia twisted her back and slowly scanned her eyes around the living room, scowling as she mulling over her next move…
“That’s it…” she stated decidedly. “I’m making my way to the living room….now!”
“But mom, she didn’t answer,” McKenzie argued, motioning up to the back door on on the deck. “She probably not even home. What do you wanna do: stand around here all day until she gets back?!”
“She’s taking care of a sick kid, Kenzie,” Mrs. Peterson retorted, “I doubt she’d leave him home by himself…I mean, unless she had to run a quick errand, or something.”
“Yeah, and that’s another thing, mom,” McKenzie retorted bluntly. “If that Tim kid is so sick, are you sure it’s a good idea for us to be over here?! I mean, I don’t wanna catch anything!”
“Honey, she said it wasn’t that serious, alright?! So, calm down! Besides, Tim being a teenaged boy, one look at you in THAT outfit, he’ll probably perk right up!”
“What do ya mean?” McKenzie queried with confusion, checking out the clothes she was wearing: a thin, light-brown T-shirt and short, cut-off jean shorts that didn’t even reach a third of the way down her semi-muscular thighs. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
Mrs. Peterson quickly stepped in close to her daughter before responding in a hushed tone:
“I don’t think it’s exactly appropriate for you to be wearing that in public, young lady.”
“Wh…I’m 19 years old, mom,” McKenzie retorted defensively, “and we’re not, technically, IN public. We literally just came next door!”
“That’s beside the point, Kenzie,” Mrs. Peterson proposed, motioning to her daughter’s shorts. “I’m just saying: couldn’t you have put on something a bit less…revealing?!”
“What do ya want me to wear, mom, a turtleneck sweater and long pants?!” McKenzie replied sarcastically. “You told me to get dressed, and I did.”
“Yeah, well, I’d prefer it if you would’ve dressed a little more…conservatively, that’s all.”
“Mom, come on, don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s just a style. Lots of girls wear this stuff.”
“Honey,” Mrs. Peterson sighed, trying to calm her frustration, gently placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, “look, I know this is what a lot of girls your age are wearing, but…I just don’t want people getting the wrong idea when they look at you.”
“Mom,” McKenzie sighed forgivingly, “we literally had this talk when I first left for college, remember? That’s why I took that self-defense class last summer. Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself, okay? Besides, it’d be nice to have guys notice me every once in a while.”
“Honey, you’re a beautiful, young, college girl,” Mrs. Peterson scoffed gently. “Trust me, guys notice you.”
McKenzie sighed and averted her eyes to the side, reluctant to admit her mother was probably right.
“Hey,” Mrs. Pederson said softly, placing her index finger and thumb just beneath her daughter’s chin and gently turning McKenzie’s head back to the front, “Sweetheart, look, I know, sometimes, it’s nice to be the center of attention. All I’m saying is that I’d prefer it be the right kind of attention. I just don’t want anyone taking advantage of you, or think less of you just because of how you dress, okay?”
“Okay, mom,” McKenzie sighed, relenting to her mother’s reasoning, “but, if we could get back to our earlier conversation, are you still planning to stand around here and just wait for someone to come home?”
Mrs. Peterson quickly looked back towards the neighbor’s house.
“Well, maybe you’re right,” she relented, motioning to their own house with a nod. “Come on, we’ll go and put this back in the oven to keep it warm…”
Tim watched nervously from his vantage point under the couch, anxiously switching his gaze back and forth from the back door to the hallway, hoping that either Mrs. Peterson or McKenzie would appear on the deck before Aunt Julia emerged from the rear of the house again. He kept eyeing the step from the sunken portion of the living room up to the back door, wishing he was tall enough to climb it, but even if he was able to reach the door, he still wouldn’t have been tall enough to even see over the door frame.
“Please come back,” Tim kept repeating softly, tears in his eyes. “Please…I don’t wanna get vacuumed!”
Julia was scrolling through her phone, trying to find some music to help her stay motivated for the task ahead. She knew it seemed counterproductive to be listening to music with her earbuds in while she was looking for her tiny nephew, but she’d been searching for him all morning with practically nothing to listen to but the monotonous roar of the vacuum cleaner. Furthermore, it wasn’t like Tim would be calling out for her, and if by chance he WAS calling for help because he’d gotten himself into some kind of trouble, Julia figured he deserved to go unheard for a bit—it’d be a fitting punishment for escaping. Besides, Julia figured wouldn’t be able to hear Tim with the vacuum running anyway, and concluded her eyes were her best weapon.
Once Julia found the song she wanted—“One away or Another” by Blondie (a fitting soundtrack for hunting for a shrunken, little boy)—she pressed play on her phone and shoved it into her pocket as her earbuds came to life. Then, the quickly plugged the cord into the wall outlet just inside the master bedroom, then pressed the switch on the vacuum cleaner before pushing it out into the hallway…
Mrs. Peterson stopped dead in her tracks; she and McKenzie had made it about halfway back across the lawn when she suddenly heard a high-pitched squealing coming from the neighbors’ house, possibly the sound of a vacuum cleaner.
“Hon, wait,” she said to her daughter, lightly tugging McKenzie’s shoulder.
“What? What is it?” McKenzie replied, slightly startled.
“I think I hear something…” Mrs. Peterson explained, listening intently. “…Sounds like a vacuum cleaner. I think Julia’s home after all.
“JULIA?!” she called out, stepping back towards the neighbor’s house. “JULIA!”
Mrs. Peterson, however, received no reply.
“Come on, Kenzie,” she said, gently pulling her daughter by the arm. “Let’s get back up to the back door and try to get her attention.”
“Well, why don’t we just go around front and ring the doorbell like I said earlier?” McKenzie proposed. “That way, she’ll hear us.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Peterson scoffed. “Now that we know she’s home, she’s bound to see us waiting at the door again.”
“But she didn’t hear us when you knocked before. I doubt she’ll hear us now.”
“Would you just come on?!” Mrs. Peterson said forcefully, hurrying back to the deck and ascending the stairs. She stepped up to the back door again and peered through the glass, holding her hand over her brow to get a better look inside; she still didn’t see Julia, but could clearly hear the vacuum cleaner running inside. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from.
Meanwhile, McKenzie waited at the bottom step of the deck, not wanting to carry the bundle in her arms back up the stairs again until she knew they could go in.
“Well…see anything?” McKenzie asked patiently.
“Well, I can hear the vacuum running, but I don’t see anybody,” Mrs. Peterson replied, knocking on the glass again. “JULIA?!”
Tim was growing increasingly anxious. Thankfully, Mrs. Peterson had returned and was once again literally standing just a few feet in front of him on the other side of the back door, yet the tiny teenager couldn’t risk trying to get her attention: Aunt Julia was already vacuuming the hallway, giving her a direct line of sight to the area of the living room carpet between the couch and the step up to the back door; if Tim came out of his hiding spot now, he’d be spotted for sure. He had to come up with a better plan before Mrs. Peterson and McKenzie left again.
Unfortunately, and much to his dismay, Tim came to the unfortunate conclusion that his only chance of either neighbor discovering him was trying to alert them of his presence when Aunt Julia answered the door…if she ever did, of course. And that wasn’t the only issue: even if she DID answer the door, there was no way Aunt Julia would actually let either one of them inside the house.
Whatever the reason behind Mrs. Peterson’s and McKenzies visit, Tim knew they were his only shot at being rescued from his evil aunt’s clutches. His chances were slim, but he had to try something.
Tim literally just needed a moment…just one, blasted moment…
He just hoped that either Mrs. Peterson’s or McKenzie’s eyes and ears were more attuned and much faster than Aunt Julia’s foot.