Staring Value
Lamp light flooded the living room as her only illumination as Dove shuffled about, nudging aside pairs of boots and kid-sized sneakers. It was a small shoe rack, yet it was stuffed to the brim with shoes that never got worn. Dove had made a point of leaving her shoes just next to the rack to avoid them getting lost in the swarm of laces and soles. The piercing stares of Jason, and his father Joel, remained fixed on her while she searched. Jason kept his thumb firmly planted in his mouth, whereas Joel was marginally more helpful.
“I’m sure I left them both right here…” Dove said over her shoulder, gingerly setting aside a pair of glossy heels.
“Maybe it slipped underneath when you walked in?” Joel suggested. Dove knelt on her hands and knees to check underneath the shoe rack for at least the fifth time, finding nothing but dust bunnies and two plastic wrappers. She gave an abrupt huff, sitting back up with a look of defeat plastered across her expression.
“I don’t see why one would be where I left it and the other would vanish into thin air.” Dove glanced aimlessly around the living room. Joel shrugged and stepped forward to kneel beside her at the shoe rack. Jason stared with his wide, thoughtless eyes as his father dug through the mess of footwear. That stare, as unhelpful as it was unyielding, failed to further elevate Dove’s frustration. Instead, it contributed to her eagerness to get out and go home.
“Here,” Joel announced, lifting a pair of brown worn-out loafers. “Carol’s a few sizes larger than you, but at least you’ll have something on your feet. I’ll find that other shoe of yours and get it back to you next week.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?”
“Not like she’s going to be wearing them any time soon.”
Dove slid the loafers on, then turned to gather her purse and keys. Now that it was over, Dove concluded that her first evening cleaning the house and watching Jason had somehow been both busy and uneventful. Jason had refused to speak a word to her from the moment his hurried father left, instead opting to merely stare with his large, haunting gaze and otherwise placid expression. That stare had been an omnipresent force throughout the evening, peering over her shoulder as she sorted the toys in his room, boring into her back through doorways as she vacuumed, or watching from the cover of the doorway as she scooped the cat’s litter pan. It often sent chills down her spine, the relentless judgment of his stare being too much for her to even think of striking up conversation. When she finally was ready to waddle out the door in the too-big loafers, Joel asked him if she had been nice. Jason made no comment and scurried off, casting a cruel glance over his shoulder as he went. When Dove left to head home, she dared not look back in the same manner.
And yet she couldn’t help but still feel annoyed at the loss of her shoe. Yet she tried to stamp it down. If anything, she didn’t want them to think she was being a diva for being so upset over a silly shoe. When she returned home to her humble apartment with Eddie, who sat on the sofa with a carton of Chinese takeout, she told him of the odd experience. He advised her to keep a better watch of her shoes, saying something about how his “beautiful breadwinner” couldn’t go without them. Dove only sighed.
She returned the next week, optimistic that Joel would have found her shoe. The living room was now empty, open, and so nearly freeing. Furniture had been peeled away from the edges to make room for a coat of day-old white paint on the walls, the stench still lingering and bringing about a fog of delirium. Some pieces were shrouded in old sheets while others were protected by a thin layer of dust brought on by years of stagnation. The only pieces that were uncovered were an obnoxious plaid green couch placed in the very center and a television set that was perpetually playing Beauty and the Beast. Within the entertainment center that supported the television were various photos, most having been turned over to conceal their images. Jason sat with his knees to his chest and his thumb in his mouth on the sofa. His wildly wide eyes shifted from his movie the moment Dove entered the room. It was that stare, ever-present and filled with hazy judgment, that made the room truly unbearable.
“Sorry about the mess,” Joel said, announcing his arrival. “Don’t worry about the living room today. Everything else should be fine.”
Dove nodded, hanging her purse up near the door and leaving her shoes directly under it. “You got it. Hey, did you find my shoe?”
“What shoe?”
“The shoe I lost last week, you said you were going to look for it.” There was a hurried note to her tone that Dove attempted in vain to quell. Joel didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll be back around nine, you two take care.” He was off to some fancy work dinner and Dove was once again left at the mercy of Jason’s inscrutable stare. Dove tried to put it out of her mind and just get her tasks done, making a start for Jason’s room. It was a task that she and Eddie both had deemed as one that should be done first. Maybe it would keep the kid from feeling the need to watch her the whole night. Jason’s room was filled to the brim with everything a child could want. There was a net of stuffed animals that hung loosely over his twin-sized bed, shelves of toys and action figures that framed the walls, and a carpet in the image of a town with winding roads and houses. It seemed to Dove almost a shame that it was a room that housed a kid as peculiar as Jason, someone who couldn’t possibly appreciate it. In the corner of the room was a dresser, a carved wooden toybox, and another piece of furniture covered in a blue sheet. When Dove momentarily lifted the sheet she noted that it was a mirror cabinet.
When Dove turned around, she noticed Jason, his fingers white from gripping the door frame. He leaped forward, like a wild cat on the prowl, and planted himself in between Dove and the mirror. She took that as her sign to hurry up and start tossing the cars strewn across his carpet back into their toy bin. As she tidied up the room, she sang along with Belle, lamenting her provincial life, in the living room. It gave her something to do with herself besides the menial tasks she was completing and it gave her brain something to focus on. Dove believed that Broadway actors also got caught up in the songs they sang, seeing their choreography as a task and the audience as invisible. She didn’t think it would be as easy to do her chores if she paid as much attention to Jason watching her from his spot on the floor.
Jason’s room came and went with ease and she was on to the kitchen. As far as she was aware, Jason had returned to his movie. Eddie’s surprisingly sound advice had worked wonders to relieve her of the ever-present awkwardness. Dove moved on to the dishes, a humble pile that Joel had no doubt reduced before leaving for her benefit. Maybe she wasn’t making as big of an embarrassment of herself at this weekly job as she had originally thought. She turned around to place a rinsed dish into the dishwasher and jumped. The plate went flying from her wet hand and shattered on the kitchen floor with an impact that made Dove shudder. Jason stood at the entrance to the kitchen, his phantom-like presence undisturbed by the sudden catastrophe, a toy camera clicking away senselessly in his hands.
“Jeez, Jason…” Dove sighed, out of breath from the shock. “Don’t come in here for a while, okay? The glass is really sharp, I just gotta clean it up real quick.”
Jason didn’t respond, nor did he move from his spot. He looked at Dove, then at the shattered plateware. The look in his eyes grew cloudy, as though on the verge of tears. Dove opted to assume this was just a trick of light, hurrying off to fetch the broom and dustpan from the hallway closet before Jason got the smart idea of prancing through the kitchen. It wouldn’t have surprised her. She figured Jason’s off-putting act would land him the role of a killer kid in just about any horror audition. When she returned, Jason had planted himself back on the sofa, toy camera nowhere to be seen, watching with a pacified look on his face as Gaston guzzled eggs and sang about his merits. Dove only hoped that Joel wouldn’t think less of her for the accident. Losing her gig over a clumsy mistake like that would be just like her. Dove paused as she spotted a few droplets of red on the kitchen floor.
“Jason? Did you get hurt?” She called out to the living room, only to receive a vague shake of the head from Jason. She pivoted to inspecting herself. Nothing. Dove grabbed a wad of paper towel and wiped up the stain, dismissing it as spilled juice or ketchup that she simply hadn’t noticed before.
When she got home that night, Eddie had out his camera again. He smiled at her and snapped her picture. The flash was on. She had once played the part of the muse, willingly and playfully inviting Eddie to take her picture on a romantic starry night. He wanted to photograph the stars. She wanted to be a star. The camera kept flashing: at family dinners, in bars, on walks from class, in front of friends, and in private. He photographed her when her excitement raged beyond being endearing and when her anger excited unflattering words of discourse. The playfulness subsided and so too did the invitation, yet the camera kept flashing like the disapproving barrage of paparazzi. Eddie was confused by her growing disinterest. Didn’t she want to be a star? How was she supposed to make it big if she couldn’t handle her picture getting taken every now and then? Maybe if she was lucky she could still save enough money from her full-time fast food job and part-time babysitting gig to move to New York. Dove knew that by the time “luck” made an appearance, it would be more likely she had been checked into the psych ward where it was revealed to her that her dreams of Broadway fame never had any substance.
Eddie showed her the picture of herself, disheveled and exhausted, and asked how her day had been. Dove gave the bare minimum reply of “fine.” She said she was feeling sick and went to bed.
On her final evening of cleaning the house and watching Jason, Dove stepped through the front door and noticed that the repeat offender Beauty and The Beast had made an exit. The television was now playing Cinderella.
“No more Belle?” Dove said with a laugh to Joel as she got settled, pulling off her shoes and placing them next to the shoe rack.
“Thank God for that,” Joel chuckled. “Carol always loved showing him the princesses as a baby. Said the singing alone could stop him from crying. Only problem is they can get really repetitive.”
“As long as he’s enjoying himself, that’s all that matters. Any news on my shoe?”
“Your shoe?” Joel gave her a puzzled look and glanced in Jason’s direction. Dove had been content to let it go, but the presence of Cinderella preparing herself for the ball reignited the thought in her mind. Joel scratched the back of his neck and reached for his keys. “Tell you what, I’ll give you some extra cash for a new pair when I get back later. For the trouble, too.”
“No, don’t worry about it. It’s not that big of a deal,” Dove interjected, a wave of embarrassment bombarding her at having asked. Why couldn’t she have just let it go?
“You’ve been really good to us, it’s the least I can do.” He reached for the door, glancing over his shoulder. “You be good for Dove, Jason.”
He was gone and Dove was once again left alone with Jason. She offered a wave to him, though he didn’t seem to notice. His attention was locked on Cinderella. The furniture in the room had all been uncovered and returned to their rightful places, giving the space a more crowded and homey appeal. Jason wouldn’t have seemed nearly as standout as before if not for the fact that his nails were digging into the arm of the sofa, leaving scratch marks in the fabric. Dove, perhaps in a lapse of judgment, didn’t dare stop him. It was easily something that could be blamed on the cat and Dove didn’t dare try to discipline him. He had Cinderella and she had her chores: the perfect arrangement. Dove continued on in the direction of the hallway, content to leave it at that.
“Can I braid your hair?” Jason’s voice, foreign and peculiar to her, stopped her in her tracks. Dove turned around to look at him, stunned into silence by the request. He stared back with his nails still dug into the arm of the couch, mouth slightly agape as though in terrified apprehension. That stare suddenly brought on pity, though for only an instant. He seemed to take her silence for her having not heard, for he repeated himself persistently. “Can I braid your hair?”
She saw how it looked from a child’s perspective, to have a babysitter so cautious and unwilling to make a connection. Was that what he had wanted this whole time and he had simply been unable to communicate it in any way besides watching her like a hawk? How could she have been so insensitive when it was her job as his babysitter to be there physically and mentally? Dove nodded with a welcoming smile. “Sure, Jason. Just make sure you’re quick, I’ve got cleaning to do. Okay?”
Dove settled onto the floor in front of the couch, tilting her head forward. Jason responded with a gentle tug on her hair, twisting strands in a familiar pattern. As Cinderella danced with her prince on the screen ahead of her, Dove considered whether the act of braiding hair was something Jason had seen in one of his princess movies– something he wanted to recreate. Her train of thought came to an abrupt crash when a distinct snipping sound reached her.
“Are you–” Dove whipped around, words dying in her throat. Jason sat with a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of her braided hair in the other. She could see it then, the look of disdain hidden behind the glossy exterior of his stare. Was that what it was? It took only an instant for Dove’s view of him to be soured, for she figured it was only a reflection of how he thought of her. Why else would he act like that? Jason leaped from the sofa and skidded across the floor into the hallway, slamming the door to his room behind him. Dove sat in utter disbelief. Her hand grabbed numbly for her phone and sifted through her contacts in search of Joel. She called twice to no avail and left no messages. What was she even supposed to say? It only then occurred to her that despite the theft of her hair, she was now alone without any prying eyes to judge her performance.
Maybe it was a stupefied search for normalcy that drove her to stand up and go about her chores as usual. She found a new sense of efficiency in her work, flying through tasks in a manner that had become foreign in her previous nights spent cleaning. As she made Jason a dinner of mac and cheese, part of her hoped that he would stay locked in his room for the rest of the night. She called down the hall, all remaining hints of irritation in her tone under strict control, “Your dinner’s out here if you want it, Jason!”
The door at the end of the hallway creaking open and the pitter-patter of Jason’s retreat was all the signal she needed. Dove wandered in to complete her final task for the evening, hoping that dinner would keep Jason occupied. The room was surprisingly clear, most things either placed correctly where they belonged or shoved to the edges of the room to give the appearance of tidiness. Dove stopped in her tracks as she spotted herself at the opposite end of the room. The mirror cabinet, previously shrouded and locked like a gloomy coffin, now stood uncovered and slightly ajar. If it weren’t for Dove’s grave expression being reflected at her through the mirror, as though she were an apparition having escaped its tomb, perhaps she would have thought the mirror not macabre but rather fascinatingly inviting.
She advanced to pick up the mirror’s sheet and return it to its prior place, but paused. Light caught on something through the opening in the cabinet, shining back at Dove in a morbid invitation. Glancing over her shoulder, she swung the cabinet open. A wide range of odd items littered the inside; a stuffed teddy bear, a box of toothpicks, an unfurled tie, an expensive watch, a bag of baby teeth, and an empty powder blush container. As she scanned the contents of the cabinet, a wave of dread came over her. Situated on the top shelf was the lock of hair Jason had stolen from her, accompanied by the colorful toy camera and a jagged piece of broken plateware with crusted blood on its sharp edge. The centerpiece was the shoe she had lost. Dove let out a trepidatious breath and grabbed her shoe, closing the mirror cabinet and whisking the sheet back over the top of it.
Joel returned later that evening and Dove explained the situation with Jason, who had gone back into hiding the moment his dinner was eaten.
“Sorry about all this, Dove. He’s been acting out a lot lately, what with the situation with Carol,” Joel sighed, digging around in his wallet. “Here, some cash for your shoe. And a little extra for putting up with all this. You really are a saint.”
“Thanks,” Dove said, not feeling like a saint.
“Can I expect you back next week?”
“I’ll get back to you on that one.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
“I’ll let you know.” Dove picked up her purse and rattled her keys insistently. “Have a good night, Joel.”
The emptiness of her apartment greeted her with open arms that night, a freeing space with no one indiscernible to concern herself with. A note from Eddie was left on the coffee table, “Be back soon, went to store.” His camera was resting unprovoked beside it. Dove slumped to the floor and took the camera in her hands, flipping through the pictures of her in its memory. She knew what Eddie thought of her– why he took endless pictures of her despite her silent protest. She knew what Joel thought of her– why he’d dismissed her worries about her shoe, only to eventually give in to end her exasperating tirade. She knew what Jason thought of her– she was nothing like Carol, nor had she ever thought to try to be. Dove lifted herself from the floor, the camera balanced precariously in her hands. It tumbled and fractured into broken pieces.
Dove knew she would have to take the blame for Eddie’s camera. She couldn’t escape it.
Julia Ware is an undergraduate student at VWU studying Creative and Professional Writing and Art, while working on the side under the career development sphere in the VWU Lighthouse. She lived most of her life in Vermont before moving to Virginia for high school and college. She is also currently on the social media team for The Fishbowl Review!