Chapter 2 - Jane
750 Words
Entering the market, I feel a familiar sensation of eyes on me. The market is very busy today and I don’t recognize anyone in the mass of people, nor do I see anyone staring. Unfortunately, I have to pick up groceries and cannot put it off anymore. Scanning the crowd once more, I take a deep breath and plunge into the fray. Keeping my bags close to me I manage to make it to Mr. Hatcher’s stall. The feeling of being watched fades to the back of my mind as I set to finding less than desirable vegetables.
“Good afternoon Miss Jane. I hope your week is going well. How’s the job coming along?”
“Hi Mr. Hatcher. The job is good. Hard work, but it pays the bills. Speaking of which, do you have any irregulars for me today?”
Tipping his hat back on his head, Mr. Hatcher looks at me and takes the perpetual toothpick out of his mouth.
“I don’t have any irregular veggies today dear, but a little birdie told me the other day that you have been helping Old Lady Weston out with groceries these last few months. Is that true?”
“Just here and there, when I can afford it. She gets so little help nowadays, with her son gone and such.” I state half-heartedly. In reality most of my food goes to her. With her son’s death, she just does not have the funds to pay for rent, bills, and food. God knows I can hardly do it, much less someone on a fixed income.
Mr. Hatcher leans back even further and tsks. Reaching down he grabs a bag of prime vegetables and places them on the counter.
“I’m sorry Mr. Hatcher, but I can’t afford these. Maybe I’ll go back and search through the bins again.”
“I’ll hear none of that young lady!” Mr. Hatcher sternly says, making me shrink back a bit. “You will take these, and think nothing about payment. If I had known what you were doing, I would have rejected payment from you weeks ago. So you will take these and share them between you and Mrs. Weston and that’s final!”
I stared helplessly at the bundle of veggies.
“I cannot take this, please at least take what I was willing to spend!”
Shaking his head, Mr. Hatcher turns and ignores me, refusing my outstretched hand holding my meager amount of money.
Fine! I’ll just go and come back later when he is being more reasonable.
Leaving the bag on the counter, I turn and suddenly feel the weight of eyes upon me again then suddenly it's gone. Ignoring my paranoia, I turn and start walking through the market. I am almost free when I feel a tug on my sleeve.
“Miss Jane, Papa said you forgot your bag!”
Looking down I see Frank, Mr. Hatcher’s boy, smiling up at me holding the bag of vegetables.
“Papa said you shouldn’t forget your stuff, or he will just have to start delivering it to your house! Bye Miss Jane, see you at school Monday!”
Before I even can get a word in, he’s gone back through the crowd and I’m left with nothing else but to go home with my bag of vegetables.
--------------------------------
Finally!
I flop down onto my couch and kick off my shoes. After the market, I stopped by Beatrice’s to drop off the bag of veggies, minus a few for myself. Ever since her son died, visits with her have gotten longer and longer. Which I normally don’t mind, but the events in the market have drained me, and I struggled to keep my mind from wandering. I eventually pleaded that I was feeling tired and guiltily left.
I go over what happened this afternoon and try to figure out if I’m going crazy. I can’t explain it, but for the last few weeks I have felt like someone has been watching me. Not all the time but often enough that I have started to feel paranoid.
Or maybe you are going insane.
I have never seen anyone watching me, but I feel them just the same. Today the sensation was even stronger. Like there was more than one person, and then, poof, it was gone. Funny enough, I don’t feel threatened. I don’t feel like I am in danger.
Danger or not, it’s still creepy.
Then again, why would anyone want to watch me? I’m no one important. I’m just your average ordinary person. I work, I come home, and that’s it.
It’s probably just my imagination. Nobody would want to watch me. I’m probably the most boring person in the world.
- Writer
