“The usual punishments don’t work,” Steve said. “No sense giving her extra chores when she’s already doing way more than her share, or grounding her when she doesn’t want to go anywhere and she’s quit playing games or watching TV on her own. I said we should stop her from cleaning something, but —”

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Wanderer and Homebody

Part 4 of 6

by Trismegistus Shandy

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This story is set, with Morpheus' kind permission, in his Twisted universe. It's a sequel of sorts to my earlier novel Twisted Throwback, but it should stand alone tolerably well (though it features three characters from Twisted Throwback). Thanks to Morpheus for his feedback on the rough draft.

You can read the opening chapter of my novel The Bailiff and the Mermaid for free, or buy it at Smashwords or Amazon.

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Steve got home a few minutes later, and Craig not long after. Emily emerged from her guest room and her study break in time to help set the dining table for supper.

Supper was tense, with Lisa glaring at Tim, Mindy and me, after having angrily appealed to her father, who’d glanced at Mindy and said: “Let’s talk about it after supper.”

“So,” Mindy said after a few minutes, “how was your day, Craig?”

He told us in vague terms about hanging out with certain friends, playing games and watching movies.

“Is Tim still working you hard?” she asked Emily. “I feel bad about having you come visit and making you work all the time —”

“It’s cool,” Emily replied. “I’m taking breaks when I need to, but I feel good helping Tim out. You know Uncle Jack helped me a lot right after my Twist, and I like to pay it forward.”

Steve and Craig shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, glancing briefly at Emily and me and back down at their plates.

“I’d like to do something nice for you before you go home,” Mindy continued. “I’d say we’d take you out to a nice restaurant, but I’m not sure Tim could...”

“We went out for tacos today,” Tim said. “Dad said I should try going out for a little while, and it was okay at first.”

“You’ll have to be gone a lot longer than that on Friday,” Mindy said. “Jack, do you think she’s ready?”

“She says she thinks she can do it if we get the place clean enough by then. Tonight and tomorrow should be enough time — if Tim doesn’t have to do all the work herself. If she has enough help.”

Steve swallowed a bite and said: “I said I’d wash the outside windows this weekend, but —”

“Dad washed them today,” Tim said. “I did the insides and he did the outsides.”

“Oh.” Steve was taken aback. “Ah... thanks, Jack. So what else needs to be done before you leave for this clinic Friday morning?”

“The other closets,” Tim said; “the one in the den for instance... and, um, the ones in your bedroom and Craig’s. I mean, Craig’s room is okay mostly, but his closet...!”

“My messy closet is the secret of my clean room,” Craig said. “Don’t mess with success.”

“But it’s not right,” Tim said, frustration evident on her face.

“I think we need to set some new ground rules,” Mindy said. “We all,” (she looked significantly at Steve as she said this) “need to keep our rooms cleaner and neater than before, to avoid causing Tim unnecessary distress. But Tim, you need to not go in other people’s bedrooms without permission.”

“I know,” she said, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Craig, can you work with Tim on cleaning your room after supper? Or would you rather do it yourself? Your father and I will be working on our room.”

Steve looked for a moment like he wanted to protest, but closed his mouth without saying anything. Craig looked bemused for a moment, and said:

“Okay, squirt, you can help me.”

“What are you going to do about Tim going in my room without permission?” Lisa asked Mindy.

“Your father and I will discuss that in private,” Mindy said, frowning.

Now that she had permission to help Craig clean his room, Tim was eager to finish dinner, and didn’t waste any more time talking. But when she finished eating, she seemed torn between starting in on cleaning Craig’s room, or staying to clear the table and work on the dishes. Emily saw this and said: “You go ahead as soon as Craig’s done — I can get the dishes tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

“Go ahead.”

Craig finished about then and he and Tim went down the hall toward his room, already talking about what needed to be done.

Steve and Mindy disappeared into their room, and Lisa into hers. I helped Emily with the dishes, and we talked in Mandarin.

“Do you think we can really get the place so clean that Tim’s compulsion doesn’t affect her?” she asked.

“We’ll have to try. It depends — it doesn’t seem to be a compulsion to clean, so much as a compulsion to have her home be clean. That’s how she describes it, and it’s consistent with the way she’s happy to have help, or have other people clean parts of the house while she cleans others.”

“But still — I don’t think she’s taken any time off from cleaning except to eat and sleep and, um, stuff like that. Except when we made her go out to shop for clothes, or see the doctor.”

“Could be it’s just because the house isn’t clean yet. Could be she’ll never be satisfied with it, that she’ll keep finding things that could be better... maybe once all the clutter and dirt is eliminated she’ll start wanting to redecorate or renovate. But no sense borrowing trouble. Let’s hope it’s just focused on getting the house clean enough, and try to help her do that before Friday morning.”

When we’d gotten the dishwasher loaded, the table wiped off, the floor swept, and the salt-shakers and so forth arranged symmetrically the way Tim liked them, I said: “I’m getting a little restless — I can help with some more cleaning later, but right now I need to go for a walk. I should let Mindy know... and Tim.”

“Yes...” She glanced toward the hall.

I went first to Mindy and Steve’s door, planning to knock, but I heard raised voices. I could make out a couple of phrases here and there — “if you hadn’t,” “you can’t just,” “not her fault” — and part of me wanted to stand there and see how much I could learn that way, but I suppressed it. I went further down the hall to Craig’s bedroom door, which was standing open.

Tim was wiping dust off the shelves and desk with a damp washcloth, while Craig pulled stuff out of the closet preparatory to reorganizing it.

“I need to go for a walk,” I said. “You know how it is, right?”

Tim nodded, though Craig looked puzzled. “Are you coming back tonight?”

“Yes, as soon as I can satisfy the compulsion — see something new. I’m getting too familiar with this neighborhood, so I might have to walk twenty or thirty minutes to get to a street I haven’t walked on before.”

Tim smiled. “You could sneak into somebody’s backyard, you’ve never been there before. Craig, isn’t Enrique’s family on vacation this week?”

“Yeah, but — are you serious?”

“No,” I said, “bad idea. Urban exploring is one thing, when it’s an abandoned building and you’ve got a buddy and the right equipment to do it safely. But not when people live there and just happen to be away.” Maybe it had been a mistake to take Tim with me on that late-night walk around Trittsville. But... it had turned out okay, and with the way her Twist was turning out, we’d never have a chance to do that again. I resolved not to regret it. “I’ll help out with whatever I can as soon as I get back.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

I passed by Mindy and Steve’s door. If anything the voices coming through it were louder. I decided to just go, and talk to Mindy when I got back; if she came out in the next while and wanted to know where I was, Emily or Tim could tell her.

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When I got back, almost an hour later, Steve was hauling a bag of garbage out to the curb.

“Should have thrown some of this stuff out years ago,” he remarked, nodding a hello as I walked up. “It would have sat around for another ten years if your daughter hadn’t given us a nudge.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’ve traveled light and kept possessions to a minimum since I was a teenager.” There’d been a time, shortly after I Twisted, when I hauled around a big backpack and a duffel bag full of everything I could imagine needing on the road. Over time I’d learned to improvise and do without, and pared it down to the essentials. When I was traveling by car for a few months I might acquire a little more stuff, but I’d always get rid of most of it when it was time to travel on foot again.

“Hmm. That’s good, I guess.” He went back into the house and I followed him.

Emily was working on the den closet, Craig and Tim were still at work on Craig’s bedroom closet, and Mindy was still working on cleaning her and Steve’s bedroom; their door was open. Steve went in and I poked my head in.

“I’m back. What do you need help with next?”

“Actually,” Mindy said, “I want to talk. Come on in and close the door?”

Steve looked tense, but didn’t say anything. I did as she asked.

“We talked, earlier, about Tim. About how to punish her for going in and cleaning Lisa’s room without permission.”

“The usual stuff doesn’t work,” Steve said. “No sense giving her extra chores when she’s already doing way more than her share, or grounding her when she doesn’t want to go anywhere and she’s quit playing games or watching TV on her own. I said we should stop her from cleaning something, but —”

“I wasn’t sure it was a good idea,” Mindy said. “Blocking her compulsion by force — it might make it worse, right?”

“Yeah, it could. You remember, I told you about that one time I was in jail, a year or so before I met you?” I’d told Mindy, but never Steve, and I wasn’t sure if she’d told him. His expression said she hadn’t, and I regretted giving him more ammunition against me. But this needed to be said.

“Yeah,” Mindy said softly. “You were crawling the walls after a couple of days, weren’t you?”

“You were in jail? What for?” Steve asked, but I didn’t answer. I said:

“After four days unable to go anywhere I was nervous, on edge, jumping at the slightest noise, pleading with the guards every time I saw them... They were about ready to transfer me to a mental hospital when the Nia Clarence Foundation lawyer got me out. I might be in worse shape than Wendy if they’d stuck me there. But the lawyer arranged for me to serve the rest of my sentence walking around the county picking up trash off the sides of the roads, with a locator device on my ankle. I eventually recovered, but I was twitchy and nervous for months afterward.”

“So that’s a no. But if not that, then what?”

I was at a loss. I’d never really had to do this — Mindy and I had separated when Tim was a toddler, before he was old enough to really understand complex punishments or the reasons for them. And I’d never presumed to interfere with the way Mindy was raising him, not when I couldn’t be around for more than a few weeks a year at most. I followed her lead, for the sake of consistency, when Tim started coming on short trips with me when he was older.

“What about cooking?” I said finally. “Is that a compulsion, or just something she likes doing now?”

“I’m not sure,” Mindy said.

“I don’t think it is; she didn’t object to going out to eat because she would rather cook her own meal, but because it would take a few minutes away from cleaning... Try that. Don’t let her help you with breakfast tomorrow, and if she doesn’t get too anxious about that, keep it up at other meals for a day or three — however long you think is fair for cleaning Lisa’s room without permission.”

“Something’s wrong when you’re giving yourself extra work to punish your daughter,” Steve said, more to Mindy than to me.

“Maybe we can figure out something better,” I said, “but that’s all I’ve got for now.”

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The next morning, I made a detour on the way to Mindy and Steve’s house. I stopped by the McFarlands' house, a mile west of my hotel; I remembered how to find the house, but couldn’t find them in my phone contacts. I hoped I would find them at home, and I did.

“Good morning, Leyla,” I said to the dark-haired woman who answered the door. “I’m not sure if you remember me — I’m Jack Harper, Tim Harper’s father?”

“Oh, yes. You took Neal and Tim to the museum last summer, didn’t you?... What brings you here?”

“I’d like to speak with Neal, if I may.”

“Sure... come on in and have a seat. Neal!” she called out, “someone’s here to see you.”

I entered the house and sat down at the kitchen table at Leyla’s invitation. “Can I get you anything?” she asked.

“A glass of water, maybe.”

Neal came in a minute later. “Oh, hi, Mr. Harper. Is this about Tim? Is he okay? I mean, uh...”

“Tim’s dealing with her Twist,” I said. “It’s rarely easy, and Tim’s having a worse time than average, I think. Can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it?”

“Keep going to visit Tim, even if she seems busy and distracted. Some parts of her Twist might make it hard for her to be the friend you’re used to, but that doesn’t mean she needs a friend any less.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll try. I mean, I’ll keep going to see — her. If she’s still wants to see me...”

“I think she does. Another thing: I’m not going to ask you to keep this secret, but you might decide it’s better if she doesn’t know I asked you this.”

He was quiet for a moment, digesting that. “Yeah, I guess so. Mom, can I go over and see Tim this afternoon?”

“Of course, honey.”

“I’ll be going, then. Thanks, Neal. Thanks, Leyla.”

“You’re welcome. I hope everything goes well for Tim.”

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From the McFarlands' I had a short zig-zaggy drive northeast to Mindy and Steve’s place. I found Tim sweeping the pollen off the front porch.

“Good morning, Daddy,” she said, leaning the broom against the porch rail and giving me a hug. “Mom made pancakes. But she wouldn’t let me help make them, and she says I can’t start cleaning up the kitchen until everybody’s done eating.”

“So you found something else to occupy you? Good. Anything I can help with here?”

“No, I guess not. Go ahead and eat, and we can work on Mom and Steve’s bedroom later... they didn’t get it all done last night, and Mom said I could finish it after they left for work.”

I went on in, and found Emily, Lisa and Craig eating at the dining table. Steve’s car had already been gone from the driveway, and I guessed that Mindy was finishing getting ready for work, a guess that was confirmed when she emerged from her bedroom with briefcase in hand.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’ll try to get off early tonight if I can, to work on the last-minute cleaning push.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “I hope we’ll have most of it done by the time you get back.” I glanced at Lisa and Craig, who didn’t meet my eyes; Emily nodded enthusiastically.

Mindy nodded distractedly and walked out the door. I helped myself to pancakes and bacon from the platters on the kitchen counter and sat down to eat.

Tim came in from the porch a few minutes later, and seeing we weren’t done eating, went to work on the bathrooms some more — they never stayed clean enough for her, not for long. I finished my pancakes as quickly as I could; by the time I was done, Emily and the others had already finished, and Emily at least was starting to clear the table. She managed to shame Lisa into helping, and I joined in after I took my last bite. We had the table mostly clear and the dishwasher almost loaded by the time Tim returned from cleaning the bathrooms.

“We’re about done with this,” Emily said, and I added:

“You ready to start on your mom’s room?”

“Sure,” Tim said. But she put a couple more things into the dishwasher before she went down the hall to Mindy and Steve’s room. (Craig had disappeared into his room after taking his own plate and fork to the sink.)

It looked pretty clean to me, though maybe not as neat as Tim might wish. But Tim had a more discerning eye, and saw what more needed doing — at least according to her Twist-obsession.

“This stuff on Mom’s dresser needs to be organized better,” she fretted. “The loose change isn’t sorted and the earrings and necklaces are a jumble. And we need to dust everything, and vacuum the floor. Can you move or lift up some of the furniture so I can vacuum under it?”

“Sure can, sweetie. Do you want me to start with dusting while you organize the stuff on the dresser?”

We’d finished that and had started vacuuming when Lisa stuck her head in, speaking up loud over the noise of the vacuum cleaner.

“Hey Tim, Neal’s here.”

“Oh, hey,” I said, trying to act surprised.

Tim turned off the vacuum cleaner for a moment and said: “Tell him to come in,” then turned the vacuum cleaner back on. Lisa rolled her eyes and left. Moments later, Neal walked into Steve and Mindy’s bedroom and looked around.

“Hi, Tim,” he said loudly.

“Hi yourself,” she replied. “I’m almost done with this, then we can talk.”

I had been working on moving Mindy’s chest of drawers aside so Tim could vacuum under it. When she’d done that, I asked Neal: “Give me a hand putting this back?” He nodded and put his back into it; then we put the drawers back in, and started taking out the drawers of Steve’s bureau so we could move it. Tim turned off the vacuum cleaner and helped us with that.

“So why is your mom making you clean her room?” Neal asked.

“She’s not making me, she’s letting me,” Tim said. “I guess it seems kind of weird —” (Neal nodded, then looked guilty, but Tim didn’t seem to have noticed) “— but I really need the house to be clean, and Mom and Steve don’t have enough time to clean it, so if I want it clean I have to do some of the work myself. They cleaned up a lot last night but they said I could finish today.” Once all the drawers were sitting on the bed, we moved Steve’s bureau aside and Tim vacuumed under it; then we put those drawers back and Neal said: “So... have you had time to do anything but clean since I saw you last?”

“Not really. Well, I did some cooking too, and went to the doctor. Maybe once I get the house really clean I can go do something more fun.”

“I hope so.”

We had to take the bed apart in order to vacuum under it; Neal and I manhandled the mattress off and into the hallway, then detached the headboard and footboard from the box springs and moved them all aside while Tim moved the various boxes of stuff that Mindy and Steve had stored under the bed. Finally Tim could vacuum. When the conversation between Neal and Tim faltered, I asked Neal a couple of questions about what he’d been doing lately, whether he’d acquired any neat insects for his collection, and that got them started again. I was pleased to see that Tim could still take an interest in talking about insects, even if she wasn’t going out looking for specimens right now.

After vacuuming under the bed, we took a break for lunch. Tim wanted to make us all grilled cheese sandwiches, but I reminded her: “Your mother said no cooking for three days, remember?”

“Grilling a sandwich isn’t cooking,” she insisted, with a pout that almost made me give in. But not quite.

“You can grill or toast your own sandwich, if you want,” I said, “but Neal and Emily and I will make our own. You can cook for Neal when you’re not being punished.”

“What are you being punished for?” I heard Neal ask as I left to go to the restroom a few minutes later. Tim started to explain but I closed the bathroom door and didn’t hear all of it. When I came back they were talking about other things.

After lunch I suggested to Tim that we test out her trick some more. She was reluctant.

“You’ve got a trick?” Neal asked. “What can you do?”

She looked down at the dishwasher, where she was loading her plate and Neal’s. “It’s really lame — not like Dad’s tricks, or Aunt Rhoda’s. I sort of know when the house needs cleaning, and where the mess is.”

“Oh.” Neal fell silent.

“Or that’s what we think,” I said. “We need to test it; and if it’s what we think, the people at the Twist clinic can’t really help us with testing, though they might can suggest some ideas.”

“I’m sure Lisa’s going to test it for me sometime in the next day whether I want her to or not,” Tim said sourly, wetting a paper towel and starting to wipe down the counter where we’d made our sandwiches. “The house is messy enough without deliberately making a mess to test my trick with.”

Neal looked around at the spotless kitchen and then at me. I shrugged.

“Just a small mess we can clean up in a couple of minutes,” I urged.

“All right,” she said after a pause. “What do you want to do?”

A couple of minutes later Tim and Neal went out to the back yard; Emily went with them. I waited a minute, then went to the living room and dug through the trash can, picking out four or five pieces of waste paper, and scattered them on the floor. Then I went out on the back porch.

Tim was already walking up the back steps when I stepped out the back door; Neal followed her.

“The living room,” she said, “something on the floor that shouldn’t be.”

“Bingo,” I said. “You relax — visit with Neal some more — I’ll clean up my own mess.”

“I want to get back to work on Mom and Dad’s room,” she said. “I need to finish before they come home, and then we need to clean up the basement, and maybe I’ll be able to leave the house alone long enough to go to clinic.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

I put the trash back in the can and returned to Mindy and Steve’s bedroom, where Tim was straightening out things on the tops of the dressers that had gotten jostled when we moved the furniture. Neal was dusting the books and knick-knacks on the shelf.

“Anything else I can help with here?”

“Maybe not; we’re almost done. Could you start running a load of laundry? There are several things in the bathroom hampers. And ask Lisa if she’s got anything to wash — I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“All right.”

I gathered up all the dirty clothes and towels I could find and went down into the basement to wash them. It wasn’t a full load; somebody — I could guess who — must have washed stuff just a couple of days ago. Tim and Neal came downstairs while I was working.

“The upstairs is pretty much done,” Tim said, “except the window in Lisa’s room. And I should give the toilets another scrub tomorrow morning before we leave for clinic. Now it’s just this area.”

I looked around at the half-basement. It wasn’t dirty or dusty — probably Tim had swept or mopped sometime since her Twist — but it was pretty cluttery. “Well,” I said, “let’s see how much we can get done. Do you think you can go to clinic if the basement isn’t perfect?”

Tim scowled. “Maybe. I don’t think so.”

“Let’s start, then.”

Neal helped us for several hours, and Emily joined us after her post-lunch study break. Around five or five-thirty, not long before Mindy got home, Neal’s mom called and said she wanted him home for supper, so he left.

“Thanks for coming over and helping,” Tim said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said. “I hope we can do something more fun next time, but — if you need help with something, I’m there.”

They stood there awkwardly looking at each other for a few moments, while I stood in a corner sorting a stack of old magazines by title and date, and then Neal went upstairs to let himself out.

“Neal’s a good friend,” I said when he’d been gone a couple of minutes. “Not many guys would have spent a day of their spring break helping a friend clean house.”

“I know,” she said. “I didn’t like to spend all day cleaning when Neal was over, but I couldn’t help myself. There’s just so much to do before tomorrow morning. What time do we have to leave?”

“It’s about three hours to Dallas, and your appointment’s at one... so let’s try to leave by nine-thirty, in case the traffic’s heavier than we expect or something.”

Tim nodded. We continued working as Mindy and Steve got home from work; Mindy came down and talked with us briefly, then sent Craig and Steve to help us while she fixed supper. It was well meant, but five people trying to work in that small space weren’t very efficient, and after a while we sent Craig and Steve back upstairs to work on Steve’s office. We kept working until Mindy called us to supper, and went right back to work on the basement afterward. (Tim was torn for a few moments between doing the dishes and finishing the basement, but Emily volunteered to do the dishes, and Mindy told Craig to help her.)

About ten, Mindy came downstairs and said: “Tim, it’s about bedtime.”

“We’re almost done,” Tim pleaded, “and I have to get this done or I can’t leave the house tomorrow.”

“You need your sleep — you’ve been working nonstop today, it sounds like. Don’t wear yourself out!”

“I can nap in the car tomorrow on the way to the clinic.”

Mindy gave in. “All right. Jack, what about you? You’re the one who’ll have to drive, and you’ve been working pretty hard too, haven’t you?”

“I’d better go back to my hotel pretty soon,” I said. “Another hour, maybe. You think we can finish up by then, Tim?”

“I hope so.”

When I left, Tim and Steve were still working on the basement, tidying up a last few things.

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If you've enjoyed this and the other free stories I've posted here, you may also enjoy these novels and short fiction collection -- available from Smashwords in ePub format and from Amazon in Kindle format. (Smashwords pays its authors more than other retailers.)

The Bailiff and the Mermaid	Smashwords	Amazon
Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes	Smashwords	Amazon
When Wasps Make Honey	Smashwords	Amazon
A Notional Treason	Smashwords	Amazon
The Weight of Silence and Other Stories	Smashwords	Amazon