The Package

The package on my doorstep had my name, but I definitely didn’t order it.

It sits on top of the red step outside of my front door. As the fiery summer sun glared down, I stare at the strange welcoming. Its a large box, rather plain looking, made from cardboard. The box looks new, the materials fresh and clean. What stands out is that the label with my name and address is hand-written.

Feeling my curiosities piqued, I pick up the box with two hands, take it inside and close the door behind me. The box is surprisingly light for its size but still has some weight to it. I jiggle it around in my hands trying to guess what it could be, as it hit against the sides of the box, I shake my head. I have no idea.

I sit down on the sofa; I'm home alone as my housemates are out working. The sound of people chattering outside roll in through my open window, the fan is turned on and the quiet buzzing of its mechanical turning could be heard.

I look at the box on my lap, eager and confused and begin peeling at the Sellotape that sealed it. It lifts away easily, whoever had packaged it had been neat and careful. After the tape is removed, I lift the cardboard flaps and peek inside. On top of a layer of lilac tissue paper sits a card without an envelope. On the front of the card is a bold red heart. I feel the corners of my lips smiling, it appears to be a gift for me, but I am still clueless as to who sent it.

Opening the card, I see a message scribbled in slightly messy handwriting. “From your secret admirer”, the card reads. I let out a thoughtful hum, feeling my chest racing from the excitement. I have been single for a while, not really trying to date and I don’t really have any love interests. I own a popular bakery in town, and a lot of people know who I am. I wondered who had my address to have sent me the package.

Feeling slightly nervous, yet flattered, I lift the lilac gift paper and put it to the side of my sofa. Hiding underneath the tissue paper is a small wooden box. It looks handmade, the wood also slightly stained with two splotches of water or liquid, though it doesn't exactly look dirty.

The wood has been cut to create a delicate pattern on the top sides of the box. The box is clearly crafted wisely, the wooden rectangle, secured down with a flap made from the wood. I gently open the flap, slowly revealing the contents inside.

Sitting at the bottom of the wooden box, is another card, completely plain white this time. I pick up the small card, opening it up to read what’s inside. In the same handwriting, was a time and address.

6PM

151 Sherman Avenue,

OX1 51E

Strange, I thought to myself, I can’t recognize the address either. I turn the card over in my hand, trying to see if there’s anything written on the other side of the card, though there’s nothing. I bite down on my lip, feeling the panic lift through the pit of my stomach. The feeling rises to my throat, tough, dry and restricting. I get the sense that I have become heavier.

I put the package, the box and the cards on the coffee table, and search for my laptop. I power it on, open my internet browser, and search for the address. The address is the location of a delicatessen. I wonder if my secret admirer is asking me out on a date.

I have been quite lonely, in ways the thought is tempting, almost romantic, though, something at the back of my mind tells me something isn’t quite right.

I take my phone from the coffee table, and call my friend and employee, Honey. She picks up after the first few rings.

“Marlene? Hey! What’s up girl! I thought you were busy working on invoices today?” I hear Honey’s cheery voice coming from the end of the line.

I take a large inhale and let of an audibly deep exhale.

“Honey, I got a package today,” I tell her, completely cutting away from her conversation. I feel sick and uneasy, unable to think straight.

“Oh, how nice! What did you buy?” She questions, sounding excited for me.

“I don’t really know Honey... I didn’t buy anything. There was a knock at the door and when I opened it, the package was sitting on my doorstep,” I tell her.

“Well? What was it?” She says, her tone more uncertain now.

“It was a large cardboard box, with a card reading; ‘from your secret admirer’ and then there was a wooden box with another card, that said 6PM with an address,” I answer.

“A secret admirer?” Honey asks, sounding confused. “Well, do you know who it could be?”

I shake my head, “No idea,” I tell her through the phone.

I hear her taking a deep breath, then the line goes silent, I too am unsure of what to say.

“Do you think it could be someone from the bakery?” Honey says helpfully.

“That’s what I was wondering, I mean, I get some attention when I’m working at the bakery, but I can’t understand how anyone could get my address,” I reply.

“Marlene… I promise you; I haven’t told anyone anything about you,” Honey says.

“I know Honey, I trust you. I just can’t understand,” I answer.

“Well, you’re not going to go, are you?” She speaks.

“That’s why I called you. What if the secret admirer is actually Prince Charming?” I say.

Honey lets out a small laugh. “True, I mean it is strange, yes, but what you’re saying is also possible,” she voices.

“Well, what would you do?” I ask her, letting out an expectant sigh.

The line goes silent for a moment as Honey thinks. “Well if I received a package from a secret admirer, I have someone I would hope it would be…” she begins saying. “Are you hoping its someone special?” She continues.

“Not at all, I’ve been far too busy with the business to pay attention to these sorts of things,” I answer.

“Maybe we should drive by together later at 6PM and see if we can find out who it is,” Honey suggests.

I nod my head, “yes it does sound like a good idea,” I agree.

“Well, I’ll drive to your house for 5PM and we can go together. Let’s take your car, you never know, he might be really handsome, and you decide to stay. I can always call an uber home,” Honey tells me.

I smile, Honey has always been supportive of me, she’s not only my business partner but also my best friend. I hired her at the bakery 6 years ago and we’ve been pals ever since.

“Thank you so much Honey,” I thank her.

“Oh, any time my dear, maybe you should dress up nice, just in case, hey?” She says.

“Hmm…Perhaps I should… maybe that would be stupid,” I declare nervously.

“Let’s just hope it’s Prince Charming!” Honey exclaims, laughing sweetly at the end.

“And if it’s not?” I say, trying to remain positive.

“If it’s not…Well… we’ll go back to yours and decide then,” Honey tries to advise.

“Okay Honey, thank you for being there for me. I’ll see you at 5PM,” I agree.

“Just call me if you need me before 5PM, Marlene,” Honey tells me.

I nod my head, “Okay Honey,” I say and put the phone down.

*****************************************************************************************

4:57PM

There is another knock on the door, the second one for the day. I get up from the sofa and move towards the front door, slowly unlocking it.

“Marlene!” I am greeted by Honey’s beaming face, as soon as the door is wide open.

“Hey Honey, thanks so much for coming by,” I greet her back.

Honey moves towards me and raises her arms out, pulling me into a hug. She rubs my back in large motions and moves me side to side playfully.

“Oh, any time, sweetheart,” she says, pulling out of the hug, “I guess you might be feeling a bit nervous but in a way I’m kind of excited,” she tells me.

“Really?” I ask her, moving away from the door and directing her into the living room. “I am nervous yes, but I’m also excited. I hope it’s someone I’ll like,” I admit.

We sit down on my sofa. “Would you like a drink?” I ask Honey.

“I’m good for now, thank you,” she declines, “but what will we do if it’s someone you don’t like?” She asks.

I shrug my shoulders. “Well, I wouldn’t want them having my address,” I say.

“So, we’ll call the police,” she says.

“Do you think so?” I say, I hope that I haven’t been meddled into a drama of a night. This will be a busy weekend for the bakery, and I haven’t the time for it.

“We can’t have some crazy ax murderer having your address,” Honey says.

“You’re right, I just really hope that doesn’t happen,” I tell her.

Honey nods her head, understanding the position I am in.

“Thinking about it now, even if it was a nice gesture, it was also kind of unnecessary and complicated,” Honey says lightly.

“It was, they could have given a better indication of who it could be,” I agree.

“Well, let me see it!” Honey exclaims.

I get the package and the cards and box from a shelf I had put them on and hand them to Honey. She looks at the items carefully, touching them as though they carry diseases.

“Very strange,” she decides, “apart from the heart on the card there seems to be nothing special or romantic about it. No flowers?” Honey voices her opinion.

I feel the nerves accumulating in my stomach again.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, Honey,” I say quietly.

Honey looks me up and down, dressed in a white dress and sandals, with my hair done nicely and my makeup done. I feel silly sitting here now, all made up. The hours before when I first called Honey, feel like a pipe dream.

She looks apologetically at me.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she says.

“But look at this mess,” I say. “Now I have to do something. I can’t have some stranger having my address,” I decide.

“Yes, especially if they’re leaving strange packages on your door,” Honey corresponds. We sit in silence, thinking for some moments.

“Well, should we go or not?” Holly enquires.

I sigh, “We may as well go,” I say.

******************************************************************************************

6PM

The streets aren’t yet dark, it’s the summer months and the sun is still standing high in the sky. It doesn’t look the scene to be stalked by a crazy ax wielding murderer. The pavements are quite empty, the area is private, close by to a residential area and there aren’t many shops. From my car windscreen, I can see the delicatessen where 151 Sherman Avenue is located.

“I can’t see anyone standing around who it might be,” Holly says.

“Nor me,” I reply.

We spend a few minutes in the car, watching the streets closely, for anyone or any car pulling in that might be my secret admirer. No one distinctive comes by at all. When the time reaches 6:10PM, Holly sighs loudly, making a suggestion.

“Do you think we should just get out of the car and go look through the window?” She says.

I think about it for a moment. Part of me wants to feel no worry, part of me wants to have the confidence I’ve had before, though something has shaken me.

“I don’t know Honey…” I begin speaking.

“Are you scared?” She asks quietly.

I shrug my shoulders. In a way, I don’t want to worry Honey, so I just agree.

“Let’s go there then,” I say, hushed, very slowly.

Honey nods her head, her face stern, she prepares herself to get out of the car. We get out, beginning to walk towards the delicatessen, Honey right by my side.

“Remember, it might be Prince Charming and then you’ll hate me for ruining your style,” she says to me.

“I’m sure a real Prince Charming will feel stupid for mistakenly making a woman bring her friend to a “blind date”, during the age of catfishing,” I try to say light-heartedly.

Honey gives an uncertain laugh. “Is this a catfish? What even is this?” She wonders aloud.

“I have no idea,” I say, feeling tired.

As we reach closer to the delicatessen, there is a cool breeze in the air, a nice contrast to the overbearing heat before. There are sounds of birds chirping and cars driving down the road. Once the delicatessen is only meters away, I smell a waft of coffee and warm panini’s, something almost comforting. With the wavering smell, I feel my nervousness draft away, how nice it would be to sit down and have a coffee chat with Holly with a good sandwich.

As we approach the shop window of the delicatessen, Honey moves towards the window faster than me, so she gets there before me.

She turns around, “It’s closed and there’s no one inside,” she says.

Bang!

And so strangely, Honey’s face distorts with pain, her face vulnerable, desperate, gasping. I’ve never seen such fear before, her face overtakes me with shock. Then she screams and I feel myself collapsing and as I fall downwards, so does Honey, her body falling on top of me.

I hear a car screeching; it sounds as though it parks not far from the delicatessen.

“Marlene? Oh Marlene? Are you okay?” She screams in hysteria, she’s holding onto my face, trying to stop the tears as she looks behind her shoulder.

I hear the sound of a window smashing.

“It’s going to be okay, Marlene, oh God, it must have been some burglars,” she wails, her voice breaking as she struggles to speak through her lamenting.

“My phone’s in the fucking car,” she says, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes closing as she tries to control herself.

I feel the adrenaline draining with my blood, the numbness fading away, now I can feel the sharp pain of the bullet in my back.

“Just hang in there Holly, oh God, just hang in there. Somebody help me!” She screams.

I hear the car drive away and Holly’s voice fades away too.