Annabelle's Lockdown Ch. 01

Grabbing my keys, I headed out the door to get to the shops, hoping that word hadn't leaked yet and that I could get in and out without too much effort. I'd head inland to the major mall about 10 minutes away. Better class of people, more supermarket options.

Waiting for the electric gate to retract, so I could put my car out onto the roadway, seemed to take ages. I'd just put it in drive when a figure stepped out onto the driveway, holding what looked like a cereal box and blocking my way.

"Get out of the way!" I yelled. I revved the engine and edged forward. The figure in an oversized hooded jumper and what looked like boardshorts, remained on the spot. Dishevelled hair hid some of the figure's face, but not the bruise down the left side of its chin.

This area had its fair share of meth addicts and car hijackings were not unheard of. I checked the doors using the master lock button and edged the car further again. That's when the figure's hands moved and turned the cereal box over, leaving the letters T I N K hanging in my way.

TINK.

Holy fuck!

TINK.

I'd not seen or heard that name in over a decade. Only one person ever called me by that word, and that was Timmy. Killing the engine, I went to get out but he'd already come over to the window. Thinking better of the situation, I staying inside and wound down the window a bit, but not too much.

"Timmy?"

"Please Annabelle, I need help. Can you help me... Please?" His voice was almost emotionless, his face pointed down to the ground. All I could really see was his blonde hair and a bruised chin.

A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I hesitated. Was he a meth head come to kill me and take everything to pay his debts? Why was he here? Why the bruise on his face? Why did he look so dirty? What had happened to him? I'd heard his parents had died during in a horrific accident. What did he want here and now, when I was rushing off to beat lockdown?

"Please. Can you help me... Please?" His voice cracked and tears dropped out from under his hair covered face.

"Timmy are you methed up?"

"No, but I need help," He softly replied. The tears still fell. His words and soft voice took me back so many years to when I used to baby sit him. We'd play. I'd read him books. We'd watch 'A New Hope' time and time again. I'd help him like a big sister would help a little brother. I'd even dressed him up in all sorts of costumes and get up. Several times I dressed him up in old clothes of mine. Sometimes it was in a green tutu and we'd pretended to be fairies. I would dress as Tinkerbelle, in an old play costume and be his older sister. We'd fix things and fly around. Until my parents came home. Then we'd go back to normal playing.

"Get in Timmy."

I regretted saying that almost immediately. He stank. He stank bad. I passed him some hand sanitizer.

To say I was a little freaked out by the day's turn of events was an understatement. We drove in silence. I'd was so thrown that I didn't put the radio on or try to get some tunes happening. I sensed more than saw that he was throwing the occasional glance my way.

Leading him into the supermarket and around the isles, I tried some small talk but didn't get much in return. He seemed hesitant and taken. Hunched over almost. It wasn't until I launched a pack of grain waves at him, calling "Go deep young Timmy," that I saw anything like the child I known from so long ago. He easily caught the pack and beamed me a smile. Unfortunately, all that did was show me the extent of the bruising on his face. He'd been beaten. Badly. It also showed me that something else was not right with him. He'd returned to hunching posture before I could think more.

Thankfully the supermarket had been busy without being chaotic. It was only as we headed for the car that people started swarming in. Word was out, lockdown was coming. The toilet paper hoarding would begin again.

We had been lucky here in Western Australia so far with the pandemic. The government had closed the state down early and hard. We'd crushed the virus to the point that we'd gone 300 days without community transmission. There had been a few quick shutdowns since, but life had been mainly back to normal for quite some time. I only knew two people who had caught covid and they'd picked it up overseas.

When we'd got back to the complex, I'd hesitantly asked Tim if he wanted to come up to the apartment. He'd nodded and helped me with the bags of shopping, but staying behind me where possible, which made me uneasy. I felt at risk. I made him sanitize his hands again when we got in the door.

Once we'd put everything away, he looked at me through his deep blue eyes and burst into tears. In between sobs he emotionally explained, "Sorry for this, I had no where else to go."

"Timmy, go have a shower," I said, pointing to the guest bathroom. "Leave your clothes inside the door. There should be towels in the under bench cupboard. There should be a new toothbrush in there somewhere too. I'll see if I can find you something to wear. I'll leave them outside the bathroom door. Then go crash in the guest room. You can tell me about whatever the hell has happened to you once you get cleaned up and get some rest."

He nodded, shuffled off and left me standing there. This was my world up here. I'd just reasserted myself in it, but all of a sudden, I had to share it with someone.

What the fuck?!