House with a Blue Door

By Nick Wisseman

Charles wasn't ready for this.

He knew working at a group home for mentally handicapped residents—many of whom have additional diagnoses like Down syndrome, Tourette’s, and paranoid schizophrenia—would be hard. The hours would be long, the pay would be low, the food would suck.

But he had no idea how much he'd like it. Or how much he'd grow up while he worked there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nick Wisseman
• Release date: Jul 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463684733

Nick Wisseman

Nick Wisseman lives in the woods of Michigan with his wife, kids, ten dogs, sixty cats, and forty horses. (The true number of pets is an order of magnitude smaller, but most days it feels like more.) He’s not quite sure why he loves writing twisted fiction, but there’s no stopping the weirdness once he’s in front of a computer. You can find the complete list of oddities on his website: www.nickwisseman.com

Book preview

Bob Hope Sounds Good

J aps gonna do for you , boy! screamed Dan, spraying spit like buckshot. Gonna cut you open with the hockey players tonight! The gaunt old man hurled his remote at me and slammed the door to his apartment.

My first shift wasn’t going so hot.

IT HAD STARTED OKAY. Dan had been civil enough when he let me in the house a few hours earlier. Who’re you? he’d asked neutrally after opening the blue front door.

I’d been surprised by his clear speech. He looked too old to be a staff member, and his Cubs cap was unprofessionally grungy. But he seemed pretty with it. Was I at the right house? Hi, I’m Charles. Is Jacob around?

Dan considered me for a few more seconds before looking down and mumbling into his white stubble. Yeah ... He here. In back ... C’mon in, I guess ... I get him for you.

Thanks. I caught the door as he let it go – of course this was the right place. Allison, the house supervisor, had told me to look for the blue paint, and every other entrance on the block was an ordinary white or brown. Steeling myself, I followed Dan into the hallway, hoping the rest of my first shift wouldn’t be as awkward.

It was worse.

As Dan opened the door to one of the apartments, he sidestepped to reveal a tiny, middle-aged woman wobbling towards me with both arms extended. Ignoring my offer of a handshake, the little shuffler wrapped herself around my waist. Yhoo mhus’ bhe Char’uhls.

I am. What’s your name?

Ahm Juhlhia.

I tried to gently disengage myself. Sorry, did you say your name was Julia?

Yahh! Mah nahme’s Juhlhia!

It’s nice to meet you, Julia.

Iht’s nihce to mheet yhoo too, Char’uhls! Ah lhuv yhoo!

For crying out loud, Julia. Get off him. A big man with a black crew cut entered the room – a cozy dining/den combo – from the other side, his army boots stomping authoritatively.

I could only assume he was Jacob, and that his tone meant he didn’t think anything of finding Julia glued to the midsection of a lanky blonde stranger. Hi ...

Jacob ignored me and tapped Julia’s elbows. Come on, now.

Ahm sahrree, Jahcuhb mah buhddee, she said blissfully as she released me.

It’s all right. Hi, I’m Jacob. He stuck out a hand.

I shook it. I’m Charles. You’re not going to hug me too, are you?

He laughed. Yeah, she’s liable to grab you at the drop of a hat. Crazy that way, ain’t you girl?

Julia shut her eyes tight as her face scrunched into the biggest smile I’d ever seen. Yahh.

Jacob motioned towards the back. Why don’t you hang your stuff up and I’ll introduce you to the rest of our merry bunch.

Sounds good. It didn’t, but I needed the job. I didn’t have any experience being a residential care provider – or a social worker, or anything remotely similar – but I was broke. So I told myself to embrace the strange and let Jacob lead me into what looked like an office: two desks, several file cabinets, and a healthy dose of disorganization.

Don’t mind the mess. Both desks were littered with pages from the Chicago Tribune. We usually let things hang a little looser over the weekend.

Taking the hint, I nodded and set my backpack under the window. It’s just the four apartments, right?

Yup. The staff unit we’re in now and then three for the residents to share. He headed towards the other ground-level apartment. Allison said Kate was pretty tame for you on Tuesday.

Allison and Nancy, the district leader, had interviewed me at the main office last week. Kate was a resident they’d brought along, probably – as I’d realized afterward – to test how I’d interact.

She was great, I said as I hurried to catch up with Jacob. Allison seemed pretty surprised.

So was I when I heard. Kate’s eyes usually light up at the sight of new staff.

She didn’t seem that bad.

A chase scene blared out of Kate’s apartment when Jacob opened its backdoor. Hey! he yelled. Turn it down, old lady! But the sound of squealing tires didn’t lessen until we’d walked into the unit’s living room and Jacob unplugged the TV.

I was watchin’ that! Kate protested. She was a few inches taller than Julia, but her hunched back made her seem smaller.

Jacob dropped the TV’s power cord. I found this clunker for her at a garage sale last year. Power button doesn’t work – you have to unplug it. But the price was right. Turning to Kate, who was sitting in a fraying easy chair, he put his hands on his hips in exaggerated fashion. The whole house could hear your show, woman. How many times today have I asked you to turn it down?

Kate’s right hand began shaking violently. But I can’t hear anything! These damn things don’t do nuthin, no they don’t! She used her steady hand to tap the side of her head.

Your hearing aids work fine, Kate. You just understood my question, didn’t you?

She stared crabbily at Jacob for a few seconds before turning her gaze on me. You back already?

He chuckled.

I wanted to leave. Do you remember my name, Kate?

Her expression looked blanker than Julia’s.

I’m Charles.

She considered that for several moments, as if weighing my name’s pros and cons. Chuck?

I smiled despite myself. If you’d like.

Glad you’re okay with it, Jacob said, because you probably won’t be hearing ‘Charles’ from her any time soon. She usually calls staff what she wants: Nancy is ‘Antsy,’ Allison is ‘Al,’ and Tamika is ‘Tommy.’

What are you?

Just Jacob. But I’ve been here awhile. He turned the TV back on and wagged his finger at Kate. No more noise pollution, you hear?

She blinked at him and reached for the remote. What’s for dinner?

He shook his head. For you, old lady, nothing but bread and water.

Kate exploded with laughter as Jacob and I headed into the front hallway. You a funny man, Jacob! Oh Lordy, you a funny man!

He shut the door to her apartment and chuckled again. Crazy old bat. Let’s go meet Stacy and Paula before you turn tail. Jacob nodded at the ceiling and began climbing the stairs to the second floor.

It’s fine. Kate seems like she’ll be fun.

Sometimes. And sometimes you’ll want to strangle her ... Hell-O! Jacob pounded on the door of the unit above the staff apartment, waited a few seconds, and walked in.

You scare me, Jacob! The speaker was even smaller and older looking than Kate. She was sitting on a blue couch, her right hand over her chest and a worried expression on her face. The room’s other occupant was stretched out on the opposite couch, this one a faded green. She was normal-sized, with serious jowls. Younger, though – maybe forty.

You guys need a little scaring. Jacob walked to an empty chair and collapsed in it. Been lazing around all day again, I bet.

Yeah, the little lady said proudly before lying down.

Well, I’ll let you get back to it in a second, but first I want to introduce you to Charles, our new staff worker. Stacy and Paula, Charles. Charles, Stacy and Paula.

They didn’t seem inclined to get up, so instead of offering my hand, I just waved. It’s nice to meet you guys.

Hi, Stacy – the smaller one – replied disinterestedly as her eyes started to close.

Hi, Paula – the larger one – echoed timidly.

Jacob smiled slyly. If it’s easier, you can call him Chuck. Kate’s going to.

She would. Stacy turned over, putting her back to me.

This got a laugh out of Jacob. She and Kate have a bit of a feud going, he stage-whispered to me as he stood up. Mostly because Kate’s bossy and Stacy’s the only one who’ll stand up to her. Jacob gestured at the apartment’s back door. Well, these two seem to think they need another ten hours of sleep. Ain’t that right, ya old layabouts?

Bye, Jacob, Stacy said.

Bye, Paula seconded softly.

I trailed Jacob into the back hallway. Is that par for the course?

You mean them not giving a damn about new staff? Or lying around all day?

I couldn’t tell if he was joking. Umm ... Both, I guess.

Don’t feel bad if some of them don’t take to you right away. Jacob’s tone had suddenly become serious – not a joke, then. They’ve seen a lot of staff come and go. And it doesn’t bother me if they want to rest on the weekends. They have to work forty hours during the week, and some of them are as old as my grandma.

I nodded and, unsure how else to respond, switched subjects. Is short hair the house trend?

By default. It’s easier on everyone if we just have the barbers go with a bowl cut. Jacob yanked the next apartment’s door open and yelled, Where are you, my little pork chop?

The answer came in the most cartoonish voice I’d ever heard, each indignant syllable drawn out with agonizing deliberateness. I – am – not – your – lit – til – pork – chop – Jay – cub – and – I – do – not – want – to – be – dis – turbed. But the voice’s owner, a fifty-something African-American, had a more distinguished appearance than anyone else in the building. His suit and tie made me feel distinctly underdressed, even though Nancy had said casual wear was fine. This resident looked classy.

Except for the blood speckling his neck and cheeks.

Seriously, Carter? Again? Jacob shook his head, apparently bothered only by the cuts and not the contradictions. You’ve already shaved twice today. You really think you missed a spot?

I – was – just – may – king – sure – I ... I – was – just – may – king – sure – I – got – ev – err – ree – thing – now. He shifted to get a better look at me, allowing me a glimpse of the disposable razor he was holding, which was bloody but not at all hairy. Who – are – you?

I’m Charles, Carter. It’s nice to meet you.

Carter nodded. Yeah ... Nice – to – meet – you – too – Char – uhls.

And then his intense body odor overwhelmed me. It smelled like neither he nor his suit had been washed in weeks.

Jacob let me marinate in the funk for few a moments before breaking the silence. Would you like to tell Charles why your voice sounds so funny?

My – voice – does – not – sound – fun – nee – Jay – cub! It – sounds – good – be – cause – twelve ... Be – cause – twelve – years – a – go – I – de – side – ed – to – talk – like – Bob – Hope.

I blinked, stared hard at the bloody, smelly, impeccably dressed black man, and took the bait. Why?

Be – cause – he – sounds – good.

And there you have it. Jacob’s grin was enormous. But we should leave Carter to his bleeding. Nothing too deep, all right my little pork chop?

Jay – cub, Carter growled in a deeper timbre, betraying a bit of his original voice before thinking better of it and shaking his head. Yeah – yeah ...

As soon as we were out of earshot, I asked the question bothering me most: Is that safe?

Nothing you can do about it. Jacob started descending the front stairs. He’s got a right to shave himself, and hiding the razors would be ‘infringing’ on it. Best you can do is keep tabs on him and hand him a washcloth when he needs it. Lisa’s with her mom, and Dan said he was going to the park, so that’s the whole circus for now – but speak of the devil.

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