"Secret Agents" by Desiree Kendrick — Our December 2023 Bronze Medal Winner
“...gently compelling...”
“ ...a tale of hope...”
Meet Desiree
Desiree’s writing has been published in literary magazines in Canada, the U.S. and the UK. A list of her publication credits can be found on her website at desireekendrick.com/published-work.
She loves to travel (except in a pandemic). She always jots in her travel journal, where you will find more than one humorous tale recorded in old-fashioned ink.
Secret Agents
the unedited story by Desiree Kendrick
As soon as Kurt opened his car door the manure stench infiltrated his nostrils. He scowled at the house across the street and the rusty wheelbarrow piled with moist dirt. When he’d bought his house two months ago the realtor had highlighted the tranquil setting.
“The leafy trees whisper in the breeze while the birds harmonize,” she said, failing to disclose the downside of spring gardening.
Retreating indoors, Kurt dropped his keys in a wooden bowl. Buyer’s remorse plagued him. Privacy was a valued commodity. There were no beer-infused weekend parties or screaming kids to disturb his sleep. Yet, he sensed his neighbour observing his every move. Her lacy curtains swayed when he stood at the kitchen window. Spies like her worked at his former workplace.
He watched with apprehension when the postman stopped to chat with her. Those two were devious but he would out-smart their antics. Kurt refused to open his mail believing it was poisoned.
Over lunch he conquered the daily crossword puzzle. In the distance a dog barked. A truck horn made Kurt jump and he peered out the window. Sunlight pierced his eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked aloud.
A man in overalls jumped out of the truck and waved to his neighbour. Their voices carried but Kurt couldn’t discern their conversation. For the next hour the wood chipper machinery growled. His neighbour’s yappy dog barked repeatedly. Kurt paced. Last week the annoying woman had used the weed-eater to trim her grass after eight o’clock at night. Kurt covered his ears. His head pounded. He swallowed his medication and retreated to his bedroom. All the voices in his head convened. ‘Take the dog inside – Hurry up and clear the brush – Send a nasty email to the realtor!’ He never made it to the computer. The medication made his eyelids heavy. He closed his eyes.
Groggy after a three hour nap, Kurt stumbled to the kitchen. The Arborist had gone. A purple sunset eased the afternoon into evening. Such beauty was deceiving when danger lurked on the horizon. When his phone rang he waited his customary four rings before he lifted the receiver.
“Hey Kurt, how you doing, bro?”
“She’s watching me and forcing me to move,” said Kurt, his voice agitated as he spoke to his younger brother.
“Who’s watching you?” David asked.
“That woman across the street, she’s tracking me. I’m not safe here.”
“Did you take your medication today? It keeps you calm. Everyone wants the best for you. You like your new house, right? You always wanted to live in the countryside.”
Kurt reviewed all the reasons why the house was perfect. He had space, surrounded by nature. No one cared if he wore the same shirt for three consecutive days. There was a bedroom for his brother’s visits. It was less claustrophobic than the city condo. Most important, it was far away from the spies he’d worked with at the warehouse.
“The realtor lied,” said Kurt, brushing his scraggly hair off his forehead. “Government agents are everywhere. She left a package on my doorstep. I threw it out. When are you coming?”
David paused before promising to visit. “We’ll empty more boxes next weekend. We can hang your art. Did you paint this week?”
“I sketched a self-portrait,” replied Kurt. “I placed it in the upstairs window to confuse the spy.”
The alarm on his watch sounded. He needed to eat dinner and take another pill. David would be happy if he followed his instructions. “You promise to be here next Saturday?” asked Kurt.
“Yes, I’ll drive down early so we have the entire day. For now, ignore the neighbour. We’ll make a plan together like when we were kids. I’ll be the Commander this time and you can be my First Officer. We can draw a map together, outline your territory. Did you finish the crossword today? I’m stuck on forty-two down.”
Kurt’s shoulders relaxed. For the next ten minutes they traded crossword answers.
“What’s a 5-letter word for awesome?” asked Kurt, giggling. “D-A-V-I-D!”
Ha ha, you’re a funny guy,” replied David.
***
Three weeks later, the brothers stood in Kurt’s kitchen making turkey sandwiches.
“Are you tired?” Kurt asked noticing David’s contrived breathing.
“No, I’m good. I’m not used to all the manual labour fixing your place up.”
“That doorbell camera is super,” said Kurt. “They can’t see me but I can spot them coming.”
“If it’s important they’ll leave a note in your mailbox,” replied David. “The new gate establishes boundaries. I spoke to the neighbour like we discussed.”
“What about the dog?” Kurt squinted before inspecting his sandwich for audio devices.
“I can’t stop the dog from barking but he’s not talking to you. He’s communicating with the stray cats. Just like you he’s marking his terrain.”
Kurt peered out the window. He chuckled repeating the mantra David expressed when they’d mixed the concrete for the gate. “Some fences keep people in, others keep people out.”
David threw his arm around his older brother. “That’s right. And a gate is all you need to send a message. If you want visitors you unlatch the gate. When you want quiet you lock the gate. If you fall and hit your head again dial your pocket phone. I’ve recruited your neighbour as our secret agent. Beth’s a talented field operative, a retired nurse. You can trust her. Flick your lights and she’ll rush over. She’ll help you plant a garden if you’re interested. The green herbs are medicinal.” David squeezed Kurt’s shoulder.
The industrial workplace accident had brought them closer under the most unfortunate circumstances. “If you want to invite Beth over for coffee unlatch the gate. Most days she’s home. She’s on our team now.” David lowered his voice. “Some doors squeak; some doors need oiling to function.”
Kurt leaned into David. “Thanks for installing the security gate. It’s my safety shield. My head hurts.”
“Mine too,” sighed David releasing his breath.
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