It began in October; at least that’s when Bee became aware that something was going on around her house. The house was a large Victorian with a porch that went all around to the back ‘L’ that had been added at some point in the past. The ‘L’ held the laundry room and the kitchen. It was a warm and cozy place, unlike the rest of the house. Dark uncomfortable furniture filled the front parlor and the dining room. She had tried to bring some comfort to the den she fashioned out of the back parlor, comfortable sofas and a TV. Upstairs were four bedrooms, Bee had the back bedroom that overlooked the yard, pretty yard it was too. Huge magnolias, azaleas, camellias and maple trees created a shady and cool place to sit out in the summer. But summer had passed and leaves covered the yard waiting for Bee’s rake.

Bee was around thirty that year, I believe. Bee was a pharmacist you know, worked downtown in the old drug store on the corner. Her daddy was the town doctor for as many years as I can remember. When she finished college and her training she came back home to look after her parents until they passed on. They left her the big monstrosity of a house. Now Bee worked hard, but you know she didn’t make that much money so she had decided to take in a boarder. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Oh she worked hard on those two rooms, made them into a suite, quite nice really; had a 180 degree view if you looked out all the windows. She placed an ad in the paper. Now, there’s no local paper here, only a newsletter goes out every two weeks, no the paper she placed the ad in was… oh well, I can’t tell you can I, let’s just say it covered a large metro area. It ran one weekend and produced a lot of phone calls. In the end, it wasn’t suitable, too far out, stairs were a problem, and the rent was too high. Anyway, she became discouraged over the whole thing. That was when she began noticing the cigarette butts.

Bee was a creature of habit; she woke up at 6:30 every morning, walked out to get her paper around 7:00, sat in her den reading the paper and drinking her coffee and went upstairs to shower and dress. At 8:45 every day except Saturday and Sunday she went to work at the drug store. She drove her little car across the tracks and parked in front in the forty-five degree angled parking spaces. She went home for lunch at 11:45 and returned at 12:45. At 4:00 she got back in her car and drove home. She shopped on Saturday, cleaned her house on Sunday and worked around in her yard. It was the trip to the paper box one cold October morning and she didn’t think much about it at the time; you know butts are found everywhere. No it was the trip to the mailbox at lunchtime that caught her attention, another butt. It was the way they were bent you see not stamped out but bent. She picked it up and threw it away.

Saturday morning Bee carved a pumpkin and placed it on her front porch along with a wreath on the door. There would be few if any trick-o-treaters. The town was really dying out, no young people moved here any more and children were scarce. Only visiting grandchildren provided the laughter and high-jinks around the neighborhood.

She got her broom out and swept the porch sending the leaves running for cover in the azaleas. She found another butt, on her porch of all places. Now she was not skittish, Bee lived here all her life except the college years, but this was beginning to concern her as you might imagine. There was a wrought iron fence around her property, not that she locked the gate or anything, but somebody had been on her porch smoking.

Later on that same day she found another butt back near the pet cemetery in the corner of her back yard. She began thinking about getting another dog, maybe a big dog. If you found out someone had been around your house you probably would call the police. Bee actually thought about that, but then the thought of Jack Rogers (not his real name of course) stopped her. She didn’t like him and I don’t blame her, he was a sleazy man who would have liked to spend some time with Bee if you know what I mean. Bee made sure her doors were locked and turned on all the lights outside that night. She made a couple of phone calls to people she thought might help her find a dog. But of course she never got one because he showed up Sunday morning outside her front gate.

She arose as usual on Sunday morning, pulling an old ragged out cardigan over her shoulders and opened her door to go get her paper. She stopped halfway across her porch; the man was standing outside her gate dressed in an Atlanta Braves cap and bomber jacket. He wore jeans and was smoking a cigarette. A chill ran up her spine as you might imagine and it had nothing to do with the cold morning. She looked around and saw no vehicle; who and where did he come from? What did he want? She would soon find out he opened the gate and approached her carrying a zipped up leather case.

“Good morning, Bee Canton?” (well, I’ll give her a last name, not her real name of course.) He walked all the way to the porch and gave his name, “I’m Jim Beason and I’d like to talk to you about the room you have to rent.”

“Well, let’s sit out here,” she said and offered up the white wicker settee. She sat on the swing and narrowed her eyes at him. He was a nice looking man, clean shaven; blue eyed and had a nice smile which he was displaying as he unzipped the case on his lap. “Let me ask, have I talked with you on the phone.” She thought maybe one of the callers had changed their mind about the room.

“No, Miss Canton, we have never spoken on the phone.” He was pulling out some papers and a small leather case which he unfolded and handed to her. “This will explain who I am.”

She regarded the case and opened it. FBI it said, she looked up quickly. “Am I in trouble?” she felt foolish for asking such a thing, but it was the first thing that came to her mind. I mean FBI here in…I can’t tell you where, just know it would be a strange thing for the FBI to be there. “I’m sorry I don’t understand?” She opened it again, just to make sure and closed it. His photo matched the face before her. She watched him put his cigarette out with his thumb, bending the filter. Now she was wary and she should have been, oh yes, she should have shown him the gate at once. “You’re the one, how long have you been hanging around my house?” she wanted to know.

He looked her in the eye, “Ever since the ad ran in the paper for the room to rent. Let me explain myself to you Bee.”

What followed was a detailed description of her movements, her habits, who she knew, her age, where she went to school, how long she had lived here. All this information culled by him had been sent to Washington DC. Her house had been chosen as the safest place they could find. They had a person who needed a safe haven for a while, oh it would only be for a month, then they would move him again and for this they were prepared to offer a sum of money for her expenses. He handed her several papers that spelled out exactly what she was to do in return for this sum of money. Simply provide a room and meals for a month for this unknown person. No information was included in the papers she read that told her who this person was.

“Mr. Beason, this all sounds very strange and I would want to know who is going to be a tenant here. I mean I don’t want some criminal or mafia person here. As you have pointed out, I am alone here I have to be careful.”

“Bee, we wouldn’t put anyone here that would pose a threat to you. He’s not dangerous in that sense. I’m afraid I cannot go into details, the less you know the better. I guess I’m asking you to trust me on that.” Jim smiled at Bee. He must have been very personable, very persuasive and very good looking I should imagine. Bee told him she wanted to think about it and he told her there was no time. He handed her a paper to sign and a check with her name on it for $100,000.00. Well now what would you do in her place I ask? Exactly so.

He asked to see the room and she led him upstairs, he walked around checking windows, doors, looking for a phone outlet and pronounced it perfect, he even complimented her on her choice of comfortable furnishings. He also had a tour of the rest of the house when he came to the back door he turned to Bee and said “One thing I will ask of you Bee, no one and I mean no one must know he is here or even that you have a boarder understand? He will not be leaving the house once he is here until we come for him okay?” He walked out the door and she followed him. “I’ll keep in touch with you, and this is a number where you can reach me should you need to.” He handed her a card with his name and phone number, the number was an 800 number he explained and she was to say his name and would be connected to his cell phone immediately. Bee looked alarmed and he only gave her a reassuring smile back.

Bee wanted to know when this visitor was to arrive and Jim told her he was here now. Just then a dark blue van pulled up behind her house and two men got out and went around to the back and opened the doors. Two black leather cases were set on the ground and the man stepped down on to the pea gravel walkway to her backdoor and turned to look at her. He wore a black raincoat, jeans and running shoes; his hair was longish curling around his head and over his collar. He did not look happy to be here and indeed he wasn’t, he was far from home and didn’t know what day it was or for that matter where he was. He reminded Bee of a captured animal caged and taken in the night when she first saw him. He wasn’t what she had expected now was he?

Chapter 2

The man was escorted to her back door and Jim led the way upstairs carrying his luggage with Bee following in their wake. When the two escorts had left to go back to the van Jim introduced her to the man as John Smith. He only nodded in her direction and walked over to one of the windows looking out over the field across the side road. Jim took Bee’s arm and they stepped out into the hallway and he closed the door. Bee wanted to know something about the man of course and the only thing Jim would tell her was that he was Australian. He hadn’t committed a crime and was only under their protection. She followed him down the stairs feeling uneasy about the whole thing. It had happened so fast she hadn’t had time to consider what this might mean for her; having a man secreted in her upstairs bedroom for a month. The motor was running in the van outside and Jim walked to her back door. He assured her everything would be fine and it was only for a month, he would be in touch and then he left. She never saw him again.

Bee as you recall was on her way to get the Sunday paper when this strange scene began less than an hour ago. She walked out and retrieved her paper and took it back to the den as was her usual practice. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. This was too much to take in without a cup of coffee. She pulled off the ragged out cardigan realizing she was still in her pyjamas. There was the man upstairs, would he want coffee? She sat down on her sofa pulling the check from the pocket of her pyjama top. He must be an important person for them to pay her that much money for a month’s rent. Indeed he had become an important person.

She turned her head toward his closed door as she made her way to her bedroom to dress. Jeans and a sweater; later she softly knocked on his door. He only opened it a crack, “I’m on my way to make breakfast and wondered if you’d eaten this morning, or maybe you’d like some coffee?” she asked. He opened the door a little wider to show he was dressed in his jeans and a blue pullover sweater. Bee thought he was nice looking if a bit weary. His eyes were the blue-green of the ocean and he had a neatly trimmed beard. He said he had eaten but coffee would be nice and could he have it in his room. She smiled a little at his accent and said yes he could but that meals would be served downstairs. He nodded and closed the door.

Bee had never had anyone staying in her home and wasn’t quite sure what she should do for him. She found a tray with butterflies over the top of it and fixed a little coffee service; cup, saucer spoon creamer and a little sugar bowl. She poured the coffee in a flask and took it up the stairs. She didn’t knock for obvious reasons but called his name and he opened the door to take the tray, but she walked into the room and set it down on the coffee table in front of the love seat in the bay window. “I hope you’ll like it here,” she said and smiled at him. He hadn’t moved from the door and gave her a sad look.

“Thank you for the coffee.” He said softly. She put her hands in her pockets realizing he didn’t want to talk, and walked out of the room closing the door behind her. She thought he was an odd person, but then she didn’t know what he’d been through did she?

I’ll tell you some of what I know about John so you’ll understand how it was. He was a government agent who came across some information he shouldn’t have. He had been hunted on three continents barely escaping with his life on the last, that’s when the FBI stepped in. Oh they knew about him, but couldn’t touch him until he crossed the Atlantic. He’d been threatened, tortured, oh yes, and questioned for three months. In all this time he only told the truth as he knew it. You might wonder why they left him in this unmentioned town alone. He had been micro-chipped; they could trace him when they wanted to. Right now they didn’t think he wanted to go anywhere.

There were others looking for him.

Bee ate her breakfast at the table reading the Parade section as was her custom on Sunday morning. Her eyes kept going back to the check which seemed to follow her from room to room. She saw herself taking it to the bank and depositing it in her account and talking to Mary across the teller’s window. She couldn’t do that could she? How would she explain the money, because Mary would ask her how she came into it and she couldn’t say. She would have to open another account somewhere else maybe in the City, which shall go unnamed. She wouldn’t be able to spend it around here people would be wondering how she could afford a new car or a new freezer.

Small town living has its drawbacks. Having a boarder would have explained a few expenditures, but she couldn’t say she had one. People around here noticed any variance in routine and discussed it in the drug store while she filled their prescriptions. She ran her hands through her tousled blond hair that she had cut every six weeks over at Betty Boop’s Beauty Salon. Friday, she decided, she would leave work and go into the city and open an account at a different bank.

Bee dug around in her freezer looking for something to cook for Sunday dinner. She found a beef roast and put it out to thaw. Now groceries would have to increase around here, she would be feeding two. She saw herself ordering two steaks, two chops. Mr. Butler would want to know why she wanted two because she never bought more than one at a time. She thought she would start shopping at the large supermarket on the outskirts of town. It would be commented on but she could make up some reason at the drug store when asked why she wasn’t at the butcher’s on Saturday. You see what her life was becoming just thinking about it.

She had the roast going and a pan of root vegetables on the side and decided to rake the leaves from her front lawn. She had them bagged and pulled to the street when her elderly neighbor came by with his little terrier on a lead. They talked the weather for awhile, he looked up shading his eyes, and asked her if she had a visitor. She of course told him no, he thought he’s seen someone at the window. No she assured him he had not. Now she would have to tell John to be careful around the windows. Bee washed up in the kitchen and cleaned off her table, stacking the papers on the bureau by the door. She set out two plates and silverware and napkins. She made gravy, not something she would normally do, but a nice touch to the roast she had prepared. She walked up the stairs to let John know dinner was ready.

He followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen taking in everything as he went. Bee filled his plate and set it before him. She sat down across from him and picked up her fork. “I hope you like roast beef, it’s all I had on such short notice.”

“It looks wonderful” he said and picked up his knife and fork. “Taste’s wonderful too.” He did, she noticed, clean his plate and she asked if he’d like some more but he declined. She offered a cup of coffee and he accepted. He was quiet during the meal and her comments went largely unanswered.

She told him about the window and he gave her a nod and a dark look. “Yes, I’ll be more careful.” He answered. “The newspapers, would it be okay if I had a read?”

“Of course, take them. There’s a TV in the den if you’d like to watch anything tonight.”

“No, thanks, I’d just like something to read, I haven’t seen a paper in a long time.” He seemed to stop himself from speaking and looked away. Bee told him there was a library in the front parlor and he could help himself to anything on the shelves. She also told him there would be a paper each day if he’d like it. She usually left by nine and would be back by twelve for lunch. He looked back at her and the look said more than the words. “Thank you.” That bothered her, why would he be grateful for a newspaper? Why indeed. The poor man had not seen a paper in three months. He couldn’t tell her this of course; he had to be careful what he said. At least with a newspaper perhaps he could figure out where in the States he was and what month it was. Sad isn’t it?

Bee thought about him as she did the dishes. He had an air about him, what was it, foreign? Well he was from Australia. Something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Fear, he was frightened yes. The FBI was protecting him they said, she wondered from what. Only a month, she would get through it and then figure out how to spend her money. She finished up the dishes and plopped down on her sofa and turned on the TV. She liked to watch the news and then a movie before she turned in on Sunday’s. There had been a plane crash over the Potomac and she watched the coverage, a small private plane had exploded; all aboard killed. No details were given about the passengers or the pilot. She watched the other news and settled down for the movie