Page 43 of Eyes Like Angel

As her petite form disappeared, all I could do was to replay my restrained conversation with her and the hesitation in her pale emerald eyes.

***

Hours on end, the new worker was under strict orders from my mom. Needless to say that Eva was not having a great—all perplexed and concerned on making another wrong move or a single step. Mom kept an eye on her, listing her dos and don’ts to her new worker.

Eva. Who would’ve thought it’s her?

I sat back and watched how my mother instructed Eva with basic cleaning. So far Eva handled all of her cleaning supplies and knows each and every single item she carried in the black bucket, it colored me impressed.

Mom introduced Eva to the areas in the household—the basics so far were living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom, guest room and our private rooms upstairs.

Soon, Mom watched her, making every note each time Eva does something, and Mom chimed in eventually.“Don’t do this,” “Don’t do that,” “Here, I’ll show you how to clean the counter in a proper way;” “You’re doing it wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Absolutely wrong,” “You’re putting plates on the wrong section,” “Has anyone ever taught you how to clean or did you make up stuff as you go along? Did you trick peopleinto thinking that you’re a good cleaner? I might as well have to cut your salary, missy!”

Disapproved at my mom’s teachings, I ended up arbitrated, pretending to play a referee, I had Mom’s attention solely focused on me as I spoke. “Have her clean elsewhere, somewhere she thinks it’s easy to start,” I suggested, my head jerked at the stairs.

She groaned in surrender. “Fine, but I’ll see if she does a job well.”

“Guess we’ll see,” I remarked.

Eva’s back got backed off. On the other hand, I hated seeing her overwhelmed in sadness.

Although, I have to see if Eva’s intentions on keeping the estate clean was a real challenge.

Mom said to Eva, “Get the rooms cleaned upstairs. First it would be the bedroom, then the closet and bathroom. Bjorn will let you in, if he feels like it,” she ordered, sipping her jasmine tea.

Without an objection, Eva compiled the cleaning supplies and ascended the spiral staircases in her sluggish form.

Once Eva was gone, Mother made a ‘humph!’ sound, releasing from her lips in grimace. “She should straighten her posture like a lady. Then again, all maids should be like that. Quiet, docile, obedient and sullen; they should all be treated like dogs and stayed where they should be.”

As if that statement lifted the weight off of her shoulders when she felt no threat, like her past confrontations and disgust regarding to nannies and secretaries were gone from her radar, emerging victorious.

Mom wore a sincere wide grin at the end.

14

Eva

As I clambered my way to the spiraled stairs, I settled into one of the rooms. It was not difficult—clean and organized their belongings and have their personal rooms dusted.

While Mr. Rivers’ room and closet needed no cleaning, Mrs. Rivers, on the other hand, was in a slight mess. I scooped them up in my arms and set the laundry, being taught by one of the neighbors on how to use the laundry and dryer machine, and folded them, color-coordinated and tucked into the drawers as her shoes tucked on the shelves in the walk-in closet.

After several hours on cleaning their room, bathroom and closet, I headed over to Bjorn’s door, twisting the doorknob, the motion was stiff, which meant it was locked. I tried knocking on the door, but no answer came, so I went over to Adrian’s room at the end of the hall.

As I entered, his room was dark and messy, all cluttered and cloistered in litter and small chunks on his desk, as the clothes dumped on the floor, not knowing whether this is intentional or whatnot.

Lord, give me strength, I prayed before started my duties.

The first task was easy; I cleaned his collections on the shelf, one with the Iron Throne, and anime figurines and cases of his favorite video games, dusted away with a cloth and a spray.

One hour later, before the sundown, I finished organizing and vacuuming his room, and sorting his clothes, categorizing them in his closet, and scrubbing the stains on the mirror and the glass door for the shower, I slumped down on a bed, Iexhaled; my limbs were in complete exhaustion, hoping I get a huge reward in return as my cleaning supplies were neatly tucked in.

But—

Across the room, one of the drawers by the work desk was sticking out. I went over to shut it, but paused in my track, spotting several possessions inside. My hand itched to unseal behind it. I took a quick peak, hoping Adrian wasn’t behind me. The coast was clear and I opened it, and taking out his pastel green folder, and opened it, revealing several poems he wrote, written in cursive.

My sweet angel,

Why you must lay in the dark,