Contents Undisclosed

by Rebecca Holtzman

Harriet wasn’t sure she heard the door chimes above the hum of the vacuum. She shut off the machine and looked through the peephole.

“Oh, no, not again,” she thought as she made the familiar gaudy print of the shapeless cotton housedress. Reluctantly she opened the door.

“Hi, Paula. Come on in. Excuse the mess. What are you collecting for this time, muscular dystrophy?”

“Uh-uh, that was last week, remember? Today it’s mental health. What’ll I put you down for?”

Pudgy, smoke-stained fingers held a pen in readiness. Harriet reached for her purse and extracted some coins.

“That’s all I have right now. Gosh, I don’t know how you find the time for all this. Doesn’t it bother Bill that you’re the only one in the building they ever stick for collection?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mind. Anything I want to do is okay with him. Besides, I volunteer for it. It breaks the monotony.”

                                                          ***

Anne answered the phone on the fourth ring.

“Hello…Oh, Paula. Hi…Gee, no, I can’t. I’m expecting company tonight…Tomorrow? Well, actually I’m kind of tied up all week. Look, maybe you’d better get someone else to go with you. Tell you what. If it turns out I can make it next week, I’ll let you know. But if you can get anybody else, my feelings won’t be hurt. Thanks for asking me. Bye.”

Good heavens, doesn’t she ever stay at home? And doesn’t she think I have anything better to do than run all over town with her?

                                                          ***

The weatherman had goofed again. What had been forecast as “light sprinkles” had arrived as a downpour of flooding proportions. You had to be crazy to go out in that mess. Either that or have a kid who was stuck in school without a raincoat or galoshes.

“I hope he appreciates what I’m going through to get him home dry,” mumbled Julia, as she treaded her way across the street.

S-C-R-E-E-C-H!
A car skidded and stopped just short of her and another woman who was further impeded by several bulky packages she was carrying.

“Oh, Paula! I didn’t recognize you. You going to school, too?”

“No, both my kids are home with colds. I’m going to visit my cousin.”
“In this weather? Does she live in the neighborhood?”

“Not really. Two bus rides away.”

“For Pete’s sake, why don’t you call her up and cancel it? She’ll understand.”
“She doesn’t even know I’m coming. I roasted this turkey and did up a batch of cookies.”

“She sick or something?”

“No. I just thought I’d surprise her.”

                                                          ***

As the day camp bus pulled away with Laurie waving energetically, Edna sighed blissfully.

“Best babysitter I ever had, that day camp. Now for a few hours of lovely relaxation.”

“Say, that’s a good idea. Joy’s in nursery school, so I’ve got a few hours to spare, too. Want to go to a movie?”

“Uh, thanks, Paula, but I’ve seen everything around here.”

Really have to watch my words around her, Edna thought. She means well, I guess, but I just can’t relax around her. Don’t know what it is.

“What about going downtown shopping? Hacker’s is having a sale. That’s where I get these housedresses.”

“Two days before Joe’s payday? You kidding?”

“What about two days from now?”

“Look, Paula, I can’t promise. Let’s play it by ear, okay?”

                                                          ***

Sara frowned as she pushed her loaded shopping cart out of the supermarket. Thirty-five dollars, and for what? A few years ago I could have bought out the whole store for that.

At the sound of the siren she stopped short. A fire? An ambulance? Instinctively, she followed the crowd.

“My God, that’s our building!”

As she came nearer to home, she heard excited whispers.

“Jumped from that window”

“Saw her hit the ground.”

“Why would anybody do that?”

“Who was it? Who?”

Sara pushed her way through the crowd. The police had mercifully covered the body with a blanket. Onlookers stared at the mound on the sidewalk, trying to determine its identity. A gust of wind flipped up a corner of the blanket, and Sara caught sight of the gaudy print of a shapeless housedress.

Oh, no! Not Paula! It couldn’t be. She was so outgoing and friendly…

                            Local Housewife in Suicide Plunge

Mrs. Paula Stedman, 33, of 924 Leeds Avenue, jumped to her death yesterday afternoon from the window of her ninth-floor apartment. She is survived by her husband, William, and her two children, Joy, 5, and Philip, 12. Mrs. Stedman left a note, the contents of which were undisclosed.