The Caretakers

Scott should have known they were in for a strange summer the minute he and Donna arrived at the house in California. “Who would paint a house flamingo pink?” Donna had said. But they were bedazzled. As soon as the owner of the house left in the airport shuttle van, Donna whirled around the enormous living room, giggling. Scott caught her and said he wanted to squeeze the stuffing out of her. “Can you believe this?” she cried in a loud whisper. “Ours for the whole summer!” “You don’t have to whisper!” He pinched her mouth shut, then kissed her, but she jerked away from him. Their marriage was in a forlorn state. Since Scott was laid off from Harmony Tech Industries six months ago, they had grown irritated with each other. She was touchy and distrustful of him. They had been scraping by on Donna’s half-time job at a chain drugstore in Kentucky, and they were behind on the mortgage of their dinky wood-frame house. But now by some miracle they had been hired as caretakers of a snazzy hacienda in the San Gabriel Mountains while the owners traipsed around Italy all summer. Scott and Donna were responsible for the upkeep of the house, the lawn (including shrubbery), the swimming pool, and a vegetable garden. There was also a small ginger dog named Slingshot, who came with a set of precise directions, like a recipe. Scott’s cousin Terry had arranged the deal. Terry had lived in California for ten years, and the owner’s wife was her yoga instructor. To save money, Scott and Donna drove straight from Kentucky to California, stopping for only one night at a motel. Somewhere in the desert, Scott said to Donna, “I’ve always believed there was something out West meant for me, but I never thought I’d get there. Now—” “You’ll find it,” she said, snapping a pretzel. “It’ll have your name on it.” The L.A. freeways had them going in circles, causing them to arrive two hours later than promised. The owner was in a hurry to leave for the airport, and his wife, the yoga instructor, had gone earlier under some circumstances that he did not explain clearly. He was a small nervous man, chalky pale, wearing a caterpillar-green leisure suit. The airport shuttle arrived as he was giving them a slapdash tour.