Agoraphobian Memory Of A Man Named Sheldon

Part 2

 

   The catepillar that was Sheldon, who laid like a grown fetus day-dreaming of happier times at the beach with his brother, awoke from his reverie with a start. An annoying buzz from the apartment's front gate had wrenched him away from such a wonderful recalling, he gave a grunt and flung his cocoon wrapping away to answer. He did not care to notice what he stepped upon, rubbing his eyes and gristled chin of two days worth of unshavened beard, or what time it was during the day, being enclosed in the darkness of his own agorphobian world.

    BUZZZZ! BZZZ!

   "Comin'! I'm coming, hold your..." he cleared his throat, and pressed the intercom to listen. "Who is it?"

   "Let me in Sheldon, dear." A woman's voice answered, speaking with an accent reminiscent of someone from europe. Like Mrs. Doubtfire, except she was really a woman, and this was a woman who rarely loved to clean or visit.

    Great! I totally forgot, damned lady comes every Thursday to make me feel like s**t... "Gladys! Is it Thursday already?"

   "Are you goin' to let me in or am I climbing the emergency stairs and do some spiderman stunt to get to you?? I have some things you need to sign from last year's incident."

   Gladys was always to the point, this was not just a weekly visit to tidy up, there was also some legalities she hinted at. The electrical sound of the gate's unlocking replaced Sheldon's smart retort, and he dragged himself to the front door of his apartment to unlock it for her. He did not even care to open the door for her, she knew it would be unlocked, and he rarely did. Expectations and routine have become Sheldon's rut, especially on Thursday visits with Gladys, the lady-knight come to emotionally lance him.

   Sheldon plopped himself on his couch, removing some unwanted disbris for Gladys to take her seat, switched on the television, turned down the volumn and watched with a nervousness as the door opened to allow the outside world in. It was always this precise moment when she was enetering that became a slow motion, Matrix-revolution-like passing of dread, when that door opened, that Sheldon hated. He always half-expected death to bumrush in with a crew of gang-bangers or pack of hungry wolves. He held his breath, as he always did, just as the hallway outside was exposed.

   "It's only me." Gladys smiled, quickly shutting the door, knowing how the open door dismantled the young man. Sheldon inhaled, and looked at her half-grinning.

   "Can you lock that latch?"

   "Please??" She finished, obliging by turning it to the right, and also placing the chain to add more piece of mind for him.

   "Thanks."

   "Not at all... How are things?" Gladys began to take her usual round about the apartment, opening blinds, and windows to let in some fresh air.