An Intervention – Jenny 14

[For back story go here: Story so far at 12 June 2020 and more recent Jenny episodes]

Peter had been given a number of tasks to do. As the only person left at home on a day to day basis it was, said Jenny, time for him to step up and make the world – or at least the house – a better place. She didn’t want fireworks, she wasn’t looking for a miracle, just the washing-up in the machine, the occasional hoover round the living room and you never know, maybe an attempt at loading the washing machine.

It had been made easy for him. Specific piles of clothes in appropriate colours and materials. Dirty dishes placed in the bowl ready for his attention. Sometimes there was even a list in dry marker on the white board attached to the fridge just to keep him on track. Pater thought it was reasonable enough, although there was a part of him that resented the fridge list. He sensed this had been done to ensure he couldn’t say he didn’t see it. There was no way he could get through a day without opening the door to food.

But Peter knew that even with the incentive of doing good for other people, he equally needed to know there was something in all this for him, and so as he completed the tasks allotted he ensured he found things that would help his day at the same time. 

Collecting the washing for the day served as an excuse to get out of the current pyjamas (if smell dictated) and put them directly in the wash. This generally meant he was able to stay in the same pair for most of the week, sacrificing only two days to another, less comfortable pair while the preferred pair washed and dried.

An excursion to the upper floor also meant he could routinely pick up his phone charger from his bedroom, ready to plug in for the second session of sofa/phone inaction once he’d loaded the washing machine and set it to go.

Getting to the washing machine meant going into the kitchen and in the kitchen was the battery charger. If he was awake enough when this happened, and he made sure he was through carefully timing the trip for mid-morning, then he could off-load the spent batteries from the xbox controller and load his dressing gown pockets with fully charged replacements. He had also perfected the art of throwing two slices of bread into the toaster on his way in and, having loaded and set off the washing machine, primed the washing-up machine and tended to anything else on THAT list, retrieve his perfectly done toast which could be buttered, stuck on a plate and carried back to the front room.

Walking back to the sofa meant casting a casual look towards the front door and assessing whether the post delivered today was worth picking up. There may be a magazine or school communication which he should be bothered with, but if not he could leave it there and one of the others would take care of everything. No point in expending energy that didn’t need to be expended.

And so back to the world of sofa for the next part of the day. Xbox, YouTube, box set of something or other, maybe an educational show if he accidentally stumbled over something. The computer on the table would occasionally throw a challenge at him from school but such things could be despatched fairly quickly and if he didn’t feel like it the challenge would go unmet. In any case, so called ‘school’ would be over at the end of this week and the weeks of summer stretched out in their usual uncertainty, although they were more uncertain than usual and he was, by now, entirely used to that.

Peter had got it all worked out. Until there was a knock at the door. Deciding at first to ignore it, his phone then buzzed to life, irritating his reclining pose and causing him to stir.

“Yeah?” he said to it.

“I’m outside.”

Peter took a couple a seconds to process what this meant, but having done so he went to the front door, remembered how the lock worked and opened it.

Outside stood Jude, a girl his age, casually and half-gothically dressed including a facemask with a skeleton's mouth. She pulled this down to smile at Peter. Although the smile she gave faded as she took in what stood before her.

“Jesus,” she whispered, and then: “I didn’t know you were this ill.”

“Who’s ill?” asked Peter, squinting as his eyes slowly got used to the light outside. “Just, you know, staying safe.”

He smiled, but to be honest was feeling a little faint now so he leant against the door frame. “Do you… wanna come in?”

Jude shook her head. “Nah, mate. But seriously you need to come out.”