Mindf*cked

Josephine thought she'd never fall asleep that night as she tossed and turned in nervous anticipation of Palma eventually coming to join her in bed. She would have loved this decades ago. But now? Although her voice was muffled through the closed door, she could hear Palma on her phone and could tell by the tone that she wasn't too happy at the moment, despite not being able to make out what she was saying. Finally, as anxious as she was, sleep claimed her. When she awoke the next morning, she quickly glanced at the other side of the bed—but it was empty. Had Palma ever gone to bed? Josephine sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She went to the adjoining bathroom to pee, pulled her robe from her overnight bag, threw it on, and stepped out of the bedroom. "Palma?" Nothing. "Hey, Palma?" Still nothing. "Palma, I'm up now. Where are you?" Silence answered her as she slowly trudged down the hallway. A sense of aloneness came over her, and she had a strong feeling she was truly alone in the house. She checked the kitchen, living room, the other two bedrooms, and the second bathroom. All were empty. Josephine shrugged as the growling in her stomach reminded her how hungry she was. She wanted to get some food in her before trying to figure out where Palma had gone, which probably wasn’t very far. Josephine spotted a loaf of bread on the counter and took a couple of slices. She placed them on a napkin, then found some margarine in the refrigerator to spread on them. Still hungry and thirsty, she found a glass in a cupboard above the sink and poured herself some water. Then she helped herself to an apple from a large bowl of assorted fruits sitting on the table in the center of the kitchen. As she bit into the fruit, she headed into the living room and glanced at the sliding door at the other end of it. She crossed the room and parted the vertical blinds. Perhaps Palma was sitting on the patio with a cup of coffee, but she saw no one outside or in the small yard beyond. Perhaps out front, then? Maybe watering some flowers? She crossed the room once again and placed her hand on the knob of the front door. It was locked. Expecting a deadbolt she could turn to let herself out, her hand reached for it—but there was none. The door had a lock-and-key type of mechanism, but there was no key. Josephine looked on the small table nearby but found nothing. Next, she checked the kitchen counters. Nothing. Josephine quickly brushed her teeth and ran a comb through her hair. Then she got dressed, gathered her things in a neat pile, and hurried back to the slider. She would simply go out back and around to the front from there. She put her hand on the handle of the slider and tugged—but the glass door wouldn't move. Certainly this doesn't require a key, she thought to herself. And it didn’t. There was a simple knob to turn and unlock the door. Only the knob wouldn’t turn. She bent forward and inspected the door, unable to see what was holding it in place. There was no metal rod jammed in the tracks or anything like that. She should have been able to turn the knob and open the slider—yet it wouldn't budge. What the hell is going on here? she wondered. Where the hell is Palma, and why can't I get out of her damn house? She stepped back and ran a hand through her hair. This was silly. Totally ridiculous. There had to be a way out. Just then, she heard a strange vibration coming from somewhere inside the house. She moved back into the room, trying to locate the source, when she realized it was her phone still in the bedroom. She had turned the ringer off but left it on vibrate. She hurried into the bedroom and snatched up the phone. It was from an unknown caller. "Hello?" she said after accepting the call. "Hey, girl, what's up?" She recognized the voice immediately, even though she didn't recall giving Palma her number. "Hey. I just got up not too long ago, had a couple of pieces of bread and an apple, and thought maybe you were outside watering plants or something—but I can't get out either door." "Go into the kitchen and open the top drawer between the stove and sink." Josephine did as instructed, assuming that would be where the keys were located. She rummaged through the drawer, but after a few seconds she said, "No key." "I'm not asking you to find a key," Palma said. "Look in the very back of that drawer. See the loose photo of the kids?" Although still confused and clueless as to what was going on, Josephine reached into the back of the drawer and pulled out a snapshot of four children, none of whom bore any resemblance to Palma. "I see it. Three girls and a boy. They seem to range from the early twenties to... I don't know, maybe about ten?" "Andrea. Angelia. Alexa. Alexander." "I don't understand," said Josephine. "Are these your kids?" "That they are, ma'am." "They don't look like you." "Their fathers were white and had light eyes." "Were? Palma, I don't understand. Where are you, where are the kids, and how do I open these doors?" Josephine was answered with a giggle. "This isn't funny. I'm serious, Palma. Where are you? I need to get to the airport in just a couple of hours." "Relax, babe. You'll get there." "But where are you?" "I'm at work." "At work? You never said anything about going to work today." "I never said I took a shit either, but I did." Palma laughed heartily. Josephine didn’t find it funny. "I'll be home soon. Boss is calling me. Gotta go." "Wait!" But Palma had ended the call. Josephine stared at the phone, desperate for answers, as the light eventually dimmed and then turned itself off, going dark and silent. What the fuck?