Steven stepped out of his house onto the porch into the cool morning air. The sun was just coming up and the darkness was receding, giving the neighborhood a blue hue. He put his hands on his hips and stretched back slightly, easing sleep from his muscles. He was a little sore from pickleball the other night, but that’s how he and his buddies stayed in shape at their advanced age.

He took a few casual glances down the street and saw a woman rounding the corner, likely on her morning walk. She didn’t look familiar to him.

As he shuffled down the drive to pick up his newspaper, Steven pulled his phone out of his sweatpants pocket. The woman was slowly making her way closer. She appeared to have those fancy earbuds in – the kind without the cord that connect to a device like magic. Steven never considered those; he would misplace them for sure.

He placed the newspaper under his arm, and unlocked his phone with both hands. Another casual glance towards the woman, she was just a couple houses down now. She didn’t look familiar to him. He clicked on the secret text app and brought up a thread titled ‘pickleball’. 

She was across from him now, and when he glanced up again, she had looked in his direction. He awkwardly waved while managing to not drop his phone or the paper. She cheerfully waved back, continued to walk past him, and her pony tail swished from side to side.

“Pickleball, heading towards your house now Mitch,” Steven typed into the text field, and pressed send.

From his own bedside table, Mitch’s phone pinged with a message. Mitch groaned, sat up slowly in his bed, and picked up his glasses before reaching for his phone. He had a special chime for his pickleball buddies, so he knew it was an important message.

“Just wole up, won’t male it,” Mitch typed clumsily. He groaned again as the message was sent. The keypad was so small and his fingers were so big, typos were bound to happen and autocorrect never did its job. He corrected himself, “Just WOKE up, won’t MAKE it!!”

“I’m in,” Jim messaged. He had been awake for a little while already, and had already had a cup of coffee. He was ready to go. Jim was the youngest of the group, he seemed to never tire out, and he never turned down an opportunity.

“Okay, drive this way, quickly,” Steven wrote back as he headed into his house. “I can meet soon.”

Jim abandoned his coffee on the kitchen counter, grabbed his keys, and stopped in front of the mirror by the door. He mussed his hair a little and settled his glasses on the end of his nose. Hunching his shoulders, he passed a little older than he was, and those drama classes in high school always came to good use at times like this. 

He stepped outside, locked his front door, and got into his car. He quickly maneuvered towards Steven’s house. The nice thing about the pickleball group was that everyone lived in the same community as each other, and no one was more than a few streets away from the others. Most were divorced or never married, and a couple of the guys were widowed, so they were all single guys, able to come and go as they pleased with no one keeping track of their whereabouts.

Jim drove slower than the speed limit down the street, and turned left on Jasper Ave towards Steven’s house. Sure enough, a half a block away was a woman walking towards him on his drivers side. Jim continued the slow drive toward her, but as he approached, he started to panic. 

This wasn’t right. Steven knew the rules to their game. They weren’t supposed to play with regulars, and Jim definitely knew this woman. She had moved onto his street a few months ago and worked long hours from home. She had a couple kids, a dog, and she seemed like a nice person. They had become friendly, just in passing as neighbors do, waving on their way to the mailbox bank, or out watering their yards. 

Jim slammed on the brakes and knew he looked suspicious. His eyes were darting everywhere – should he attempt a 3 point turn and go back? Should he go to Steven’s house and give him the business for wasting his time? He bowed his head and closed his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t recognize him as she passed by.

“Jim?” She was tapping on his window now, looking concerned. She had taken her earbuds out and was holding them both in one hand. 

Jim pressed the button for the window to come down just a few inches. “Hi?” he croaked out. 

“Jim, I thought that was you! Are you okay?” she asked. She placed her free hand on her chest. “It’s me, Caroline, I live a few houses away from you.”

“Oh,” Jim said. He swallowed a few times. His throat was suddenly dry. Engaging with a regular was risky business and the longer they were out here, the worse it could get for him. The neighborhood would start to wake up soon and more people would be heading out on their way to school and work. Against his better judgment, he made a quick decision. “Caroline, I… well, this is so embarrassing.”

“It’s okay, Jim, what happened?” She looked so concerned, so honest, her kids would miss her. But they were older; they would be fine.

“Caroline, I’m not sure why I got in my car. I just… I don’t know.” After mussing his hair he looked a few years older than he actually was, plus dressed in his shabby sweats, it made him seem incompetent and unable to take care of himself.

“That’s okay, Jim. Do you know how to get home?”

“I think so. I don’t know. Can you help me? Is it any trouble?”

“No trouble at all!”

“Thank you,” Jim muttered. 

Caroline headed around the front of the car. She was too fast, there was no time to message his pickleball group without her seeing. She hopped in the front seat and fastened the seatbelt.

“If you head straight, we can actually just turn right, and then I’ll direct you around from there,” Caroline instructed. 

Jim reached in the pocket of the door for a cloth. He had prepared it before he left, and it was slightly damp. It would do the job, he just had to be careful. He held the cloth in one hand as he eased off the brakes and slowly started to drive.

“Do you… um. You look a little sweaty from your walk?” Why was this so much easier with a newbie? There was no reason a regular should throw him off this much. They barely even knew each other, they hardly had any history. Yet, rules were rules, and he silently cursed Steven for getting him into this mess.

“I’m fine,” Caroline said cheerfully. She had her head turned toward the window.

“Just, here,” Jim said, passing the cloth to his other hand so he could reach her better. 

Caroline seemed surprised, and she tried to lean away from him in her seat, but there wasn’t too far she could go. He aimed for her brow as if he were going to wipe sweat away, but at the last second he pressed the cloth to her nose and mouth as he slammed on the brakes. She startled for a moment and reached up to pull his hands down, but she wasn’t strong enough. She must have breathed too much in, being so alarmed, her eyes drooped faster than he expected. 

Jim knew he couldn’t be out on the street much longer, especially with the sun now rising above the tops of the houses. He kept the cloth pressed to her nose, for good measure, with his right hand, and drove home carefully maneuvering with his left.

Finally, he reached his house, took the cloth away from Caroline, and used his hand to jam on the garage door opener. He cruised into the garage quicker than he meant to, nearly skimming the top of his car with the bottom of the door in the process. He was being reckless and he had to get a hold of himself. He turned the engine off once he was parked, and pressed the button again so the door closed behind him.

“Steve, we said no regulars!” Jim jabbed into his phone once he got it out of his pocket. He was still sitting in the car, Caroline next to him, limp in her seat.

“I don’t know her!” Steve wrote back. He tossed his newspaper onto the table, the headline warning everyone in the community that women were being kidnapped and killed, with no suspects in custody. 

“I do! Pickleball at my house, no excuses. Everyone is playing this round. I will not go solo!” Jim typed out. 

Jim swore this would be the last time. They almost got caught last time, and he wasn’t going to take that chance again. He looked at the woman in his passenger seat, worried and certain that he was in too deep with his pickleball friends to stop now.

– Michelle Balogh