Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

“Hey!”

My head shot up to search for who called. I saw Jackson start to walk out from his house, hopping down the porch steps. I sighed and drifted my attention elsewhere.

“Do you need help?” Jackson offered once he had reached me.

I finally decided to look back at him. “Sure,” I drawled bitterly once I realized I couldn’t manage to do it all myself. I dropped my purse and bag in his arms and walked off with one suitcase. I heard his feet as they shuffled through the grass behind me.

“So,” I started to say. “Why do you live all the way out here?” I set down my suitcase once I stepped through the front door and started to scrutinize the place before taking another step.

“I like the peace and quiet out here." His voice came from close behind. I turned around to see him right behind me.

I jumped back, startled. I hissed, “Yeesh! Do you always have to be so close to me?”

“Just waiting for you to step out of the doorway.” I moved out of his way with a grumble and he started to walk into through a hallway with my things. “Follow me.” I picked up my bags and reluctantly obeyed.

The short hallway ended up leading to the family room. The room was neat and well put together. The walls and carpeting were neutral colors with a few picture frames on the wall. Then he had a few shelves around the T.V. that held many different kinds of instruments. There was also a worn in couch placed in front of a coffee table that had a few miscellaneous things. Such as some keys, a book, and cigarette carton.

“Sorry,” Jackson apologized, he grabbed the carton and slid them into his back pocket. Then picked up the book and keys. He twirled the keys around his index finger as he spoke. “Forgot to put these away. Hope smoking doesn’t bug you.”

I shook my head, even though it did to some extent. He smiled and started to walk again. “Good.” I trailed on after him once more.

Around the family room was a staircase that I followed him up. The stairs led us into the middle of the dark hallway that led into both directions, left and right. I stopped walking.

“Why is it so dark? Are you some kind of night crawler?” I caustically mocked.

As he continued on, he flicked on a light. “That better?” He turned around and I realized he was already by a door. I walked a little quicker to catch up. He opened one of the two doors on this side of the hall.

“Here you are,” Jackson announced as I walked into the room. “I assume you have other bags. I’ll go grab them.”

I took a few steps into the room and checked it out. The room was small and simple with tan walls and some wooden floor boards that creaked a bit when you walked on them. I imagine the house must be pretty old. The full-sized bed was against the same wall as the door. Across that on the other wall was a large window with curtains over them. The wall adjacent to those two had a wooden dresser.

I dropped my purse on the bed and laid down next to it.The mattress squeaked a bit and it reminded me of my old bed. Except these blankets were softer than the ones I brought along. I guess I won’t need those. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. So this is my new home now.

“It’s not much. But I hope it will work,” Jackson said as he placed the last of my bags on the ground.

I gasped out of fright and sat up immediately and blinked. “You come out of nowhere too much.”

“A ‘thanks’ would have sufficed.”

After a few moments of awkward silence had passed, I finally said something just to break the anxiousness. “So are you going to give me a tour?” I said, jokingly. I had run out of anything else to say.

“Sure,” Jackson agreed and started to walk out of the room.

“I-I didn’t mean it seriously,” I back tracked. He turned back around and came closer. I stiffened my body.

“No, no. Come on."

“I’m going to be sitting right here for the next...well however long I live,” I attested, and scooted back on further on the bed. Jackson rolled his eyes airily and seized my wrist and pulled me along.

He led me down the hallway only a few steps before he said, “Here’s the bathroom.” And pushed open the door. It was tiled white with grey, granite counters that had some deodorants and cologne and a tooth brush holder on it. Multiple towels were slung over lion’s foot bathtub and on the floor. “I believe it won’t be too far of a journey from your room,” he teased.

I slid my wrist out from his grip. “Hmmph,” was all I managed to mumble out.

“Are you always this cheery?” He asked, obviously trying to be witty. I scowled back at him.

I ignored the many things I wanted to blurt out and simply asked through gritted teeth, “Where’s your bedroom?”

Jackson grinned perversely and stuck his arm out in the other direction. My eyes followed his hand as it pointed to a singular door at the opposite side of the hall. “Right there. I thought you’d like to stay in the guest room, however.”

I put my hands up. “I’m definitely not sharing a room with you anytime soon. You’ve got it all to yourself, buddy-boy. That’s for sure.”

“I won’t take that to any offence,” Jackson noted casually with a half smile.

“We’re not getting married. Just so you know. Not now. Not ever,” I mentioned sharply after a second had passed.

“This isn’t a democracy. This is a dictatorship.” His voice was annoyingly monotone.

He stared at me impassively for a moment before he took a hold of my arm and intertwined his with it. As he pulled me down the hall, I continued talking. “First you come out of nowhere, twice, and now you’re dragging me into your room. You’re some kind of creeper, Rathbone. Aren’t you?”

I ripped my arm away from his as he opened the door. “My humble abode." He held the door wide open for me. I was hesitant at first, but then I walked in quickly and went to the other side of the room.

To my surprise, it was actually nice. Thick, beige carpeting with faded blue walls, covered in old movie and band posters. At the far end of the room was a queen sized bed with a white comforter that covered it. Over to the other side was a dresser like the one in my room. Beside the mess of random clothing articles, guitar picks, a few bottles, and more random artifacts, and the fact that the bed wasn’t made, it was strangely relaxing. “Hm, it’s actually cozy in here.”

The whole house was entirely comforting. I kind of forgot all of the stresses I had previously. Except the ones that marriage and Jackson brought on to me. But my family was completely out of my mind.

“Did you expect a dungeon for a night crawler like me?” he mocked. I scoffed in return.

“Too bad the family room seems to be the only clean room so far."

“That’s the way it is around here. People don’t usually come upstairs. But hey, at least the guest room is clean.”

I didn’t say anything back to that and continued to look around. Beside the bed was an acoustic guitar. I must have stared at that for a while because Jackson said something again.

“Her names Annabelle,” he cited as he walked over to picked it up. "It's one of the many instruments I have throughout this house, especially in the basement. But she's my favorite." He strummed away for a moment. I smiled for half a second when I recognized the tune as House of The Rising Sun. He started to sing a bit. But the lyrics weren’t the ones to the song.

“What’s that?”

“House of The Rising Sun. to the words of Amazing Grace. By The Blind Boys of Alabama,” he cleared up.

“Ah,” I nodded. I started look around some more. Jackson waited patiently with his hands on his hips. As I passed a white rocking chair, I noticed a plush blanket that was draped across it. I ran my fingers along it. It was extremely soft and I wanted to take it with me. But I kept walking. I felt like I had been placed into a country house. I surprisingly liked it though.

I heard a faint noise and jumped. “What was that?” I frantically asked. Jackson laughed.

“That’s Dean.” Right as he says that, a grey cat walks out. It meowed again.

“Does he bite?” I asked. I hesitantly poked my hand out at him slowly.

“Nope. He’s nice. Isn’t that right, Dean?” Jackson said. The cat mewed in reply.

I scratched the top of his head for a moment and he started to purr. I smiled down at it and scratched his chin. I haven’t had a cat since I was a small child. “So you live by yourself with a cat. Are you light in the loafers, Jackson?” I badgered.

He ignored my comment. “I tend to prefer dogs. This one’s my ex-girlfriend’s. I got stuck with him,” he explained. I continued petting the creature for a minute.

“So what do you even do out here? This is crazy. It’s just you and this cat. You have to do something! Don’t you get bored?”

His grin was crooked. He chuckled a bit and ran his fingers through his bedheaded hair. “I watch movies sometimes. Go into town for a bite to eat with friends. I have a band. That’s pretty entertaining for me.” He stopped talking after the part about the band. I imagined he had more to say, but just gave up on it.

“Aren’t you supposed to go out partying and stuff. You’re not going to young forever.”

“I do that on occasions. I just like this better. Clubs aren’t really my scene all the time. Plus the more amount of people, the higher chance you get noticed.” I forgot, he actually was an actor and there was a chance that I'd be seen as his new wife.

I didn’t really have much to say after that, slightly feeling woozy after the idea of this marriage going public, let alone even happening. The conversation died down, so I started to peek around some more.

After a few minutes, I turned around and looked back at Jackson. He seemed to be off in space. I tucked my hands in my jean pockets and rocked back and forth on my heels as I waited for him to say something. Anything. But, no. He continued to gaze thoughtfully at me.

“So,” I blurted out with a shrug. “Any where else you’re going to show me?”

He blinked a few times and shook his head out slightly, clearing his thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. But I need to go into town for a bit. I don’t really have any groceries here. That means nothing to eat. Do you want to come?”

“No,” I said a little too curtly. I eased up. “I mean, I’m fine here.”

He passed me on his way out. “Make yourself at home while I’m out.”

I nodded. I followed him out of his room and down the hallway until he went down the stairs. I wandered off into my room.

I sat in silence until I heard the door shut fully behind him. I then decided to go explore downstairs a bit more. He said make yourself a home, right?

Once I ran down the stairs, I looked around in the kitchen. It had dark, wooden floors and whitewashed walls. All of the appliances were silver and the counter tops were white like the walls. It even had an island counter with two tall chairs next to it.

I peeked in the fridge. He was right, there’s not much in here. A few bottles of beer and water, some lunch meats, cheese, and nothing really else besides some condiments. What did he eat?

As I walked around some more, I noticed a wrapper. I picked it up and carried it around until I found a trash can. On the counters were some bigger bottles of whiskey, a cutting board, and a knife set. Maybe he does cook. A couple more steps around and I found a trash over by the back door and I opened it to toss in the wrapper. Ah, a pizza box. So that’s what he eats.

After awhile of lolling on the couch. I decided to do something. I got the sudden idea to clean, which I rarely get. I immediately decided to go back up to Jackson’s room since that room was the worst. It would also give me an opportunity to snoop.

I started picking up some trash and got the idea that maybe he didn’t want me to go through his things. Oh well. I’m going to be here for a while so he better get used to it. And if not, then that’s his fault. Really, I didn’t care if he got mad or not.

I found a laundry basket in the back of his closet and started throwing clothing into it. I tossed in a few shirts that looked like they needed a wash and tossed them in. I squealed as I accidentally picked up a pair of boxers instead of a shirt. I immediately threw them in the basket. This is going to be a while.

After the basket was filled to the point where it was almost too heavy for me, I carried it downstairs and searched around for a laundry room. By the time I found it, I dropped the basket on the ground and massaged my fingers. “Ow,” I said to myself under my breath. My fingers throbbed and were bright red. I threw all the clothes into the dryer and poured in some detergent. Judging on how much the bottle of detergent weighed, I could tell he rarely did laundry. He better be thankful that I was driven by boredom to clean.

I placed up his guitar picks on his shelf, stacked his books in an orderly fashion, and even vacuumed the floor. I didn’t touch his instruments, though. I didn’t want to drop it or something. Plus, I could tell he’s particular about them. That's why I didn't even dare go into the basement.

It started to come together in the room. By the time I was done organizing, the clothes were done. I put some things in the correct drawer in the dresser and hung up some shirts. Then rearranged the shoes at the bottom of the closet.

By the time I started to make the bed, I heard Jackson come in. “You’re still in here?” He asked, then looked around. “And you cleaned?”

“Yep,” I replied and continued to fold the blankets back on the bed.

“Thanks. But why? You didn’t have to,” he started to say.

“I was bored out of my mind.” I was finished with the bed and started to walk past him. “Plus it’s a mess. Do you ever clean up after yourself?”

“Rarely,” he snickered. “Thanks.”

I started down the hallway and right as I began to go into the room, I heard Jackson’s voice again. “You’re already going in your room for the night?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I turned myself to face him.

“Well, if you’re not too tired, I’m going outside to enjoy the sunset. You’re welcomed to join me,” he offered innocently.

“Okay.” And then I headed off into my room. I didn’t plan on taking up that offer. As much as I liked the comfort of the house, I still hated my situation and didn’t want to be around him. In my mind, there is still a way out of this disaster. I’m not getting married.

“Tomorrow then!” I heard Jackson shout from a distant. I groaned and fell back on the bed.