Allena Abigail Burkhardt: Part 1

Allena hesitated at the bottle green gate. The paint was peeling in places and the property was bordered with a low brick wall, thick shrubs spilling over the edge.

Dragging the little gate open, she made her way down the path, ducking under branches of a hot pink camellia before spotting the front door. It was a complementary shade of maroon to the front gate. A pile of wilted dandelions lay abandoned by the doormat. The woman sniffed once and adjusted the colourfully wrapped package under her arm. She’d spent the morning finger painting some plain brown wrapping paper and she was pleased with the effect. She knocked.

A shriek erupted from somewhere inside. Allena briefly entertained the notion of an escape route. The door swung open with a click.

“Allena?” Oscar seemed genuinely surprised. With a jolt, she realised she was a bit hurt.

“Um, yes,” she said. “Is this a bad time—I mean, Ben’s Birthday…”

“Of course,” Oscar started. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d have time, was all…” He'd thought she would forget. There was an awkward moment where she hovered on the threshold. “Come in,” he went on, “Goodness, would you like some coffee? Tea, rather.” He was flustered. When she entered the house, she knew why.

Children seemed to materialise from thin air, running in every direction.

Allena carefully noted the lack of various breakables from the house’s hall shelf and living area. More a precaution than a life choice, she figured, going by the faint breaks in the dust. “Thank you, Oscar, but no thank you,” she responded to the man’s question.

Something tugged at her jacket. It was a child, with hazel plaits, purple tights, tartan skirt and red knitted vest over a white turtleneck skivvy. A riot of warm colours.

“Is that for Ben?”

“Yes,” Allena responded. “It is.” The girl’s face split into a toothy grin.

“I’ll go get him,” she said brightly.

“Okay…” As she and Oscar entered the kitchen, there were several other adults. One of the mothers eyed her over a plastic cup of cordial.

“And who’s this, Oscar?” Allena detected the underlying question beneath the obvious. She wasn’t being unfriendly, but Allena felt mildly affronted all the same. Oscar ducked behind the kitchen bench.

“I’m Allena,” she said, at the same time as Oscar opened his mouth to respond. “Nice to meet you.”

“Allena is my boss,” Oscar explained. “Allena, this is Jenny.”

The other women and one man also introduced themselves. There was a rosy cheeked Laylor and a flat looking Elain. Casper too, seemed to be sporting the signs of parenthood that Allena had come to know in Oscar, bags under his eyes.

Despite Allena’s insistence that she not have a cup of tea, Oscar made her a cup of tea. Mint tea. With cows’ milk. She felt a mixture of gratitude and pity for his lot in life.

Just as she was receiving her large mug of minty cows’ milk tea, the red vested girl and a boy with wavy black hair trotted into the room.

“There,” the girl indicated Allena, before making a beeline for Laylor’s lap.

“Hello,” Ben said, staring up at her in that way that only children seemed to get away with.

“Ben, this is Allena,” Oscar said, carefully observing his son.

“I heard it’s your Birthday today,” Allena said. “So I thought I would find you an appropriate gift to mark the occasion.” The boy’s face lit up as she solemnly bestowed the many coloured package to him.

“Thank you,” he said, without being prompted at all. He sat down on the kitchen floor with a thud and proceeded to unwrap it. The conversation among the adults resumed, but Allena kept an eye on Ben with approval, as he carefully unwrapped his gift. He let out a faint gasp of awe upon extracting it.

“It’s an ant farm,” Allena said in explanation. She thought she saw Oscar flinch in her peripherals. “It’s well contained, of course. And low maintenance, this one. Good for beginners. All you need is ants.”

“Beginners…?” Oscar trailed off as Ben rushed to show him his prize. Beginners. As though this were only the start...

“Look, Dad,” he said quietly. “Can I go find some ants now?”

“So, Allena, I hear you’re a private detective?” Allena tore her eyes from Oscar and nodded to Jenny.

“Yes, I have my own agency,” she said.

“Where are you based?”

“I work from home at the moment.” She threw another glance at Oscar, trying to gauge whether or not he approved. He’d mentioned Ben’s predilection for bugs, but she had neglected to ask him about his own opinion on the matter.

“Oh?” Allena frowned, focusing on Jenny again.

“Uh, yes,” she said. “It’s supposed to be temporary.” She left it that. She didn’t have to explain herself to anyone about how she had unwittingly gotten involved in an investigation that the police were also looking into. And that they confiscated her work space, and still hadn’t given it back.

“Is it interesting?” Casper asked.

“It involves a lot of long hours,” she said carefully. “But yes, it can be quite interesting. A lot more paperwork than many would think, though. Oscar is quite the asset.”

“I would hope so,” Jenny said, waring on Allena’s patience. “With the amount of time he spent at uni.” Allena looked into her cup and Casper coughed nervously.

Ben passed by the group of parents with the ant farm, fully unboxed and what looked like a portion of Birthday cake. Wrenching the backdoor open, he vanished into the yard beyond with the girl and her plaits. Allena wished fervently to follow as she eyed the line of parents. It didn’t even have to be through the door. She would have taken a window if it was socially acceptable. Glancing at her watch, she found she hadn’t been there for ten minutes.

“Well,” Oscar began, re-joining them. “Jenny, how’s the business venture going?”

“It’s coming on beautifully,” she responded enthusiastically. “After that last hiccup with the courier, it’s improved.”

“Jenny has started a custom made biscuit business,” Oscar explained to Allena. She took a gulp of tea, glad to have the topic of conversation diverted.

“That’s interesting,” Allena remarked, carefully monitoring her tone. “You use a courier to deliver to clients?”

“Some of them,” Jenny said evenly. “For cafés and the like, but those are more generic products. We send one off, custom orders via the post.”

“Do you have times of year that are busier than others?” Allena inquired, noting the somewhat wary look on Laylor’s part. She, like her presumable daughter, wore a vest. But hers was of a multi-coloured yarn. It looked warm and comfortable. Like winter.

Jenny launched off on a spiel about how February had offered a spike in revenue because of Valentines. Elain fidgeted in Allena’s peripherals.

“Oscar?” Allena looked up to see a woman in the doorway.

“Cynthia, sorry, how are things in the rumpus room?”

“Zach needs a Band-Aid,” she said. “Ray’s supervising.” With that, Elain and Laylor stood up and moved out of the room.

“Oh dear,” Casper murmured. “What happened?”

“Just some carpet burn, nothing too sinister,” Cynthia responded distractedly. Allena watched mildly, wondering if she shouldn’t make an exit. She was meeting with Jamie in the evening, and she hadn’t vacuumed her flat yet. Oscar was searching through the first-aid kit he had salvaged from the top of the refrigerator. A shriek went up from outside.

“Dear god,” he muttered. “Casper, could you please see what’s happening with the two adventurers in the yard?”

Allena found herself following the man into the backyard. It was a relatively spacious area, with vegetable beds around the perimeter, boxing in the Hills-Hoist and a gnarled lemon tree. Ben and the young girl were bent over the edge of the far garden bed.

“Ben, Charlotte, what’s the matter?” Casper called. Apparently, they had prized up one of the rocks that bordered the garden beds.

“It’s a centipede,” Ben called in awe.

“Careful, Ben,” Casper called warily. Allena quickened her pace to get a look.

“It’s a millipede, actually,” she said evenly. “It won’t hurt you, just don’t eat it.”

Casper shot her an incredulous sidelong glance. “Come on, Ben, Charlotte, let’s go back inside.”

Charlotte let out a whine. “Let’s go,” he reiterated firmly. Ben stood up, Charlotte-rolling her eyes-followed suit.

Allena spotted the crumbled bit of chocolate cake, scattered near the clothesline.

“Found any ants, yet?” she asked. Ben shook his head, then took her hand. She stiffened a little, immediately wishing Casper would double back and take over. Jamie was always better with kids. She forced herself to breathe out. A child wasn’t going to kill her. Sure, they were great transmitters of common illness, but not lethal.

“No,” he said, clearly disappointed.

“Plenty of time…” Allena stated, as they went back inside. "Cake's always a great lure."

Not long after returning into the hive of activity that was her employee's house, Allena had a suitable excuse to leave. Holding back a smirk, she read Jamie's text.

"I've got to head off," she said, upon seeking out Oscar, shifting nervously as Charlotte charged past, wielding a foam sword. "Thank you for the invite. I hope it's okay I bought the ant farm, I realise I should have checked with you first."

"Oh no!" the man appeared taken aback. "It was just really thoughtful." So that was the explanation for his reaction. Allena smiled wanly.

"No worries," she stated, "Good luck, with everything." Oscar laughed exasperatedly.

"Thanks," he eyed one of the children as they climbed onto the arm of a couch in the next room. "I'll need it."

Allena was only too relieved when she stepped out onto the damp pavement, readjusting her scarf. Pulling out her phone, she called the now familiar number.

Part 2 of the Allena Abigail Burkhardt mini-series can be found via the link below:

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