Take Good Care of My Home

I'm sure you are clever. Exceedingly clever. The kind of person who would never fall for an online scam, isn't that right? Especially a ridiculous one. You know what I'm talking about. “You've just won a trip to Barbados, please give us your social insurance number!” or “I am a Nigerian princess and I have to get rid of all this gold!” No, you'd never fall for that. At the first sight of a red flag, you would turn around and run. Only naive idiots fall for such things.

Well, let me disenfranchise you of this comfortable notion. You can't run a successful scam hoping that only well-off idiots will come to you. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of those out there, but you'll be lucky to run across one of them, let alone dozens. An average conman - a self-made man, really, who is only trying to get by – can only prey on vulnerable people. The usual targets tend to be grandmothers and the mentally ill, but that is something I could never do. If you scam a neglectful grandson out of his inheritance, he'll stop at nothing to make sure you pay for your crime – and, more importantly, pay granny back. I can't risk that.

My targets of choice are the illegals. Not that I have anything against illegals. Lovely people, the lot of them. They run away from violent situations and risk their lives to seek refuge in our country, where they are willing to do back-breaking labor for less than minimum wage. What is there not to love about a group of hard-working people who believe that all Canadians are kind and decent and would never try to take away their money? How could we not welcome with open arms these penny-saving folks who are usually too scared to go to the authorities?

You've probably seen one of the dozens of ads I put up on Craigslist and Kijiji. They vary in pictures and tone, but the bottom line is this:

AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY! Lovely one-bedroom apartment, perfect for international student or worker. My husband and I are missionaries going to South Africa next week and need to sublet our place URGENTLY! We don't care about the money, we just want someone who will look after our home. CAD $1,000.00. Utilities included. NO LEASE NECESSARY! Contact Mary Morgan at...

The story changes, but I find that the missionary woman is wholesome enough to lure people in. The pictures have to look realistic, no fancy condo promotional ads. A nice picture of a basement apartment will do. The price has to be below average, but not so much so that it would raise suspicion. Then, you sit back and wait.

You'd be surprised how many people will answer to something so ridiculous just to see what happens, but most of them lose interest when I tell them I can't meet them in person (the husband and I already flew to South Africa, you see). Some don't mind, though, and agree to meet with “my cousin” at the place once the transfer (which includes one month of rent, plus a CAD 200.00 deposit for the keys) goes through.

You'd think that these websites would keep better track of this sort of thing, but they don't, and none of my targets is going to risk going to the police because they lost CAD 1,200.00 to an internet scam. Some of them come from places where the police are more dangerous than the criminals, while others don't want to risk deportation by calling attention to themselves, or they're just too embarrassed and too busy blaming themselves for falling for something so stupid.

To be fair, I'm sure the police have better things to do with their time. Even if this got reported, they'd probably think I live somewhere in Nigeria and that I'm not worth the trouble. If anyone bothered, though, they'd find out that I live in downtown Toronto, and my little scam has been covering my rent for five months now.

The last time I put one of my ads up, I got a reply within five minutes.

Mrs. Morgan,

I am interest in rent your beautifull appartment for the six month. Is still available?

Amir

I smiled at the broken English and hit reply immediately.

Hi Amir,

Thank you so much for answering to the add. The apartment is still available but, unfortunately, my husband and I had to fly to South Africa sooner than we expected, so I can't show you the place. However, if you are willing to transfer the first month of rent to our account, my cousin Lisa will meet you at the address to give you the keys on Sunday.

You can come by and take a look at the lobby. That shouldn't be a problem.

God bless,

Mary

I know what you're thinking: there's absolutely no way I've been running this ludicrous scam successfully for five months. To be honest, sometimes I'm a little surprised, too. I think it's all in the name I've chosen. Mary.

Mary is a woman, and therefore harmless. Mary is a church-going white lady who loves Jesus. Mary is pious. Mary is good. Mary is definitely not a 6'foot tall 34-year-old guy named Richard who's only after your hard-earned money.

Amir replied within fifteen minutes.

Mrs. Morgan,

Is good. Do I transfer now?

I move Sunday, yes?

Amir

I stared at my email. It's not that I was surprised he was willing to pay; I was surprised he was willing to pay so quickly. Even the desperate and the naive needed some reassurance. They pushed and tried to find solutions with you. Maybe they could meet Lisa? Maybe they could give Lisa the money? No one wanted to part ways with their money that quickly.

Something didn't feel right, but I wasn't about to say no. Just to be cautious, I sent him another email.

Why don't you tell me about yourself, Amir? Is your family moving in with you? Do you have a pet? How long are you staying?

God bless,

Mary

Amir's reply reached my inbox just as quickly as his other messages. It was short and to the point.

Hello Mary,

No family. Just me. I work as clean. I pay now and move Sunday yes?

Amir

I tried to picture Amir in my head. With that name, I thought it was safe to assume he was from the Middle East. He was probably nice and apologetic, so very glad to have the opportunity to come to this country.

I work as clean.

He probably meant “cleaner”. He could be an international student with a part-time job, but most students from the Middle East were teenagers being supported by their wealthy parents. It seemed safe to assume he was in the country illegally since cleaning companies don't care about the legal status of their employees and will often pay them under the table. He had to be either small or old because young immigrant men tended to work in construction. And he was eager, verging on desperate. Maybe his temporary VISA had expired and now he had to hide?

Not that I was about to tell him to think carefully. I sent him my Paypal information and waited. The transfer notification came through and, immediately after, Amir sent me another email.

I send the money.

I move Sunday yes?

Amir

I was a little shocked at how easy it had been. The whole exchange had taken less than thirty minutes. That had to be a record. You know what? I sorta felt sorry for him. I know I said targets aren't necessarily stupid, but he was way too trusting. He was probably some religious weirdo who thought the best of everyone.

“Well, he'll learn a valuable lesson after this,” I said out loud.

My dog looked up from the floor, head tilted to the side, slightly judgmental.

I pointed a finger at him. “Not a word, Thanos. This will put food on your plate and beer in my fridge.”

Thanos huffed as though he didn't approve of my life choices but quickly went back to sleep. There was no arguing with food nor beer.

As a rule, I block my target's email once the transfer comes through since there will be no need for further communication. It was no different with Amir, and I went on with my life as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. To be honest, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thirty minutes to complete a con that usually took three to four days? Clearly, my skills were improving.

The very next day, I opened my email to find a message that read, “NEED NEW ADDRESS!”

I frowned at that and opened the email.

Mrs. Morgan,

I went to apartment but was wrong address. Send new address, please.

I move Sunday.

Amir

I smirked at the screen. I wasn't worried. There wasn't much that he could do about it now. I made sure to block him properly this time and continued halfheartedly searching for a new job. I had planned to spend the rest of winter scamming people from the warmth of my home, then find a more steady source of income in the spring, but the job ads I found online were so underpaid I was seriously considering extending my vacation.

I was still in bed, thinking whether I should go downstairs for a cigarette when another notification popped on the top of the screen.

New email.

I saw Amir's email address. The subject line simply read: Found it!

I deleted it without even thinking about it. That stupid app was always glitching. I could block him once I turned my laptop on. Whatever Amir had found, it didn't interest me in the least.

On Tuesday, I got myself a new TV as a reward for running such a quick and effective con. I admit that I am not at all frugal and have always had difficulty saving money, but at that point, I saw no reason to worry. It was evident that my little scheme was working, guaranteeing a steady flow of cash into my bank account. I would never be a millionaire, but I wouldn't have to worry about the bills anytime soon.

I arrived home that evening in a pretty good mood, but it didn't last. I knew something was wrong right away. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that not everything was in its proper place. Something had changed since I'd left that morning.

Thanos trotted up to me, wagging his tail.

“Did you do something?” I asked. Wouldn't have been the first time I had gotten home to find out my clumsy mutt had ripped one of my pillows open or knocked over a plant.

Thanos blinked at me as though wondering why I hadn't scratched his ears yet. I walked past him and took a look at the living room. Everything seemed to be in order and yet... it wasn't. I couldn't quite see why, though, and it was driving me crazy. A man knows his home. He can tell when something isn't right.

I heard a sorrowful whine and felt the tip of a cold nose brush against my hand. I patted my dog on the head, but the feeling didn't fade. I must have stood in my living room for another five minutes, bewildered but unable to see anything out of place. Finally, I decided I was being ridiculous and that I had better things to do.

I took a picture of my 24” TV and uploaded it to Craigslist. And no, I was not about to scam people again. I actually intended on selling my old TV. There was no reason to keep it around. Besides, I had tried something similar a few months before and it hadn't worked.

I went into the kitchen to heat leftovers for dinner. I took a frying pan out of the cupboard and a plate from the dish rack.

I stopped. Lowered my eyes to the plate in my hand. The penny took a moment to drop, but it finally did. It wasn't that there was something out of place in my apartment – there was nothing out of place in my apartment. I had left that same plate on the couch after having lunch, and the frying pan that was currently in its cupboard had been left in the sink since breakfast.

I stared at the plate I was still holding, drawing my eyebrows into a frown. I hadn't washed either of these and had definitely not put them away. I never did. They usually just stayed in the dish rack until I was ready to use them again. How the hell had my tableware made its way from the living room to the kitchen and gotten itself washed?

Found it!

Something cold ran down my spine, but I knew right then and there that the thought was absurd. I had been careful. I had even asked my friend Daryl, who was good with computers, to ward my laptop against viruses and hackers. I was safe. My target hadn't tracked me down, especially not to wash my dirty dishes.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and decided to take a look at the email I'd deleted the previous morning. I didn't have to, though, because Amir had sent me a new email that afternoon. In all caps, he announced, “WE HAVE PROBLEM!”

Mrs. Morgan,

We have problem. House is dirty. Please clean house before Sunday.

And I can't live with dog. Dogs is dirty animal. You get rid of dog yes?

I move Sunday.

Amir

I stared at my phone screen feeling a pinch of fear crawling up my chest and setting camp there. I kept myself from having a panic attack by repeating a less than reassuring mantra: “If he'd actually found me, he'd have done much worse.”

Horrible as that thought might be, it was also right. If Amir had managed to track me down, then he wouldn't have wasted his time washing dishes and sending emails. At the very least, he'd have confronted me. It made a lot more sense for me to have forgotten doing the dishes than for him to have gone through the trouble of tracking me down and breaking into my apartment just so he could criticize my cleaning habits and my dog.

As for his email... I didn't have an explanation for that, but maybe he'd found the ad I'd stolen the pictures from? Maybe he'd gone to the address on the ad and seen a dog through the window of the apartment? It was unlikely, but not entirely impossible.

“If he had found me, he'd have done much worse,” I repeated.

Thanos came closer to lick my hand. I rubbed his ears.

“It's fine,” I told him, as though he were the one who needed comfort. “Nothing bad will happen.”

The furniture was moved on Wednesday. This time, I could see it the moment I opened the door. Someone had moved my armchair to the other side of the room so that it was the first thing I saw when I walked in. Not only that but everything I had left on top of the coffee table had found its way to drawers and cupboards. The curtains that were usually closed had been pushed open, allowing a lot of sun in.

I hadn't been gone for an hour. I had smoked a cigarette, gone to the supermarket, then smoked another cigarette downstairs before coming up again. There was no way anyone would have had the time to do this. Besides, I had a brand new TV mounted on my wall. Who would break in and not even take that?

“You're a useless guard dog,” I told Thanos, who barked happily at me, as though he'd done an excellent job protecting my home from invaders.

I checked with the landlord to see if he'd come in unannounced, but he hadn't, and even if he had, I doubt he'd have wasted time returning my dirty underwear to its proper drawer.

I hesitated, then I opened my email.

The subject line of Amir's latest message announced, “Please open curtains!”

Mrs. Morgan,

Please let sun in and get rid of dog. Dog is dirty.

I move in Sunday.

Amir

I thought of replying. I went as far as to type down an angry message where I threatened to contact the police and get his ass deported to whatever shithole country he'd escaped from if he didn't stay away from me and my dog.

The words felt good to write, but I didn't send it. What could I tell the police? That one of the people I'd scammed was harassing me? No, I couldn't call them for help. And I suspected that Amir knew that.

I went to see Daryl the following day. He didn't appreciate me barging in on him while he was at work, but he relented after I told him someone had broken into my home and that I suspected I had been hacked. After twenty minutes where he divided his attention between my laptop and a tray of sushi, he declared that there was nothing wrong with my computer. Oh, and that I owed him CAD 200.00 for getting him involved in my ridiculous scheme.

“Unlike you,” he told me, “I actually have a job I'd like to keep.”

Daryl was proud of the fact that he could rot away in a nine-to-five working IT at a bank. Personally, I found that to be a waste of his talents.

I returned home reassured that there had to be a rational explanation for everything that had happened even if I couldn't see it yet, but with every step, I became a little more anxious about going back home. By the time I got to the front door, I wasn't sure I wanted to go in at all. What would be waiting for me? Maybe I should call some friends and go have a beer before-

Thanos started whimpering.

He hurt my dog.

I slammed that door open.

The feeling a got when I walked into my apartment was overwhelming. It was like an icy finger had slid down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps and dread on its way. Something terrible had to have happened to provoke that sort of reaction.

Then I realized it hadn't been dread – at least, not exclusively. My apartment was literally freezing. The heat had been turned off and the door to the balcony was wide open. Thanos was okay, but he was curled in the corner, shaking almost as much as I was. I could hear him whining over the sound of the wind and the snow blowing into my home.

“Shit!”

I shut the balcony door and turned the heat back on. Even with the mild winter we've been having this year, this is still Canada. Fuck, my dog could have frozen if I had taken a moment longer.

Thanos ran over to me and I let him cuddle with me on the couch until we both stopped shaking.

Unsurprisingly, Amir had sent me a new email:

Mrs. Morgan,

Please turn heat of. Appartment is hot. Also, dog has to leave.

I move in Sunday.

Amir

I rubbed Thanos' floppy ears with my cold hands while I fought the urge to launch my cellphone across the room. That little fucker. You can judge me all you want, I know I'm far from being perfect, but at least I'm not some sociopath who messes with people's heads and threatens their dogs.

I'd had enough of this. The next time he came into my apartment, I was going to be ready.

I paid for extra fast shipping and got a discreet nanny cam from Amazon. I positioned it so that it was pointing at the door and I left with Thanos.

I sat at a coffee shop a couple of blocks from my house and sipped my coffee while keeping my eyes glued to the live feed on my cellphone. The moment Amir walked through that door, I would get a good look at his face. I might send the video to him by email and see if that would spook him. Or perhaps I would use his first name and picture to track him down.

I knew I was going to have to wait for a very long time, but it didn't matter. I would sit on that cafe for hours if I had to only to get a glimpse at that fucker's face.

Seven minutes later, I saw the doorknob on my front door turn.

I held my breath. It couldn't be. It was too fast. He couldn't have known I was away from home yet. Had he been watching me? Did he know where I was?

“I got you, you little shit,” I muttered under my breath.

The door opened just a little, then it paused.

Maybe he was listening in, trying to figure out if I was home.

But the door stayed like that for a very long time. I even wondered if he'd gotten to his knees and crawled into the apartment since the camera didn't reach a good three feet off the floor. I quickly reminded myself that it was impossible. The door had to be only a few inches ajar. A person could never fit through.

The minutes ticked by. My eyes were beginning to hurt because I wouldn't blink. I was too afraid to miss something if I looked away for just a moment.

“C'mon, you fuck, come o-”

The feed died.

I ran.

The barista screamed after me and Thanos yapped and pulled at his leash, bringing down the table I'd tied him to, along with everything on it. I didn't care. I wasn't about to let that man mess with my life any longer. I covered the two-block distance in desperate, large strides that set my muscles on fire. I was so close now. So goddamn close.

The first thing I saw when I burst into my home was that the camera was nowhere to be seen. The second thing I saw was a couple of ugly purple pillows on the couch. They didn't belong to me. On the coffee table, a cinnamon-scented candle had been lit and it was letting out a strong, unpleasant smell.

No one was in sight.

Inside my pocket, my phone chimed with a new message.

Mrs. Morgan,

House smell nice now. Happy dog is out.

I move Sunday.

Amir

I flopped on the couch. The run had left me panting and light-headed and I had to fight the urge to cry. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. I'd had a camera pointing at the fucking door! He shouldn't have been able to get past that. I should have found out what he looked like. I should be the one in control.

I wasn't though.

I had no control over anything.

I didn't leave Thanos in the coffee shop, though maybe I should have. I went back to fetch him and pay for the damage I'd caused. Let me tell you, the manager was less than impressed with my “I saw someone break into my house” excuse. I was asked not to come back.

I cuddled up with my dog that night, though I was too scared to fall asleep. I had checked every nook and cranny of my apartment twice, but I still wasn't convinced Amir had left at all. My eyes kept jumping from one dark corner to the next, seeing faces in the shadows and imagining two long arms extending from under the bed to pull at my feet. What was he going to do next? Was he going to hurt my dog? Was he going to hurt me?

This wasn't only a clever man who could work around surveillance cameras and keep an eye on me without being seen; this was a patient man. He could have done something horrible on that first day, but he didn't. He chose to wait and toy with me. This was all very amusing to him.

I did consider sending his money back. I'm ashamed to admit it took me that long to even consider it, but I was finally running out of options. If I returned the money, then he might leave me alone and I wouldn't have to fear coming home every day.

Why should he get your money back?, whispered a vicious little voice in my head. He's a psycho and he's probably doing this on purpose. No one that clever falls for a con as stupid as the one you're running. He wanted you to cheat him. He wanted to find someone to torture.

He shouldn't get his money back.

And you should do whatever it takes to protect yourself.

I was angry. I dare say I was angrier than I was scared. I'd taken that man's money, but he'd taken away my peace of mind and my sense of safety. My punishment didn't fit my crime.

It was four in the morning, but I got out of bed and got my baseball bat out of the closet. If he wanted to come back and harass me, I was going to deal with him myself. I wasn't going to go anywhere, and the moment he walked through that door, I would either scare him away or bash his head in – and I was hoping for the latter.

I pulled up my armchair and waited by the door. I barely moved all day. Sometimes, I would stretch my legs or pace the space between the chair and the door, but I never turned my back to the entrance, too scared he might be standing there once I turned back around. I waited and I drank – and whenever I felt bored or ridiculous, I drank more.

By noon, I was out of beer and drunkenly swinging my bat at empty spaces, muttering nonsense and ignoring my dog when he started whining to go for a walk. When he started barking madly, I thought someone was about to attack me, but he was simply barking at the neighbor's cat who had wandered into the balcony. It scared the shit out of me. I grabbed him by the collar and forced him into my bedroom, where his barking became louder, then thinned into a whimper, and then went completely silent.

I didn't pay attention to him. All I cared about was the chance to cause that man as much pain as he had caused me. Any time now. He would make his move any time now and I would demolish him.

As the minutes ticked by and as I sobered up, though, I began to realize the chances of him coming into my home were very unlikely while I was standing there. If he really was keeping an eye on me, he would know it would be dangerous to come in. I dared hope I'd scared him. He had to know I was armed with a blunt object and could cause severe damage.

I unlocked the bedroom door and went to the kitchen to put some food in Thanos' bowl. The sound of the food hitting his bowl didn't seem to entice him to come after me.

“C'mon, boy. I'm sorry I was a dick.”

Nothing.

Not even a sound.

“Thanos?”

I went back to the bedroom and looked around. Then, I looked under the bed and inside the closet.

Thanos was nowhere to be found, and a new email had made its way to my inbox.

I move in on Sunday.

Even though Amir had sent me those words many times before, it was the first time I saw the real threat in them.

I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life.

There was a sense of fatality after Thanos was taken, the last shred of hope that was taken from me. Up until that moment, I could've explained everything rationally, but this I couldn't. I'd thought Amir had been coming into my apartment when he knew I was out, yet me being in the room had made no difference whatsoever. Worst of all, worse than losing Thanos, was that I had no idea how he'd done it. The windows in my bedroom are too small to allow a person in or my labrador-sized mutt out.

I understood for that first time that this was going to happen. I just didn't know what this was. He couldn't possibly think I was going to allow him to move in. What was he going to do if I didn't agree to move out? Kill me? Take me to wherever he'd taken Thanos?

It was possible. It was very possible.

I didn't sleep that night. I didn't do anything except smoke and stare blankly at a wall with tearful eyes. Finally, I swallowed my pride and I sent the email I should have sent on Wednesday:

Hi Amir,

This is Mary. I am very sorry I didn't have time to tidy up the house before you moved in and that I didn't get back to you sooner. This week has been very busy and the internet is spotty where I am staying.

I am writing with some bad news. My husband and I have just received news that the organization we work for is being dissolved, so our services won't be needed for the next six months. We are getting back to Toronto tomorrow, so we'll be moving back into our apartment. Evidently, I will reimburse you for the money you've sent immediately. If you need to go to a hotel, just send the check to me and I'll take care of it.

I'm so very sorry for the inconvenience.

God bless,

Mary

I reread the email several times, feeling a weight in the pit of my stomach being lifted. Maybe this would be enough. It had to be. I had learned my lesson. There was no need to harass me anymore, especially now that I had transferred the money back to him.

I waited for a reply, but it didn't come. That alone was strange. Amir had always replied within minutes. Maybe that meant he was going to leave me alone. Or maybe he was angry. I couldn't know.

At five, just as the sun was beginning to set, I went downstairs to clear my head. I debated whether I should do it or not, but decided it would make no difference. Being in the apartment hadn't deterred that man from coming in. Besides, I'd run out of cigarettes and the stress was only increasing my need for nicotine.

I took my keys, my phone, and my wallet. If he was in my home when I returned... I don't know, I suppose I'd have to talk to him. Or fight him. One way or another, this would be over.

I hadn't taken five steps away from the building when I felt it. It's hard to describe it, but it was so intense I swear I could feel it in my bones. I think the best way to put it is heat. There was something as hot as anger being directed straight at me, piercing my back and hitting me as sharply as the cold winter wind.

I turned around and I knew to look up at my third-floor window. There he was. Well, I say he, but I'm still not sure. The blinds were down, so I could only see the silhouette of what I think was a man. It was tall and lanky, its head as high as the ceiling. It had its eyes on me, staring through the blinds, projecting much more than just a glare. He was challenging me to go back upstairs. I didn't want to.

I jumped when my phone chimed in. New email. When I looked up from my phone again, the blinds had been closed and I couldn't see that thing anymore. What he'd written made my blood run cold.

Dear Richard,

We should all learn to live with the consequences of our actions. If you had no intention of vacating your apartment for six months, you shouldn't have put that ad up. As it stands, I have no intention of finding another place as the action of moving in – and cleaning your mess – was already strenuous enough.

Of course, you could always tell your landlord that there is a stranger in your apartment and refuse to pay rent from now on. That would eventually get us both evicted. It is your right to do so and I would understand completely. I can always follow you to a new apartment, though I don't think either of us wants that.

You have promised me a home for six months and you have told me that you don't care about the money as long as I take good care of your home. I intend to fulfill my side of the contract as long as you fulfill yours.

Respectfully,

Amir

I must have stared at my phone for an hour after receiving that message. I didn't know what to do. Somewhere inside my apartment, my new TV was turned on.

I've spent the last two days looking for cheap accommodations and I think I've found a depressing little basement in Mississauga that is within my budget. I can't afford much, though. I'm still looking for a job and now I am going to have to pay twice as much rent. I'm not testing whatever it is that lives in my apartment now.

I can only hope Amir keeps his word and leaves at the end of six months.

God... I need to find a job.