The Bay House
I am not scared by much. I can wander cemeteries alone and sleep in haunted places with my two boys by myself. I've walked the streets of Detroit alone at night. I am more fascinated by the history than scared by actual things, but our rental house on this trip scared me at times. It was a strange, cold place with a wall of open windows and view out onto a dark and lonely beach. The rental was typical of Mobile. Mobile, Alabama is a city where extreme poverty is a problem. Like it's sister city, New Orleans, the poor are everywhere and there are poor neighborhoods spread out throughout the city. Mobile also has wealth in pockets and the juxtaposition of this wealth with this poverty is extreme.
We slept fine the first night and the first day we went out. When we came back all the TV's were on. I called the realtor to see if anyone else had the key. She knew of no one and asked if I wanted her to call the police. I said no and as I was feeling ill, I went to bed while everyone else went out. When I awoke, things had been moved. My medicine was gone. There was a plunger on top of the toilet. I had been the only one in the house. Worse than all this, I felt ill at ease in the cold and elegant rental. I was uncomfortable being alone. I felt like I was being watched.