Different Circles

Darlene Sams, the manager of the Oceano Alpha Beta grocery store, did not particularly care for Jake Kingsley, his wife, or their uppity maid. The maid in particular—her name was Elsa, and she was hands-down the blackest woman Darlene had ever met—rubbed her entirely the wrong way. Their initial encounter with each other on the day the trio had moved into their Oceano home and Darlene had tried to refuse a check from Elsa (and who wouldn’t automatically mistrust a check from a black-ass nigger with a Los Angeles address, she often pondered) had only set the tone for her dislike. Since then, it had grown. Elsa was in the store several times a week buying three and four hundred dollars worth of groceries at a time (a good portion of it top-shelf liquor and wines—it was quite clear that the Kingsleys were alcoholics) just as Elsa had suggested she would. Darlene was always careful to be polite to Elsa, even syrupy sweet on occasion, but she secretly thought the woman arrogant and hoity-toity, which infuriated her because she sincerely believed that an actual African nigger who worked as a mere maid had absolutely no place feeling superior in any way to a hard-working white woman such as herself. The fact that Elsa was more educated than Darlene, made considerably more money, lived in nicer accommodations, drove a better car, and worked considerably harder and more numerous hours every week, did not even enter her equation unless she was looking for sources of validation of her opinion.

As for Kingsley and his wife, they were occasional visitors to the store as well, one or the other of them coming in once every few weeks or so when they were in town. Mrs. Kingsley came in regularly to pick up her birth control prescription from the pharmacy (and Darlene had heard some juicy gossip about that just the day before) and to occasionally do some light shopping. Jake Kingsley came in a bit more frequently, usually by himself, usually to buy the makings for a single meal. These visits were usually on the weekends. He had told several of the checkers while making small talk with them that Elsa the maid had weekends off and that he, Kingsley, did the cooking on those days if he was home.

The Kingsleys were naturally the subject of much town gossip since they had moved to that house up on the cliff a year and a half before. Oceano was a small town with a smalltown mentality and an instinctive mistrust of rich interlopers, even if they were not dope-using musicians who were said to be into Satanism and homosexuality. And the fact that they kept mostly to themselves, paid their bills on time, donated very generously to the local high school’s music program, and bought nearly all of their household supplies or services locally, only seemed to deepen those dark suspicions about them; making it seem as if they were putting up a front.

Everyone wondered just what sort of things the Kingsleys were doing up in that mansion on the cliff (it was assumed that they had to be doing all kinds of illegal and perverted things). Particularly valuable sources of Kingsley gossip were those few who, through the nature of their jobs, had actually been inside the Kingsley compound. Jack, the driver for Suburban Propane services, made regular visits there to refill the two tanks on the property. Ralph, the guy who worked for the private waste management company that contracted with San Luis Obispo County, was up there every Thursday morning to empty the garbage cans. Both of them reported that they had been given gate codes that were unique to them and were only valid on the days they were to be there. They also had to look into the security camera every time they used them. They rarely saw anyone at all on their visits, but Jack claimed he had once seen Mrs. Kingsley washing her car in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Ryan, the satellite service technician, had been inside the house on two occasions, as had Frank of the local plumbing service. They reported that the Kingsleys had not even been home when they’d been there, that they had just dealt with Elsa, the maid, who was polite to them, thankful for their help, but otherwise aloof. Several local contractors who had performed other services for the Kingsleys reported much the same thing. Usually, Jake and his wife were not even home when they were there to install a new sound system or a new set of bathroom cabinets or to fix the pump on the hot tub.