Sometime around midnight, I noticed a faint humming sound through the open bedroom window.
It was the sort of noise you’d never hear during the daytime.
I pulled the blinds aside.
At first, I thought I was imagining what I saw.
Then my eyes followed the thick black cable.
Monica’s white Tesla was parked unusually close to our shared property line.
The cable ran from her car directly to the outdoor outlet on my garage.
I pulled on my robe and slippers and walked outside.
My heart was pounding harder than it had in months.
Monica was leaning casually against the car, scrolling through her phone.
“Monica,” I said. “What exactly are you doing?”
She glanced up without a hint of embarrassment.
“Charging my car. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that cable is plugged into MY house.”
She rolled her eyes and slid the phone into her back pocket.
“Eleanor, come on. You live alone. How much electricity could you possibly need?”
“That isn’t the point.”
“It kind of is, though,” she said, waving toward my house. “I have three kids. I’m running errands all day. You’re retired. You just sit inside.”
Heat climbed up the back of my neck.
“My electric bill doubled last month, Monica. Doubled. Because of THIS.”
“I’m almost done.”
She gave an irritated laugh.
“Fine. I’ll give you ten bucks if it matters that much. Don’t be greedy, Eleanor. It’s just a little electricity.”
Greedy.
