Anton opened the door to Elena's room and stood in the doorway, looking around the bedroom, right to left. The walls were pale blue, adding a sense of peace and tranquility. The bed was covered by a simple green bedspread and had a dark brown nightstand next to it on the right side. An antique lamp stood on top of it, along with a Bible and an alarm clock that read 3:17. Glancing over, the hitman saw a vase of fake yellow roses nested on the windowsill, and a tall dark dresser stood in the left corner of the room by the closet, where three small bottles of cheap perfume aligned themselves underneath an oval mirror that hung overhead.
Anton walked over to the tall dresser and picked up the bottles of perfume one by one and smelled them, each one a different scent. Ocean. Vanilla. Spearmint. He then turned towards the closet and opened the door, examining her clothes with his eyes. The hitman closed the door and turned his attention over to the Bible sitting on top of the nightstand, as he walked over and sat down on the right side of the bed. Anton picked up the Holy Scripture and placed it on his lap, opening the page that was bookmarked by an envelope. The address was from a Donald Kerabatsos who lived in Los Angeles.
Anton placed the Bible back on the nightstand and pulled open the top drawer, only to stand up right away. Much to his surprise, he found a Beretta 92 pistol lying on top of Elena's clothes. Of what use did a nurse have for a gun was beyond him. Was she truly crazy like he had thought? Or did she posses the weapon by means of protection? Anton turned his head left and looked towards the window, listening in case anyone was around. Only the sound of birds singing could be heard in the distance. He looked back at the gun lying on top of Elena's underthings and thought to himself on whether or not to take it. He had lost his silenced shotgun in the wreck back in Odessa and had no other weapons to defend himself with. Not that he thought himself in any danger, but should this woman ever find out about his profession, Anton could easily kill her with the Beretta, even with his left arm temporarily disabled. She had already seen his face, and even though he had already promised himself he would not hurt Elena, Anton Chigurh preferred to think of himself as nothing more than a ghost. A phantom of the past. Regardless of his morals, Anton knew damn well that without her help in his road to recovery, he would be useless as a hitman later on in the future. If he killed her now, what benefit would there be in it for him? Keeping himself to his word, Anton closed the drawer and walked out of the bedroom as if nothing had happened.
Walking back out into the living room, Anton turned off the television, before turning his attention to a painting of two sparrows hanging up on the wall. The simple, yet beautiful detail of the artistry added a nice homely touch to the lonely residence. Turning his head right, Anton looked down at the phonograph that held a vinyl record entitled Black Death by Arrogance. He turned on the switch and brought the tonearm over, setting the needle gently onto the record. Turning the volume down, the house soon filled with the sound of hard rock.
At 10:37 that night, the blue Volkswagen pulled up into the driveway. Elena got out of the car and walked up to the front door, carrying a paper bag from Arby's in her hand. She unlocked the door and walked into the house, only to find Anton sitting on the couch. The news was on the television.
"Hello", Elena greeted him, shutting the door behind her. She walked over and sat down next to Anton, who looked at her. "Sorry I'm late", said Elena, taking out a couple of roast beef sandwiches from the bag and setting them down on the coffee table. "Things got kind of held up at the hospital."
"Rough day?" Anton asked her.
"Oh, I can't complain", said Elena. She looked at Anton and asked him, "How was your day?"
"Stimulating", said Anton.
Elena crumpled up the bag and said, "I'll get us a couple of drinks", as she stood up and walked into the kitchen. She returned a minute later with two cans of orange soda and set one of them down on the coffee table, before taking a seat on the couch.
"So, what did I miss?" Elena asked, opening the soda can and placing it down in front of Anton, who had already helped himself to one of the sandwiches.
"Something about Carter", Anton answered.
"Oh, God, I hate him", said Elena, picking up the other sandwich and taking a bite.
Both of them sat there together and ate their dinner in silence, watching the late night news.
A week had passed since fate intertwined the lives of the hitman and the nurse. By now, the bruise around his left eye had disappeared, the scars around his head were healed, and the bruise and scratch on his left leg had started to fade, but his left arm still remained in a sling. It would take a few months for it to heal properly.
Elena had managed to stop by a department store to pick up some clothes for Anton, and when she asked him on what his style was, he had given her strict orders to stick to denim and dark colors. She did not fail him and succeeded in finding at least five pairs of long-sleeved, dark-colored cotton shirts, along with two pairs of dark jeans, though she thought he should at least add a little bit of color to his wardrobe, instead of looking like a humanized version of the Grim Reaper.
One day, Elena came home around five o'clock, a silky red material clutched in her hand, and walked through the front door, calling out, "Anton, I'm home!" She shut the door behind her and looked around the living room, but he was not there. "Anton?" Elena walked down the hall and opened the door to the guest room, but he was not there either. Elena walked over and set the red clothing down on the bed, before walking back out into the hall. She saw the door to the bathroom was barely ajar and gently pushed the door open, only to find Anton sitting in the bathtub, his left arm resting on the edge of the tub. His clothes and the sling were on the ground.
"You're home early", Anton noted.
Elena walked into the bathroom and said, "I asked if they could move my shift to some other time", as she looked under the sink and took out a plastic bowl. She then sat down on the edge of the tub and dipped the bowl into the steaming water. She placed a hand over Anton's eyes and poured water onto his hair.
"Your reason for doing so?" Anton asked her, his eyes still covered.
"Honestly, I just wanted to see you", said Elena. She refilled the bowl and doused his hair again. She then set the bowl on the counter and applied shampoo and conditioner to his hair, washing his hair throughly and massaging his scalp, before rinsing his hair with water for the final time. Elena then took a washcloth and laved it with soap, as she gently ran it over his shoulders and under his arms. Neither of them said anything and Anton preferred to keep it that way. He did not mind so much, as he allowed her to assist him with his bathing. Being a nurse, it was required of her to do so. Therefore, he did not protest, even when she cleaned the lower half of his body.
Afterwards, Elena helped Anton to stand up and dried his body off with a towel. For whatever reason, she avoided eye contact with him, as she knelt down and dried him off from the torso down. Her attempts at acting professional failed her, as Anton could clearly see a hint of blush in her cheeks. The dilation of her pupils and that familiar sparkle in her eye reminding the hitman of what happens when women like herself lay their eyes on a tall, dark man with a strongly built, but lean frame like his own.
Afterwards, Elena wrapped a towel around his waist and had him follow her into the guest room. Lying across the bed was a long-sleeved, red satin shirt.
"What's this?" Anton asked her.
Elena tossed his boots and the sling onto the bed, and held up the shirt for him to see. "I know you said you preferred to dress in dark colors, but I seriously think you should try something new for a change." Elena set the shirt back down on the bed and walked over to the closet. She opened the door and pushed aside the smaller girls clothes, looking through the outfits she had picked out for Anton and took out a pair of black pants. She never asked him why he never questioned her about the obvious state of the room, nor did he care at the moment.
"I'm tired of looking at you in black", said Elena, walking over to him. "It's always black with you."
"That's not true", said Anton, letting the towel drop from his waist, as he sat down on the bed.
Elena helped him put on his pants and then his boots. She then had Anton stand up, as she helped him into the red shirt. After buttoning him up, Elena adjusted his collar and stepped back to look at him. She examined Anton with her eyes and said to herself, "Uh-huh, I was right!"
After she put the sling back onto him, Anton looked at Elena with annoyance and asked her, "Don't you think this is a tad bit overdoing it?"
Elena smiled innocently at him and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I don't know about overdoing it, but if we're going out, you want to look nice, don't you?" She then turned around and headed out of the guest room.
Anton blinked in confusion and turned his head towards the door. "We're going out?"
"Yeah!" Elena called out from her bedroom. "We're due at the Gunderson's in an hour!"
Anton walked out and stood outside of Elena's room. He leaned his back against the wall and put his right arm across his left arm, as he asked her, "When were you going to tell me about this?"
"I wanted to surprise you", Elena answered. "I called Marge about a week ago and told her we should get together sometime. It's just a simple dinner party. Nothing fancy. Anyway, I thought it was time you two should meet." A minute later, Elena came out of her room. She had changed out of her nurse's dress and was now wearing a buttoned-up white cotton shirt, black vest, and slick blue jeans. She turned around once for Anton to see and asked him, "What do you think?"
"You look all right, but I'm not going", said Anton, his eyes full of contempt. With that said, the hitman turned around and walked down the hall.
Elena frowned at his response and followed after him. "What?"
"I said, I'm not going", Anton repeated.
"No, I heard what you said-"
"Then why did you ask me again?"
"Oh, come on, Anton", said Elena, as they walked out into the living room. "You've been trapped in this house for a week. Aren't you the least bit bored yet?"
"That is not of your concern", said Anton, loosing patience.
"Uh, I hate to disagree with you, but I'd like to think that it is", Elena informed him, following him into the kitchen.
Anton turn around and looked at her with cold, dead eyes. "Since when is my entertainment a concern of yours...amiga?"
Elena eyed him for a minute, shocked at his behavior. She nodded her head and said to him, "Mr. Smart Eyes, huh?" She tightened her lips and reached into her pocket, as she said to Anton, "Okay. We'll decide this with a flip of a coin." She pulled out a quarter and said, "Tails, we go out. Heads, we stay home."
Just as Elena flipped the quarter into the air, Anton caught it with his right hand and placed it down on the counter, covering it with his fingers. If anyone was going to play the hands of fate, it was him.
"Call it."
Elena looked at him, confused. "What?"
"Just call it", Anton told her.
Elena put her hands behind her back and said with a confident smile, "Okay. Tails."
Anton stared at her for a minute, a look of hate and malice in those dark, vengeful eyes of his. He despised her optimistic personality and certainty over the situation. The fact that she wanted to introduce him to her law enforcement relatives was not something he was willing to do. What if it was all part of some big setup? Whether it was a simple gathering or not, Anton Chigurh was not about to make himself vulnerable and have his face be seen by another authority figure. He had attempted that once already just to see if he could escape custody by force of will, which was an over-confident move on his part. Had he failed, he would not be where he was right now. And with the condition he was in, the hitman would think himself a dead man the moment any cop laid eyes on him. Wasting no other time, Anton looked down and uncovered the coin for Elena to see. She had won.