The Neighbor Who Stole My Electricity

I did not think much about them at first. Vanessa was friendly enough in that bright, fast way, the kind of friendly that is really just filing you under a category and moving on. First time we talked over the fence she asked me what I did, and when I told her warehouse, nights, I watched the category slot into place behind her eyes. That was fine. I have been slotted before.

The bills started climbing in May.

My electric had run me around a hundred and thirty, hundred and forty in the warm months for as long as I could remember. It is a small house. I am not there half the time. I do not run much. So when May came in at two-forty, I figured it was a mistake. I called the power company, sat on hold for forty minutes on my one morning off, and a nice enough woman told me there was no error on their end, that my usage was just up, a lot, mostly overnight. Overnight. That stuck in me sideways, because overnight is exactly when I am not home. Overnight my house is dark and locked and the only things running are the fridge and the water heater.

June came in at two-eighty-one.

Now I was mad, and being mad made me pay attention. I started walking the house before I left for my shift, checking every outlet, every appliance, looking for the thing that was eating power in the dark. I found nothing inside. So one evening before work, standing in my driveway with my travel mug, I walked the outside of the house too, and that is when I saw it. The outdoor outlet on the side of my detached garage, the one that faces the narrow strip between my garage and Vanessa and Chad’s driveway, the outlet I put in years ago for Christmas lights and never use otherwise, had a scuff of dirt worn into the little weatherproof cover. Fresh scuff. Somebody had been opening and closing that cover, and it was not me.

I stood there and I looked from that outlet, across the ten feet of grass, to the pearl white SUV sitting in their driveway with its charge port on the near side, and I felt my stomach drop the way it does when a bad count finally makes sense.