We were about to find out.
Andy and I sat on the porch, still contemplating our sanity when Jenson came out, dragging a large black trash bag as usual, down the steps, across his lawn, and to his car where he loaded it into the trunk. He rested, like always, before getting in the driver’s seat.
While he performed these tasks, Andy pestered me about following him.
“Come on,” Andy said urgently. “What are the chances that he’s doing this today? It’s like we were meant to follow him. We’ve sat here all night, even dug through his trash, and now he’s doing it.” Though he was speaking in a whisper, I heard the excitement in his voice.
Feeling Andy’s eyes fly back and forth from me to Jenson, I said, “We’re going to have to hurry.”
We went as quickly as we could to Andy’s car without seeming obvious or suspicious in any way. We were backing out of Andy’s driveway as Jenson made a left at the end of the street.
13 Bernie
The sound of a racing engine startled me awake. I figured it was some damn punk teenagers, but when I ran to the door and threw it open, all I saw was that red-haired guy’s car turning the corner at the end of the street.
I looked across the street at his house, and then the house beside his. Owen’s house. I saw no signs of life over there, but that wasn’t saying anything. Unless Owen was on the porch, which he usually was, I never saw signs of life there.
I closed the door and stretched. I’d been waiting for those two morons to go inside so I could go next door and see the brown haired broad who wanted me. But those sons of bitches had sat out there all night long. I’d been sitting on the couch, peeking through the curtains, waiting. I thought the red-haired guy would be going to work, but he never did. The two of them sat on Owen’s porch all night, no doubt talking about me. Or the broad next door to me.
I walked into the kitchen, kicking cans and bottles out of my way as I went. It was getting harder and harder to remember a time when I didn’t have to kick trash out of my way as I walked through my house. It was starting to seem like a whole lifetime ago. The roaches didn’t even scatter the way they used to. Hell, I used to not even have roaches. The house was clean. It smelled good, I smelled good, and everything was neat. Looking around now, there were no traces of any of that. It really was no more than memories from another lifetime. A lifetime I would never again know or be a part of.
Before I fell into the well of pity that was headed my way, I leaned over the sink and looked out the window, searching the broad’s yard. I didn’t figure she’d be out yet. It was still pretty early, which made me wonder where the red-haired guy was going at such a time.
I imagined her in bed, sleeping soundly. Probably naked. Naked and waiting for me. Waiting for me to come into the house quietly, sneak up the stairs, slowly pull back the covers, and slide into bed beside her without waking her up. Then, she’d want me to pull her tight against me. I could almost feel her breasts in my hands as I thought about it. I imagined her to smell of flowers of some sort. It wasn’t something I liked, but I could overlook it. I smiled as I imagined the things I would do to her. Some of them, rough. Others, even rougher.
I felt the bulge in my underwear. I had to stop thinking of her now. I wanted to save everything so I could give it all to her.
I grunted as I realized it would have to wait. I had no idea if Owen was home or not. I wanted no interruptions when I was with the broad, so it would have to wait until I knew where those two idiots were.
I was tired from keeping watch and waiting all night. I’d sleep today, and then tonight, I’d wait for everyone to go to bed. Then, I’d go next door, where she’d be naked, waiting for ol’ Bernie Bear.
14 Jill
I heard Andy speed away. I had no doubts that Owen was with him. I wasn’t sure what they were trying to prove, but I didn’t really care.
I held my hair back with one hand and steadied myself with the other. When the heaving finally stopped, I pushed myself away from the porcelain bowl and fell against the wall. My forehead and the back of my neck were damp with sweat. My hands trembled. My stomach gurgled.
I waited a few minutes to be sure I wasn’t going to be sick any more. When I was fairly certain I would be okay, I got up and took a careful, slow, cold shower. It made me feel better immediately, but I still wasn’t myself. I was positive I’d be able to get through the day once I ate breakfast. Just in case, I had dry toast and water. I didn’t want to push my luck.
I left Andy a note telling him I loved him before I headed out the door to work.
Thinking it was a fluke that I’d been so ill earlier, I assumed the worst was over. It was a sudden onset of sickness. I didn’t have the flu or anything. I just woke up sick. But I felt better now.
Until I got to work.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I was overcome with nausea. I didn’t even make it to my parking space. I had to slam the brake and throw open the door. I leaned out and barely avoided ruining the interior of my car. I struggled to undo the seatbelt while leaning my head out the open door, and keeping my foot on the brake.
That was me; always multitasking.
When I was sure I was finished. I pulled my head in and shut the door. I turned the air conditioning on full blast and turned all the vents toward my face. The cool air made me feel better, but I was still weak and shaky. I continued on to my parking space. I sat in the car, unsure what to do. I should go in. I hated to miss work. But I couldn’t work like this. Vomiting every few minutes was not library etiquette. And even though I felt a little better now, I could feel that the worst wasn’t over.
I called my boss, telling her I couldn’t make it. She was worried, but I assured her I’d be fine. It was probably just a bug that would go away in a few hours. At her insistence, I agreed to go to the doctor. I wanted to go home and go back to bed, but I was already dressed and out. I knew my boss wouldn’t let up until I agreed to go. She worried too much. But I finally agreed to go just to shut her up.
15 Owen
Andy was careful to not be obvious as we followed Jenson up one street and down another. We kept a few cars between us when possible, and when that wasn’t possible, we stayed a few car lengths back.
“Where the hell is he going?” Andy asked, more to himself than me.
“I don’t know.” I yawned.
“I’m glad we don’t live in a big city. This would take all day.”
“You’re the one who wanted to stalk him,” I reminded him. Then I yawned. “Nobody said stalking was easy. If you want, we can go up to the prison and you can ask someone. They’ll tell you.”
“You don’t even know anybody in prison,” Andy said.
“I know somebody who’s about to be in prison,” I retorted.
“Oh, you know you’re having fun. This is the most excitement you’ve had in a long time. At least, that I know of.” He looked at me and winked, which told me he was referring to Carla.
I was getting ready to tell him how big a pervert he was, but before I could, he hit the steering wheel and cussed.
“What?” I asked.
“We lost him!”
“We what?”
“I looked at you for a second, and when I looked back, he was gone. We lost him. Damn it.”
We looked for him for quite a while. We circled the block several times where we’d last seen him. Then, we started working our way around to nearby streets. Finally, we spotted his car.
Andy straightened up, both hands on the wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead of us. “I’m not losing him this time.”
Andy didn’t have to be so tense for very long. Jenson pulled into a parking lot and parked his car. We parked at the far end of the lot where we could still see him, but he would never suspect us.
“Am Vets?” Andy asked. “Is he a veteran?”
“I don’t know,” I said, yawning. “Maybe.”
I struggled to think of what war he would’ve been in. Apparently, Andy was d
oing the same.
“Korea?” Andy pondered aloud.
“Maybe.” Then I added, “Maybe he just knows some veterans and comes here to see them.”
We were silent for a while, watching the door. Jenson remained inside.
“This doesn’t solve our puzzle at all. We must’ve missed something. He must’ve ditched the bag when we lost him.”
“Andy, he didn’t know we were following him. It’s not like he saw his opportunity and hurried up and ditched it. He didn’t have time to go anywhere far. Besides, how do you know he doesn’t still have the bag in his car?”
I could see Andy mull this over. “Yeah, maybe he still has it.” He slowly turned his head toward me, and I knew what he was thinking.
“No,” I said. “I’m tired. We’re not going to sit here and wait for him.”
“Why not?” Andy asked, as if he were a child.
“I’m exhausted, guy. I’ve been up all night, which by the way, I don’t usually do. I don’t work nights, remember? And I want to get some rest so I can go to—“
“Carla’s? Is that what you were going to say? You’d rather spend time with her than your best friend. I can’t believe you.”
“You know that isn’t true. Besides, it was you and your wife who insisted that I begin seeing someone, and as I recall, that someone was Carla. You both said so.”
“Whatever. The point is you want to rush back home so you can hang out with her when we’re on to something here, man. We could solve this riddle in a matter of minutes and put everyone’s mind at ease.”
“Or it could be hours, Andy.”
“He’s never been gone that long, has he?”
I thought about it. “I don’t know. I’ve never really paid that much attention. I’ve noticed him come and go, but never paid attention to how much time passed in between.” Another sad reminder of how caught up in my misery I’d been.
Andy was silent for a while. I tried to figure out whether or not he was really mad or just frustrated that we were so close and had still found nothing. I didn’t think he was mad. We’d never had a fight before. We’d never even had an argument. That’s not saying we’d never disagreed with each other, but we’d always done it civilly. Looking at him now, seeing the way his eyebrows were rumpled together and the intensity in his stare, I knew he wasn’t mad at me. He couldn’t be mad. It’d been his idea to hook me up with Carla. He was only wishing he could understand this Jenson thing.
As he drove me home, we talked about Jenson mostly, trying to better guess his age. We’d both known people who were a lot older than they appeared. It was possible Jenson was older than we thought. But it was also possible for him to be younger than we thought. We just couldn’t be sure. It didn’t really matter, though. The question wasn’t why Jenson was at the American Veterans building. The real question was where was the bag?
I couldn’t stop yawning.
“Man, we’re a couple of gut rumblers,” Andy said, referring to our empty stomachs. He was right, though I’d been too tired to notice. We stopped for breakfast, and it was all I could do keep from falling asleep in my pancakes.
It was almost ten o’clock before we got back to Andy’s house. I looked longingly at Carla’s house before dragging myself to mine. I fell across the bed, nearly asleep already. I wanted to call her before I was out so she’d know where I was. I managed to grab the phone off the nightstand and dial her number, which I’d fortunately memorized. I wouldn’t have had the strength to go find it.
As I listened to it ring on her end, I wondered how in the world Andy lived with such a bizarre sleep schedule. I’d missed one night and was about to go into a coma.
Carla answered on the fourth ring. I was happy to hear her voice. It was so...everything. I smiled like a fool, too tired to care, but still glad that no one was around to witness it.
After telling her I’d be there tonight and her telling me she’d be waiting, I pushed the ‘end’ button and let the phone fall on the bed beside me.
Still wearing my clothes and shoes, I fell asleep atop the blankets, dreaming of Carla.
16 Andy
I went inside, eager to sleep. I found Jill’s note on my pillow. She told me she loved me, which I already knew. That was one thing I was certain about. She loved me more than anything, as I did her. I undressed and climbed into bed, curling up with her pillow, holding her note in my hand. I breathed deeply, making sure to fill my lungs with her scent before I drifted off to sleep.
I lay there awake for a while, which I didn’t think would happen. It wasn’t the first time, though. Night shift always messed up my sleeping patterns. There were times when I was too tired to sleep, and times I fell asleep when I didn’t even feel tired. It just came with the territory. Just night shift or just day shift wouldn’t have screwed with my sleeping routine so much, but the back and forth really did a number on it.
While I waited for sleep to find me, I thought of Jenson. I tried not to, but he’s all I had. I kept seeing him dragging that bag to his trunk. It was a scene I’d watched unfold before me many, many times. And I would probably see it many more times.
I tried to imagine what I would do if he was a murderer, hacking his victims to pieces and hauling them away in trash bags. How would I deal with that?
I couldn’t see Jenson hacking anyone to pieces. He didn’t seem likely to be a butcher, what with him being old and all. But ask Gacy’s or Dahmer’s neighbors and they’ll tell you the same thing. It was possible. Anything was possible. You never knew a person, no matter how well you thought you did. Wives, husbands, children, parents, neighbors, co-workers, classmates...anyone was possible of anything at anytime. I’d seen enough news to know that was a fact.
I probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility that an old man could do such a thing, probably wouldn’t even have murder on my mind, if I hadn’t studied serial killers in college. I was going to do something in forensics, probably along the lines of forensic pathology, but Jill didn’t like the idea of me having such a morbid job. So I’d dropped the idea. But I’d maintained my interests in psychology, human behavior, and of course, murderers.
It was my study of murderers that made me suspicious of everyone. I didn’t walk around assuming everyone was a murderer. That would make me crazy. But I did walk around assuming everyone had the potential to become a murderer. That made me cautious.
I knew looks didn’t matter when it came to killers. Ted Bundy was handsome, and look what he was hiding behind his good looks. Gender didn’t matter, though it was true that most women killed their spouses or children. Not a lot of women went around killing total strangers, though Aileen Wournos was an exception. And age certainly didn’t matter. People like to think that our elders are incapable of such horrors, but Dorothea Puente and Albert Fish are prime examples of why we shouldn’t assume that the elderly are harmless.
I sighed, disappointed. We’d done what I wanted, what I thought would work. We’d followed him. It had done no more than add to the mystery.
So now what were we going to do? I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I didn’t know why I wanted to know so badly, but I did.
I wouldn’t give up.
17 Carla
I couldn’t lie to myself. I was disappointed when Owen called and said he wouldn’t be able to come by today. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted him and expected him to be there for me. It had been a long time since there’d been anyone in my life that I could totally be myself around and whose company I enjoyed so thoroughly. I know it was selfish and foolish to expect him to spend so much time with me, but I did. I wanted it very badly.
I pushed the kids on the swing, laughing at their silliness, but my mind wasn’t in it. I couldn’t stop thinking of Owen.
I tried to wrap my mind around how anyone could leave him. His wife had left him, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. It was true that I didn’t know him very well and hadn’t known him for long, but I got such a
good feeling about him. He was so kind. He was so everything, actually. To name a few of his qualities, he was handsome, funny, sweet, charming, and smart. I felt so at ease around him. I couldn’t imagine a flaw he could possibly have that would drive someone away from him.
So I was very excited when he said he’d be over this evening. I couldn’t wait. I felt as silly as a schoolgirl wanting the day to rush along so I could be with my sweetheart. I tried to relax and enjoy the feeling. It really had been so long.
I had almost everything unpacked now. The kids were settling in and adjusting to being in a different place. And I was too. It was hard to start over, especially somewhere new. But Owen had made it easier for me.
Of course, Bernie flickered through my thoughts from time to time. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened with Bernie if Owen hadn’t shown up and taken care of him.
I glanced at his house now, trying my best to look like I wasn’t. I couldn’t deny that he gave me the creeps. He could surely overpower me if he wanted to. And I had a sneaking suspicion that he wanted to.
I worried that Owen may not always be there at the right moment. If he’d been asleep the night Bernie came over...I shuddered at the thought of what would’ve happened. What if he was asleep next time? Worse yet, what if he wasn’t home? What would I do?
I couldn’t believe how defenseless I was. That was going to have to change. I had my kids to protect. And not just from Bernie. What if someone else broke in? I had no weapons. I had no skill in using any weapons. I had nothing. I was definitely going to have to do something about that. I wondered if there were any classes given in the area. Perhaps a self-defense class or firearms training class would do me some good. It would certainly ease my mind to know that if any of the horrible things that were now on my mind happened, I’d be better equipped to protect myself and my children.
The Good Neighbor Page 6