It Lived Across the Street: Part 1 (948 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.85 on 16 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Phoenix (View user info) at 2004-08-24 19:22:41 EDT
<< Much to my dismay, this is based on a true story. To protect myself and those who live with me, the names of my neighbors have been changed for the sake of their privacy (and because I don't want my neighbor pounding down our door yelling that he read what I wrote about him on that there Int'rnet) >>
Tony was your average, run-of-the-mill blue collar guy. If I had to guess his age, I'd say 35, although I'm not really sure as I never thought to ask. His features were impossible to pin an age on - weathered and worn down looks could've made him 40-something, childish eyes and a mischievous grin could've put him in his late 20s, and he wore the same clothes typical of a poorly dressed pre-teen. More often than not, he donned a faded orange baseball cap, and I couldn't distinguish whether he had a permanent limp in his walk or if it was just a peppy skip.
He and his wife, Sara, moved into the house across the street shortly after I moved in with Matt. They had a little boy who was about 8 or 9, and Sara had two daughters - 13 and 15 - from her previous marriage who only came to visit during the summer. On the outside, they were just like almost every other family in America - kid of their own, stepkids, in the prime of their second marriage. Our conversations with them were brief and neighborly: we'd always wave to each other if they were outside when we pulled into our driveway and vice versa; Matt and Tony joked about the heinous chore of hanging up Christmas lights over the holiday season when their light-hanging tasks coincided; we watched their dog for them while they were out of town. If there was something wrong with this family, it was not evident on the exterior.
This past June it became apparent that Tony and Sara's marriage wasn't exactly what it seemed. As we all know, looks can be deceiving.
I happened to be sitting out in my garage sucking back a beer the day the shit hit the fan (to put it eloquently), watching with feigned interest as Sara stuffed bag after bag of luggage into the seemingly bottomless trunk of her Tercel. (On a side note, I was sitting in my garage because we have a couch out there and it's proven to be a worthy place to do some stoned people watching, not because I like hanging out with my car.) Tony pulled up in Sara's other car, an aquamarine Corolla, just as it seemed she had completed filing luggage into her tan Tercel.
She turned to Tony giving him a look so filled with fire it could've melted glaciers in Alaska. It was strange to see her mad at him, huffing and puffing, towering over him like an enraged goddess. Tony stood at a meager 4' 8" (give or take), and Sara, slightly taller and slightly heavier, looked massive in comparison when she was visibly mad.
"What the fuck are you doing with my daughter's car?" Sara bellowed in a voice I didn't know could emit from a woman's vocal chords. "This shit's getting fucking RIDICULOUS, Tony." She stormed back into their house and emerged again with yet another piece of luggage for her already filled trunk. Tony seemed flabbergasted and merely stood by fiddling with the car keys he held in his hands. "I'm leaving," she stated. "I'm going away now."
"Come on now, Sarah. What the fuck is this shit?" Tony finally spoke up. She was screaming incoherently now, but I made out an occasional obscenity in her tirade. I was in the dark (as of this point) about what events had led them to this melodrama in the cul-de-sac, but was glad to see I wasn't the only nosey neighbor watching the events unfurl across the street with a peeked curiosity. Tony was babbling defensively, saying something about calling the police, something about domestic violence. It seems so distant and forlorn when it's the woman who's committing the violence.
In response, Sara stabbed an accusing finger in the direction of Tony. "Go ahead, you fucking pussy. Call the fucking police."
Their son was screaming now, loud heart wrenching sobs, and Sara's daughter grabbed her mom's arm. "Please Mom. PLEASE, let's just go."
Sara yanked her arm away from her daughter's grip and walked toward Tony with hell in her eyes, stopping inches away from his emasculated figure. "You piece of shit," she roared into his face. "I've got a bullet with your name on it, you piece of shit." She turned on her heel then and rounded her children up into the packed-full Tercel. "I'm leaving," she reiterated. "I'm fucking leaving. I'm taking the kids to my mother's."
The tires of her car squealed in protest as she backed out of the driveway, and in a last effort to prevent her from leaving, Tony jumped in front of the car. She didn't hit him - not hard, at least - but the car continued to make a noise that I imagine must've been its little Tercel engine revving. "Get out of my fucking way," Sara growled out the window, ignoring Tony's frequent threats to call the police. A few more obscenities were exchanged before Tony finally stepped aside to let the car with his wife and son and stepdaughter inside roar by and disappear down the street.
I didn't know it then, but this was just the beginning of finding out what our neighbor Tony was *really* like. I wish I hadn't seen the events that occurred that fateful night in June, but I somehow think my absence wouldn't have done much to change our involvement in the following weeks. All of us - myself, Matt, and especially our roommate Joe - were unwilling pulled into the unfolding drama of Tony's life.
* * *
I didn't see Tony again until more than a week after the shouting match that had transpired in front of his house. He was standing in his driveway, looking almost lost, looking confused and in some ways almost deranged, staring intently at our house as though it held some deep dark secret, as though he were determined on uprooting whatever that deep dark secret may be.
I waved to him as I went in, but he didn't seem to see me. He seemed quite preoccupied. Matt wasn't home from work yet, so I invited Joe to have a beer in the garage with me (our garage really is quite the hang out), and when he spotted us gulping our brews, Tony wandered over. I offered him a seat but he refused, choosing instead to stand and suspiciously eye Joe.
"That bitch Sara's been stealing my mail," was the first thing he said, his eyes never leaving Joe. He didn't offer any explanations of their malignant behavior only a couple weeks prior, and in turn I offered no apology for being so appallingly nosey - he obviously didn't seem to mind as it appeared he was divulging more personal information on his own accord. "I KNOW she has been 'cause there were some checks I was supposed to receive today that never came through." Joe remained silent, staring wonderingly at the short man from across the street. I picked at an imaginary piece of food stuck between my teeth.
He mistook our silence as an invitation to go on and ended up pacing our garage for more than an hour explaining how he'd done jail time for meth, and he was absolutely SURE that Sara had been doing some dope for a while. He told us she never used to be violent, not until recently when one day dirty spoons started showing up in the silverware drawer and a candle remained constantly lit in the bathroom, and he somehow managed to trace that to what he said was Sara's undeniable addiction to dope. He said she'd only lately started hitting him, cornering him when she could and beating the living hell out of him. And now, "that cunt is stealing my checks."
After our obviously disinterested nods and our occasional "uh-huh"s and "mm-hmm"s, he ran his hand over the brim of his disgustingly dirty orange cap and asked us if we could keep an eye on his mailbox for him, "in case, you know, someone comes stealing more of my mail." Sure, mail theft is a huge problem in Reno. I told him I would as much as possible, but I work during the day so I wasn't making any promises.
"Yeah, well, you know," he said as he was backing out of the garage. "Just keep a look out. For strange activities or anything. Unless you guys are in on it." He looked at Joe when he said this, raised a suspicious eyebrow in his direction. "And that's cool, you know. If you guys are in on it, if you guys are stealing my mail, just let me know. We'll be cool." His eyes never left Joe.
It seemed strange that he'd accuse us of stealing his mail - we'd hardly ever talked to him before, and suddenly we were suspect for supposed "missing" mail. I guess the possibility of it being the post office's fault never seemed a likely possibility to him. Looking back on it now, his accusations of stolen mail seem trivial compared to his allegations that came in later weeks, his mad thoughts that we had something to do with his wife leaving.
To be continued.....
User Reviews
Submitted by beer-turtle (user info) at 2008-07-26 20:38:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish I knew what happened to her...i miss her
maybe crazy dude got em for stealing the mail...
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2007-12-19 22:54:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I wonder if this will ever get finished.....It was good so far!
Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2005-02-01 10:26:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Whatever happened to this chick?
Submitted by PukingDog (user info) at 2004-10-12 23:11:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I like it, of course. However I must admit that I sought you out (finally) to let you know that even through months of travel, moving, etc., you have remained inspiring to me to the point that I had a clear, if sophomoric, vision of what you seem to be. Subsequently, I wrote it and posted it. You can find it, and please, no need to respond to it, just know that it comes from a fantasy or illusion or whatever that I project upon you based on what I have read... good day
Submitted by Mr-Boo (user info) at 2004-09-14 11:08:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-08-26 13:17:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
marry me.
Submitted by nathan_s (user info) at 2004-08-25 11:10:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You people and your damn to be continued!
Post all at once! I never find the rest of it.
Ohh yea, great story. Felt like I was there. Now I want to know more so stop working and finish!
Submitted by volklcess (user info) at 2004-08-25 10:57:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
DonkeyOnTheEdge,
That's fine as long as I get to sleep with Kristen and Val, too.
What?
:-)
Phoenix
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2004-08-25 09:49:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I can't wait to see more.
Submitted by Malificent (user info) at 2004-08-25 04:08:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Mmm, I like.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2004-08-25 00:38:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Your neighbor creeps me out. And I think he's responsible for that egg carton in your driveway. Spooky little man. Ugh.
Submitted by Alithewonderllama (user info) at 2004-08-24 21:41:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Ooh, juicy neighbour goss, i just love it...
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2004-08-24 21:23:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good God. Marry me? We'll become mormons so I can marry Kristen and Val, too. How bout it?
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2004-08-24 20:31:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
More, please!
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-08-24 20:12:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is absolutely a +2. What a bizarre story. I can't wait for the next one.
Submitted by MisterUnfortunate (user info) at 2004-08-24 20:05:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Not quite a +2, but I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of the story.