7
Nora
I never know what to do with my days off, which is why I prefer to stay at work. But Granny’s gentle nudge convinced me to take a day off. It ended up being more like half a day as I stopped by the diner before going to the store and served a couple of tables before being kicked out, but it still counts.
After restocking our pantry and fridge and snatching the strawberry milk I absolutely didn’t need, I cleaned the house with an odd burst of energy coming out of nowhere. My new neighbor’s face popping up in my mind had nothing to do with it. Unless some tingling of curiosity can count as fuel.
With all possible day tasks complete, I make a round with some burning sage and then head outside on the porch to my favorite chair, where I bury myself under a big blanket and pretend to be a statue so the damn bird will show me his hiding spot. I know he’s around, just waiting for me to drop my guard so he can begin his scream fest.
At this point, I’m not above chopping him into tiny piecesfor a nice stew. This animal has been the bane of my existence for the past few months. I have permanent dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. The thing doesn’t follow the normal pattern of waking up after the sunrise, no. He’s ready to go when even the sun is still sleeping. I’m convinced he’s a psychopath.
I don’t even know where he came from, but one day, he just appeared in front of my house around dawn with his awful singing and never left.
He’s as off-key as naturally possible but with the lungs of a lion, making his cock-a-doodling numerous times worse. It’s tiring. He also shows up like the Phantom of the Opera out of thin air to do his dirty deed, so today I’ve made it my mission to catch the bastard.
I’ve been here for almost an hour without moving a muscle when a car pulls up to my neighbor’s house. I got a good look at it at the grocery store when I made my second mission to antagonize him. A giant ass truck, an F-150.
Typical, I snort mentally. A man like him would take something as atrocious as that tank. Probably compensating for his other tiny features. My eyes guiltily dart toward my Tacoma whichisa truck too, but somehow my baby seems smaller and more refined compared to his monster.
I asked around today about the house in hopes that he was only renting it for the summer. Turns out he bought it. And I didn’t even know while working at the gossipiest place in town.
My theory is that the new realtor from Little Hope is behind it. He is the sweetest—and most stylish—person possible, who failed to tell me during his visit a few days ago that the house was sold. That stylish traitor, I’ll never compliment his outfits again. This is how we sort of bonded, over clothes. He doesn’t seem to fit into the mold of a small-town citizen,and neither do I.
The neighbor gets out of his truck and walks around it. Then he opens the front door, and a skinny, legging-clad leg exits, followed by the body of a girl with a giant crown of wild, black curls about twelve or thirteen. He helps her down in a swishing movement, making her giggle.
I drop to my knees, hiding behind the railing. It might have been too loud because the man whips around, covering the girl with his body. The teenage girl. She can’t be his daughter because everyone and their dog in town knows that the man is single with no kids. In small towns, people make it their business to learn everything about newcomers, and once I was aware of him moving next to me, I made sure to learn as much as I possibly could in one morning without asking for Cheryl’s help.
Staying vigilant and very quiet, I crawl toward the railing so I can peek between the bars. The man stands with his back to the girl, with one hand behind him, as if not letting her move.
I feel a bubble of rage rising up in my chest seeing him look around, keeping a paranoid posture. When he finds no one—because I’m very sneaky—he places his ginormous paw on the girl’s shoulder and leads her toward the house. She seems so small compared to his large body with the top of her head barely reaching his chest.
I rack my brain, trying to remember if I missed anyone mentioning anything about kids and come up blank—the man has no wife or kids.
When they’re next to his front door, he looks around one more time, squinting his eyes in the direction of my house, and ushers her inside.
Not wasting any more time, I run inside the house and call Cheryl.
“What’s up?”
“What’s up is that my new neighbor just dragged ateenage girl into his house!” I hiss into the phone, rushing to the window so I can keep an eye out on his house.
“Wait. What?”
“Yes!” I hide under the window, peeking one eye out. “You have to come. Right now!”
“Are you sure it’s not his daughter? And what do you mean ‘dragged’?”A note of doubt in her voice lets me know I have her attention.
Well, maybe not ‘dragged’ exactly, but he sure was acting shady, and Cheryl doesn’t need to know specifics—my intuition amplified by the moonlight and my newly open chakras should be enough to ring a warning bell for her. “Very sure. He doesn’t have any kids per the rumor mill which never fails. Hurry up! I’ll go there right now!”
Cheryl’s voice turns panicked.“No! If he’s really what you think he is, don’t go there. You could make it worse. Let the professionals deal with it.”
I’m contemplating if I should listen to her when she hears my hesitation.
“Nora, don’t go over there. We’re on the way.”
“Fine. Hurry up though.”
Without wasting any more precious minutes, I hang up, letting her focus on getting here. I won’t go inside the house as I’ve promised, but I sure can sneak around in case she needs my help. Good thing Grams is having her weekly bingo night at her friend’s house and is not here to witness this atrocious crime. She seems to be taken by this brute, but I can’t be fooled.
