“It’s nice to see you again, Shirley. We’re in the middle of dinner, however. This isn’t a good time.”
“I won’t trouble you for long.”
Shirley passed her by as though she owned the house, striding down the hall and into the kitchen. I shrugged as Lindsey rolled her eyes, then followed. The elderly neighbor inspected the yet unpacked boxes, perhaps judging within her mind that Lindsey should have had her house in order by now.
She stood in the kitchen, facing us, her arms crossed over her almost nonexistent bosom. Her gaze lingered on my partially healed scars, then roved to Lindsey’s still red wrists she didn’t bother to conceal. “There’s no way to say this except be direct. You two are nothing but trouble.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Who are you to march into my house and be rude?” Lindsey exclaimed. “There’s no call to say something like that.”
“Since you came here,” Shirley continued, undeterred, “we’ve had the police, ambulances, fires, and what all in the neighborhood. We live here, and we want peace. There won’t be as long as you two are around.”
I laughed. “You think we’re just going to up and move because you say so? Not gonna happen.”
Shirley glared. “If we must, we’ll file a lawsuit,” she declared. “The judge will force you to leave.”
“You think so?” Lindsey asked, her brow lifted. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you and these others haven’t been harmed by us living here.”
“Our peace has been disturbed.” Shirley lifted her chin. “We have the right to enjoy our homes.”
“As do we,” Lindsey snapped.
I rubbed my forehead, trying to not laugh at the image of a court case in which Shirley and the neighbors are informed they haven’t the right to evict us from our homes.The judge says, why am I bothered with this shit?
“I want to be polite here, Shirley,” I said, unable to stop grinning, “but you’re an idiot.”
“And you’re a drug dealer,” she screeched. “A murderer. We don’t want you here.”
“Get out.” Lindsey’s voice hardened into steel. “Leave my house. If you keep saying such shit about Brody, we’ll sue you for slander. Got it?”
“We can prove it.”
“Good luck with that,” I said, gesturing for Shirley to leave the kitchen. “I’d like to see you try.”
“We’ll hire lawyers.” Shirley’s chin went up.
Lindsey paced forward. Whatever Shirley saw in her expression must have alarmed her, for her defiance sagged from her face.
“You’re accusing him of terrible things,” Lindsey said, her voice deadly soft. “That’s not neighborly. Leave my house or not, Shirley. Stay, and we’ll ask the cops to drag you out. Your choice.”
“This man is evil,” Shirley hissed. “You’ll find out the hard way, Lindsey. You should listen to me.”
Her chin high again, the old lady stalked past us and out of the kitchen. Lindsey covered her face with her hands. I gripped her shoulder briefly before following Shirley to make sure she left, and to lock the door behind her. She marched briskly down the walk under the interested stares of several folks crowded on the driveway opposite Lindsey’s house.
I flipped them the bird, then shut the door.
“How about that,” I commented, returning to Lindsey. “Our neighbors don’t like us.”
“They can kiss my backside.”
I enfolded her in my arms, pressing her face into my shoulder. “It’s funny. Then suddenly, it isn’t funny anymore.”
***
Hours later, I drowsed on the sofa in front of some movie I barely had an interest in while Lindsey typed on her laptop in her office. We’d both blown off Shirley’s threats, yet the uneasiness her visit brought didn’t depart quite so easily. I’d lived here peacefully for years without knowing a soul, and suddenly we’re neighborhood pariahs.
I dropped more deeply into sleep, my head cradled on my arm, the movie’s soundtrack lulling me into strange dreams. I saw shadow figures like phantoms, heard a sound akin to a click. The shapes moved with a rustling sound, dry, like reptilian scales rubbing together. Behind the black figures, music played, voices spoke in garbled voices.
