Текст книги "The Good Neighbor"

Автор книги: Kimberley A. Bettes

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I could see the unfathomable amount of love and devotion in her eyes as she looked at her kids. I watched her watching them and couldn’t help but wonder if she had so much love for everyone she allowed into her life. Had she loved their father as much as she loved them? Would she ever love me with as much enthusiasm and passion as she loved them? I certainly hoped I’d have a chance to find out.

With the kids asleep, Carla and I sat on the porch swing. Oscar lay sleeping beneath us. We talked about nothing in particular. Things we liked, things we didn’t like. Books we’d read and movies we’d watched. As it turned out, we had quite a lot of things in common.

Time went a little too quickly when I was with her. Before I knew it, Andy was driving past us on his way to work.

I glanced at my watch. “Wow. It’s late. I should go.” I didn’t want to leave. Not now, not anytime soon. I wanted to stay by her side and continue getting to know her.

She looked disappointed that I had to leave. “I’ll walk you home,” she offered. It seemed she was just as eager as I was to make the evening last a little longer. This revelation excited me. It appeared she was feeling the same way about me that I was feeling about her.

“But if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk you back home.”

Laughing, she said, “I’m a big girl. I can make my way back by myself.”

“If you insist.” We walked very slowly down the street toward my house, both of us trying to wring every possible drop out of the evening.

Standing at the end of my driveway, I noticed she was hesitant. This was the first awkward pause between us. Neither of us spoke. I patiently waited for her to figure out whatever she was trying to decide.

“Well, Owen, I guess I’d better get back. Thanks for coming to dinner. You can come by any time you want.” She had her hands in her back pockets. Very sexy.

“I can’t bother you for dinner every night.”

“I don’t just mean dinner.” I sensed a sexual undertone, but I didn’t want to react to it, just in case I was wrong. That would be humiliating for both of us. So I waited, unsure of what to say now. Finally, she added, “If you ever want to stop by to talk or visit or anything, you’re more than welcome. And it doesn’t have to be just dinner, you know. You could eat lunch at my place. Or breakfast.”

I don’t consider myself a ladies’ man, although Andy was always telling me that I easily could be. According to him, I had the charm and the looks, which made for a lethal combination. I, however, had always been a one woman kind of guy, literally having been with only one woman.

Even with my inexperience with women, I couldn’t argue that she was hitting on me. I hadn’t failed to notice she said I could eat breakfast at her place. She hadn’t said I could stop by for breakfast, which made me think she was hinting that I’d already be there for the first meal of the day. Of course, I could be completely wrong. I would’ve naturally assumed that I was wrong, if not for the way she said it or the look on her face when she said it.

Just in case I was completely wrong, I decided to take the middle road.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that sometime.”

“I hope you do,” she said sweetly. She leaned up and kissed me, just like earlier. This time, however, I noticed she left her lips on my cheek a little longer. This meant her hands rested on my arms a little long, and her breasts were lightly pressed against my chest a little longer. And I didn’t hate it.

She walked away, leaving me standing there at the end of my driveway staring after her. I watched until she went inside her house and shut the door. I felt the stupid look on my face, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to force my muscles to relax, but they disobeyed me. I even wiped my hand across my face, trying to wipe the smile away, but it was there.

It remained there until I was in bed, staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to lie next to her. The damn thing was even there the next morning, waiting for me.

I didn’t want to wish it away. It had been a long time since I’d felt much more than a frown on my face. I enjoyed the feeling that came with the smile. The feeling of warmth. The feeling of knowing someone was thinking about me. The feeling that I had something to look forward to every day, a reason to wake up.

8 Carla

I felt Owen’s eyes on me until I was in my house with the door closed. I was glad he couldn’t see my face, couldn’t see the goofy smile that seemed to be painted there.

The last thing I’d expected to happen when I moved here was exactly what was happening. I met someone, a wonderful man, who made me feel good about myself. Unlike my ex-husband, he was easy to be around. I felt safe with him. And I felt like I could trust him with anything.

I didn’t think I was falling in love with him. That would be crazy. We barely knew each other. But I believed that given a little time, it would happen. I could feel it.

I lay in bed thinking about him. His muscular build, his tall frame, and his slightly shaggy, dark hair were all enough to make me dream of him. But it was the way he looked at me that made my heart beat faster.

I could see in his eyes that he wanted to kiss me. I noticed his hesitation when we parted, as if he wasn’t sure if he should or not. I desperately wanted him to. When I’d seen that he wasn’t going to, I’d been unable to resist the urge to somehow kiss him. I was afraid that maybe I’d misread him and he didn’t want to kiss me at all, so I went for another peck on the cheek. It would do for now.

I fell asleep wondering what it would be like to have him kiss me.

I awoke a while later to the sound of someone pounding on my front door. I kicked off the blankets, dashed downstairs and threw open the door, unable to imagine who this could be.

“What the hell are you doing pounding on my door like that so early in the morning?” I asked, infuriated. The sun was just high enough to lighten the sky. My best guess was it was about five o’clock. If he woke my kids, I’d kick his ass.

The man standing before me now, clearly intoxicated, was a stranger to me. He was short, stocky, unshaven, and he smelled like cigarettes and alcohol.

He swayed backwards, but jerked himself forward to prevent falling. To keep himself steady, he put one hand on the door jam. He looked me up and down, smiling broadly. I felt violated.

Suddenly aware that I wasn’t dressed to receive company, I crossed my arms over my chest. I wore a camisole top and a pair of panties, but I still felt naked. It was surely the way he looked at me as if I were. From the look on his face, you’d think I was standing there naked, possibly even jumping up and down.

“Well?” I asked again, angrier.

In a rough voice, he said, “I wanted to come over and introduce myself. I’m your neighbor, Bernie.” He held out his hand for me to shake. It was impossible not to notice the dirt under his fingernails. The tip of each one was dark black. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “I thought maybe you’d like to come over sometime and we could...do something.” The way he was looking at me, made me sick. His eyes, already glassy from the liquor, were more so now, probably from his disgusting lust. I wasn’t positive, but I swear I saw his tongue flicker across his lips.

“That’s never going to happen. I don’t want you to come back over here, Bernie. Goodbye.” I tried to shut the door, but Bernie threw his foot in the way. A well-worn, scuffed black cowboy boot jutted through the crack in the door. Had I been faster, I might’ve gotten it shut before he had time to react and keep it from closing.

“Just come over once. If you don’t like it, which I’m sure you will, you don’t have to come back. Promise.” His words were slurring and he was gently swaying back and forth. Had he not kept one hand on the door jam, he surely would’ve fallen.

I was getting ready to throw open the door and shove Bernie down my front steps, but before I could, Owen was there.

“Bernie, you need to go home,” Owen said. His voice was so much deeper and more masculine than Bernie’s, yet it was also smoother and easier on the ears. “If she doesn’t want you here, you need to leave. And unless she invites you over, you don’t need to come back, Bernie. Understand?”

Bernie only grunted and stumbled his way across the porch, nearly fell down the steps, and finally made it into his yard. He mumbled the whole way, but I couldn’t make it out.

Owen turned to me. “Are you okay?” I could see the worry in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. A few minutes more and I don’t know if would’ve been able to say the same thing, though. Thanks for showing up so fast.” It was nice to have someone look after me. For so long, I’d only been able to depend upon myself.

“My pleasure. I couldn’t sleep so I got up early today, fortunately.”

“Want to come in?” I asked, hoping he’d say yes.

9 Owen

I stepped into Carla’s house, trying not to notice her lack of clothes. It required will power I didn’t think I possessed. Luckily, she rushed upstairs to get dressed. After watching her ascend the stairs, wishing things I probably shouldn’t, I sighed deeply. It was a cold reminder of how long it had been for me. Not just sexually, but since I’d even seen a woman that close to being naked. I felt guilty for having any type of sexual thoughts about her. I didn’t want to ruin our chances of a great relationship by being a pervert. That would be stupid.

A few minutes later, she returned, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Still sexy as hell.

“So I see you’ve met Bernie,” I said jokingly. “What’d you think?”

“Nice guy,” she said sarcastically. “Hope he visits more often.”

She plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion beside her. Obediently, I sat next to her.

“Do you want coffee or anything? I know it’s early.”

I declined the coffee. Apparently neither of us required caffeine in the morning to get going. We talked about that for a while, and then the subject returned to Bernie. I promised to do all I could to make sure Bernie didn’t bother her anymore. That seemed to make her happy, so I added ‘unless you want him to visit’, which made her laugh. She had a beautiful smile and a warm laugh. I couldn’t get enough of either.

Before I really knew what was happening, she moved around until her head was resting on my shoulder. She eased her hand into mine and left it there. She asked if it bothered me, as if that were even possible. I loved it. I didn’t tell her that, though. I just told her I didn’t mind. I couldn’t have her knowing how much I craved the feel of her skin on mine. At least not yet.

I spent most of the day at her place. We talked, we played with the kids, we finished unpacking. It was a great day. In the evening, I found it difficult to leave. I wanted to stay, to curl up on the couch – or bed – with her and share everything.

But all things must end. I made sure the windows and doors were locked before I left. We programmed my phone number into her phone, so the push of one button would summon me. Neither of us trusted Bernie. Neither of us really had a reason not to, but we’d both picked up on the same vibe and it wasn’t a trustworthy one. I let her know that if she needed me for any reason, I could be here in seconds.

I walked home slowly, taking note of Bernie’s place. Sure, I’d seen it a million times, but I’d never really looked at it before. But I did now, as I walked slowly passed his house, never taking my eyes off his residence. I didn’t even watch where I was walking. It was a good thing there were no open manholes, or I would’ve been a goner.

His grass was higher than it should be and had a few beer cans strewn about. His older model car sat in the driveway as unmaintained as ever. I’m not sure it had any hubcaps at all. Rust had begun showing in spots, and the back door on the driver’s side was missing the handle. In his drunken state, he’d parked it in a sloppy manner. Seeing it parked that way and knowing it was because he was drunk reminded me of the way he acted at Carla’s. I was furious with him.

Bernie’s house was exactly the kind of house I pictured someone like him occupying. Shabby, unkempt. Judging from the outside, I could only guess the inside to be filthy. Bernie did nothing to make anyone think otherwise. He was a slovenly person. He was disgusting by nature. Both his personal hygiene and his social etiquette left a lot to be desired. I could smell the filth from the sidewalk.

I’d never paid this much attention to Bernie before. I wasn’t sure why I was now, other than the vile way he’d treated Carla earlier. He’d lived on this street longer than I had, and I’d only talked to him once, back when Holly and I were moving in. I knew from just the one time talking to him that I didn’t like him. I’d never been able to put my finger on the reason, but I just knew there something about him I didn’t like. Holly hadn’t liked him, either. She said he gave her the creeps. It was the way he looked at her when she was outside that made her feel that way. I never knew what had done it for me.

I only knew two things. One, he physically repulsed me.

And two, he wanted Carla.

10 Andy

“Andy, what are you doing?” Jill asked.

Without moving from my position at the window, I said, “Nothing.”

“You’ve been standing there for like ten minutes. What’re you looking at?” She walked over and stood beside me, craning her neck to see around me.

“Owen. He’s just standing there, in front of Bernie’s house.”

“For ten minutes?” Jill asked, as if I’d been standing over here, peeking through the curtains for nothing.

“Yes, dear, ten minutes. He’s just standing there. Staring.” Though Jill had already lost interest and walked away, I had not. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing. It was creepy. It looked like something out of a horror movie. A man, standing perfectly still under the pale streetlamp light, staring at the front of someone’s house.

Creepy.

“What do you think he’s doing out there, Andy?” Jill was feigning interest, I could tell. She was flipping through a magazine, only humoring me with her questions. Without looking at her, I knew the expression she had on her face. Her eyebrows were raised, the corners of her mouth tight. I also knew that she hadn’t even looked up from the magazine as she’d asked about Owen. I knew her like the back of my hand.

“He’s probably on his way back from Carla’s.”

“You know, you sound a little jealous about that.”

She was right. I had said that with more venom than I’d intended. I couldn’t help it. I’d spoken before I’d had a chance to construct my words properly.

“I am jealous.”

Jill gasped.

“Not of Carla, babe. Of Owen.”

Jill gasped twice. “Andy, I had no idea. I think we need to talk,” she kidded, as though I’d meant I had a thing for Owen.

“Funny, babe.” I let the curtains fall closed and walked away from the window. “It’s just that since he’s been seeing her, I never get to see him. It’s been a couple of days since we’ve talked. Did you know that?”

Her jaw fell open. In an overly sarcastic tone, she said, “I’ll alert the media. This can’t continue to go on.” She jumped from her chair and ran for the phone. Before she got to it, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down on to my lap in the chair she’d just emptied.

“You know what I mean. We talk every day. It’s weird not talking to him. I miss him.”

Jill stared lovingly into my eyes and said, “Suck it up. You still have me.” She kissed me on the cheek quickly and got up from my lap.

“That’s part of the problem, babe. Who do you think I bitch about you to?” I said jokingly as I assumed my position at the window. “Hmm. He’s gone now.” I scanned the street, but didn’t see him.

I kissed Jill goodbye and headed out a little earlier than usual. I was hoping to catch Owen on the porch. I wasn’t kidding about missing him. He was my best friend. I enjoyed his company. I liked the way we teased each other. It made life easier to deal with and it made the days go faster.

Sure enough, he was sitting on his porch. Nothing unusual about that. It was unusual, however, for him to be staring at Bernie’s house. I watched him for a moment, realizing he had no idea I was outside. I turned and looked at Bernie’s house, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, if you can call Bernie’s house ordinary. I looked back at Owen, but his look hadn’t changed. He was glaring. I’d thought for a second that maybe he was looking at Carla’s house, but when I saw the glare, I knew that wasn’t the case.

I had to know.

I walked over as usual and took the chair beside Owen.

“Hey, Andy.” He sounded no different.

“What’s up?”

“Not much.”

I sensed he didn’t want to talk much, but I did.

“So, have you been learning anything about Jenson? Ready to follow him yet?” I laughed a little to try to lighten the mood, but I knew it had sounded as fake as it felt.

“I have a few j’s on my calendar. Haven’t seen him much the past couple days. I’ve been busy.” Whatever it was about Bernie’s house that held his attention let go, and he returned to normal Owen.

I decided to prod a bit. “What’s going on with you and Bernie?”

“He was over at Carla’s at five this morning beating on her door. She tried to close it on him, but he wasn’t going to leave.”

“You were out here that early?” It wasn’t like Owen to be up so early. He’d always preferred to stay up late and sleep late.

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Good thing, I guess. If you weren’t out here, who knows, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, who knows.”

I was just about to change the subject when Jenson’s porch light came on and his front door opened.

Owen and I looked at each other, then quickly back at Jenson’s house.

“Surely not...” I said.

We watched as Jenson brought out a trash bag. This time, it was white, and he was carrying it as if it weighed nothing. He carried it to the end of his sidewalk, put it in his trashcan, and went back inside.

We sat in silence long after he’d closed the door and extinguished the porch light.

Finally, I said, “What do you suppose is in that bag?”

Owen, not skipping a beat, said, “Trash.”

Growing excited, I said, “Let’s go look.”

Owen looked at me, puzzled. “You want to go dig through an old man’s trash? I don’t think Jill gives you enough chores to keep you busy.”

“You know you want to just as much as I do. I’m more curious now than ever. Aren’t you?”

After a brief hesitation, Owen agreed.

“Alright. We’ll wait a while, and then we’ll go. We don’t want to be seen digging through the trash.” I sat back, clasping my hands across my torso, elbows on the arms of the chair. I crossed my feet, settling in for the wait.

“We?” he asked. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Nah, I’m skipping.”

“Does Jill know that you’re so financially irresponsible? I knew she could do better.”

“Yeah, she knows it too.”

The creepy Owen that stood staring at Bernie’s house minutes earlier was gone now, replaced entirely by my best friend in the world.

11 Andy

“What time is it now?” I asked, tapping my hands on my knees.

Owen, barely glancing at his watch, said, “Two minutes later than the last time you asked. “You know, if you went to work more often, you could afford your very own watch. Then, you could function in the world like the rest of us grown-ups.”

It was just like Owen to bust my chops. I counted on it. It’s part of what I loved about our relationship.

“Yeah, and while I’m buying a watch, maybe I’ll pick you up some tampons.”

He laughed. “You saying I’m bitchy?”

“Well, I’m not saying you’re not.” I playfully – though there was some truth to it – added, “You’re hurting my feelings, you know. We haven’t spent much time together lately and now that we are...well, I kind of feel like you don’t want to.” It was true. Owen hadn’t said much in the two hours we’d been sitting on his porch. I wasn’t sure if he was quiet because he was thinking about Carla, or maybe he didn’t have anything to say that didn’t involve Carla and he didn’t want to talk about her. Or maybe he was thinking about whatever had caused him to stare at Bernie’s house. I wasn’t sure.

“And let me guess; I don’t take you anywhere anymore.” Owen looked at me with a slight smile and said, “Alright. Let’s do this.” He stood. “I’m afraid if I sit here with you any longer, we’ll start holding hands and knitting.”

We laughed. There was my best friend, Owen. Humorous, the way I liked him.

As we crossed the street, we looked around, making sure no one was out. We knew that what we were about to do wasn’t illegal in any way. Everyone knew that once you put your trash on the curb, it was no longer yours. Anyone could go through it, even taking it, and there was nothing that could be done. But it still felt like we had to sneak. It felt like we were committing a crime.

It was exhilarating.

We stood at Jenson’s trash can, staring at it. We argued a bit about who would lift the lid. We decided the lid-lifter wouldn’t have to tear open the bag, but the job of digging through the trash would be a joint effort.

And we began.

Owen lifted the lid with a lot of flare and a ‘tah-dah’. Wasn’t he cute? I, on the other hand, was nervous. I’d spent a long time wondering about what this old guy was doing over here to cause him to hide his trash. Now here I was, seconds away from finding out. My hands trembled as I tried to undo the knot that held the bag closed.

Owen chuckled. “Want me to get that for you, Nancy?”

I laughed. “I got it.”

“Just rip it already. I didn’t bring my tent because I wasn’t expecting to be over here all night.”

I ripped the bag open and gasped.

“What is it?” Owen asked quickly, looking into the can.

“It’s trash.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well, yeah. A little. I mean, it’s not like I wanted to find chopped up body parts or anything, but I expected more than trash.” I reached in and rummaged around, making sure there was nothing I was missing.

“Yeah,” Owen retorted. “Who’d have thought someone would have put trash in a trash can? What is the world coming to? Next thing you know, people will be putting files in filing cabinets and taking baths in bath tubs.” He shook his head in feigned disbelief. “It’s a shame, really.”

“You know what I mean. How could this just be trash?” I pointed at a bloody tissue. “Look at that, Owen. Looks like you’re not the only one who needs tampons.”

“That’s disgusting.”

We replaced the lid and walked back to Owen’s porch, where we sat contemplating what we’d seen – or more accurately, what we hadn’t seen.

We talked about how we’d expected to find something – anything – to explain Jenson’s actions, but instead had walked away more confused than ever. If he had regular trash, and he disposed of it in a regular manner, what was in the black bags? And why did he dispose of them in such an odd manner? Where did he take them? It was killing me to know what was in them.

We figured the best way to figure out Jenson was to piece together what we knew of him, which was next to nothing. But we pooled our information anyway. It was pretty much a waste of time, though. We figured out nothing we didn’t already know.

“Carla pointed out something to me that I’d missed,” Owen said.

He told me about the two-year theory. All the deaths – which hadn’t seemed odd as they happened, but looking back now seemed very peculiar – had taken place since Jenson’s arrival to Hewitt Street, just over two years ago.

I thought about what he said. It was true. I don’t know how we’d missed it, but we had. We’d never realized how many odd things had happened on this street because as they happened, they just appeared to be horrible twists of fate. Terrible things happen all the time, everywhere. To think our little street was an exception was crazy thinking. But it also seemed crazy to think that so many terrible things could happen to a small group of people and still be considered happenstance.

Three deaths, two years, one street.

That was one hell of a coincidence.

I looked at Owen. It was difficult to read his face with so little light, but he appeared to be worried, probably concerned more about Carla and her kids than himself. Typical Owen. Out of morbid curiosity, as well as concern for my friend and his girlfriend, I smiled mischievously and asked, “You still against stalking?”

12 Owen

Andy seemed shocked and surprised about the two-year theory. He couldn’t believe we hadn’t noticed the relationship between Jenson’s arrival and the three deaths that had occurred on our street. He felt bad that we’d been so consumed with our own lives, but I assured him that that’s just the way things were. There was no reason to feel guilty about anything. It was human nature, a type of self-preservation, to be more focused on us and things that affect us than on anyone else.

We talked into the morning light about the things in each of our lives’ that had held our attention in the last two years. A recap while we waited for daylight.

For Andy and Jill, the past two years had been full of ups and downs. They’d been trying to have a baby. It seemed once that it was going to happen for them. Jill had gotten pregnant, only to miscarry two months later. They’d been devastated for a while, but figured it was meant to be. They’d been trying since.

Andy’s father had suffered a stroke. There was a while when it didn’t appear he was going to make it, but he did. After months of therapy, he pulled through virtually unchanged. He’d gone from being unable to speak or use his right side to doing everything he was before, with only a hint of a speech impediment. He was so proud of himself, as he should’ve been. He worked so hard to get better. Six weeks after leaving the hospital, he had a heart attack in his sleep and died. After his father’s death, Andy and his brother took turns staying with their mother. In the end, she’d gone to live with Andy’s brother.

And me, well, I’d spent the first of the previous two years working myself to death, and the last year depressed. Most of that time was spent on the front porch, trying to forget everything that had ever happened within the walls of my house. I’d considered moving, but wasn’t prepared to let go. I didn’t want to face the memories, but I didn’t want to erase them either. Selling the house had never been an option for me. So I’d taken to the front porch.

Holly had been my only family, and when she left, in her place remained a huge hole. That hole seemed permanent until Carla moved in. The time spent with Carla was time well spent. The ache that I’d suffered through every day had finally eased. The knot in my stomach had relaxed. The weight that had felt so heavy on my shoulders had finally been lifted. I was starting to see things in a new and different light now. My world wasn’t made up of only shades of grey.

So looking back, it was easy to see how we’d missed the correlation between the many events that had taken place on Hewitt Street. We’d all been caught up in our own versions of hell, too far down to see much else.

We decided then, at about five in the morning, that we were going to pay closer attention. Our eyes were open now, and it was very unlikely that anything else was going to be escaping us. We agreed that in addition to keeping watch, we would do a little digging, see what we could come up with as far as what lay beneath the horrible events that had occurred on our sleepy little street.

Maybe it was all a big coincidence. Maybe there would be nothing to find. Maybe sometimes these things just happened. The principle of three. You know, people always die in threes. Well, with the old couple and Elaine, that made three. Maybe the stress we’d been under lately had finally caused us to crack.

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.