A Bedroom Community

"You'd love it here!" Mary told Ellen a few months ago. After a rather unexpected promotion, Ellen hunted for her first house. So far, she liked it here, where the jolly laughter of the children in the afternoons alternated with the utter silence of the evenings.  She settled in a comfortable routine of evening runs, trash days and weekly trips to the grocery store.

"Have you seen our new neighbor? He moved in last week. He's rather hot." Mary told her yesterday and Ellen's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She looked at Mary, maybe with a bit of envy for her marriage to a well-mannered  man, blessed with two obnoxious children.

"I'm married, not blind." Mary laughed with a twinkle in her eyes.

She filed away the image of Channing Tatum living next door and focused her mind on tomorrow's agenda. The steady pace of jogging and the lull of music in her earphones dimmed her surroundings. A loud crash jarred her back to reality, and she found herself staring into the open garage of her new neighbor.

He sat with his back at her, and studied a shelf with wooden sculptures. In different stages of completion, they lay in disarray on the shelf and on the floor. Some of them showed signs of recent damage, as if they fell or someone knocked them on purpose.

Tall, with black hair, broad back, white shirt and baggy blue jeans, her neighbor remained securely in the movie star category.

"Excuse me, is everything all right?" Ellen tried.

He turned swiftly. She winced as blue eyes bore into her, and dark eyebrows puckered above a nose broken a few times. Scratch off Channing.

He held his right hand with his left, and a red trail of blood told her what happened earlier.

"May I help? Do you have a first-aid kit, if not I could..."

"I don't need nothing. Please leave." He said in a barely restrained voice.

"I am sorry; I didn't mean..."

He yelled.
"Get out of my property!"

She ran home and locked her door, still unsure of what just happened.

Later, that night, Mary comforted her.
"Oh dear, I am so sorry. Edith, across the street, saw everything. How he broke the sculptures and how he treated you. He made those, you know. Edith said he worked in his garage every day, after work."

Ellen shook her head and smiled.
"I'm all right, really. No damage done."

Mary gave her another cursory look and shrugged.
"We have a block party this weekend, at my house. Pat wasn't happy; however, our house is the farthest from... his and with the kids and whatnot, we decided that is for the best. And our neighborhood looked so promising a few months ago. We hope you could come."

Ellen blinked in disbelief and wondered what else she didn't know about Mary and Pat... However, she accepted.

"Sure, Mary, see you at the party on Saturday."

When the weekend came, Ellen couldn't help, not to glance toward the house on the other end of the street. Nothing stirred, as if nobody ever lived there.

A few weeks after, Ellen discovered that life in the suburbs wasn't all jogging and shopping. A polite letter invited her to landscape the flowerbeds. Armed with a small shovel, she scratched the front yard under Pat's patronizing look. She couldn't tell, which burned hotter, the sun or his sneering look. A shadow fell over her, and she heard her new neighbor's gruff voice.

"Use this. Or better, let me shovel it."

Ellen thanked him and asked.
"I might need the shovel later for the backyard."

"Ok,  bring it back to me when you're done."
He turned to leave; however, Ellen didn't miss his hostile stance and his clenched fists when he greeted Pat.

Two flowerbeds in the backyard would bring enough cheer this summer; Ellen thought ruefully. She gathered her courage to approach the house everyone seemed to avoid and return the shovel. She knocked softly on the cracked door. A loud bellow covered the sound of her fingers on the wooden frame.

"I knew you'd never amount to anything, Danny. Look at your garage; art, sculpture, that is for girls. When would you grow up to be a man? At your age..."

Ellen pushed the door and peered into the house. A woman sat ramrod straight on the couch, while a man, dressed in perfect golf attire, paced back and forth. She rested the shovel on the wall and tiptoed away from the house.

A good run around the track at the nearby stadium would help her clear her mind. She jumped in her car and returned two hours later sweaty and tired, only to find her quiet street teeming with police. She stopped to comfort a weeping Edith, outside the yellow ribbon that surrounded her house.

"Good thing he spotted the burglar when he did... You know, they both had a gun, and I thought they'd shoot each other. They didn't because Danny... oh dear, I fear his nose is broken again. "

Ellen looked for Danny. However, she couldn't see him anywhere. Pat was there too happy to relate the facts to the police.

Quiet settled over the small bedroom community again, with its ever-present rhythm: work, jog, shopping. Children filled with laughter the street once more, and Mary came with an invitation for the first block party after the "incident."

"It's this Saturday, in our backyard. You know, after what Danny did, we don't want to hurt his feelings. What, with the kids, Pat doesn't want Danny around them. You know, Pat was at home when it happened and saw it all."

Ellen stifled a retort and smiled instead.
"Mary, could I bring a guest to the party?"
Mary beamed.
"Sure, it was about time, dear."

A short time later, Ellen knocked at Danny's door.
"Danny, there is this party this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d like to go. "