Reincarnated

When my parents passed away, I thought about selling the family home. I was alone and the space made the loneliness more prominent. Sometimes, when I had one of my sleepless nights, I would hear my mother’s voice call my name from the other side of the house or the creak of dad’s worn armchair as he settled into it after supper. The noises were frightening. The memories they brought with them were painful.

But I learned to live with the ghosts of my past because I had no one else to keep me company. Also, I really did love this neighborhood.

I thought that now as I adjusted the head of the watering hose so that a stream flowed freely from the holes onto my small, groomed garden. I imagined my tomato plants raising their bowed leafy heads despite the weight of ripening fruit hanging off of them, drinking in the water that I provided for them. My cucumbers would roll in the dampened earth, relishing the drink like a dog does after a good hunt.

I smiled to myself at these silly thoughts and hummed a tuneless song under my breath.

Yes, life could sometimes be beautiful. When I was younger, I didn’t appreciate the magic of growth and life as I do now. The appreciation came with heartbreak and loss, I suppose.

I pushed back the image that attempted to burden me, to ruin my perfect day. Instead, I turned sideways to let the stream of water lap at one of my five blueberry bushes.

These grew between my yard and the neighbor’s property, the new ones I mean. I hadn’t seen much of the family that had moved next door since four nights ago when that girl had slipped out of my window.

After her sudden appearance and then disappearance, I had become confused and needed several days, four exactly, to recuperate. It wasn’t that I was upset that she had been doing…what? And I wasn’t going to tell her parents either. But I was still thinking about her face, my wife’s face.

Was it possible that there could have been a person with the same appearance as my wife without there being a connection? Sure, I guess. I had heard of people all over the world having a sort of twin, but I’ve never seen a duo myself. And if I had, I couldn’t quite accept that two people who had no relation to each other would look so much alike.

I knew that if I had asked Sasha, she could’ve explained it to me quickly and without a fuss. I was being a stupid man by not calling her, but I was afraid. Sasha didn’t scare me, well, maybe a little…but I didn’t want her to think I was having a relapse.

I pursed my lips thoughtfully and moved the head of the hose towards the second bush. To my surprise, the expanse of the neighbor’s yard was no longer empty. The little boy who had rushed inside that house with his eyes glued to the portable game system was standing on the other side of my bushes, holding a plastic bowl in his hands.

“I didn’t scare you did I, mister?” he asked in what he thought was a sincere manner. To me, he sounded almost imploring, as if he did mean to scare me. I shook my head, too startled by his sudden presence to talk. Plus, I wasn’t really good with children. Actually, I wasn’t good with anyone.

He smiled toothily at me. I noticed that his teeth were very large, much too large for his small head.

“Are these your blueberries?” he talked again, pointing one dirty finger towards my bushes, “I guess they are ‘cause you’re watering them.” I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or trying to be friendly. Sasha had told me before that I jumped to conclusions about people too quickly.

“I uh…did you want some of them?” I asked him quietly, my voice sounding hoarse to my own ears. I realized that my finger was still squeezing the hose lever, so I let it go gently, watching the stream cease its watering. The boy beamed at me, showing me that smile again. I decided that the boy wasn’t ugly and he would grow into his teeth eventually.

“Thanks, mister!” he exclaimed and without a pause began picking my blueberries. I stood in my place, watching him silently, thinking that I would have to postpone my blueberry pie by another week or so. I was sure that this carrot-top would not leave me any filling by the time he was through.

“Frankie! What are you doing picking that man’s blueberries!” the short woman who I assumed was Frankie’s mother shouted at him from their doorstep. I watched her stomp her way towards us, hands on her hips. Last week, when she had gotten out of their family SUV, I considered her quite average looking. Now, closer, I could see that she was once very beautiful; she was still beautiful despite her thickening hips and wide arms.

Frankie had paused his raid, one blue-tinted hand shoved into his mouth and the other one dumping a hand-full of blueberries into the bowl. I commanded myself to remember this scene for later evaluation because of its comedic value. I did like to laugh.

The red-haired woman glanced disapprovingly at her son, and I decided to step in to his aid. “I told him he could, uh, pick them. It’s really alright.” She looked at me disbelievingly and then slowly smiled, relief kicking into her pleasant face.

“You’re Mr. Fall, correct?”

“Please, I prefer to be called Stephen…” I wrung my hands together; the introduction of two people in such a short amount of time disturbed me. I wondered how much longer this would last.

“Stephen then. I’m sorry we hadn’t a chance to meet before this. You know how it is to move. It’s easier to pack than unpack. Plus, the kids haven’t been much help at all so it’s been just me. Well, I guess Fred helps sometimes...but her works so much…oh, listen to me! Blabbering! My name is Sally, dearest, and I’m so pleased to meet you!” Sally held out her hand. I looked at it, a bit overwhelmed. Something inside me forced me to touch her fingers gingerly with mine. I dropped my hand quickly with that gesture. Frankie had resumed pillaging my bushes.

Sally didn’t seem to mind my awkward silence. She beamed cheerfully at me, and I couldn’t decide if she was honestly pleased to meet me or if she was deciding to ignore my behavior. I did know how I was behaving…like a crazy person. Sasha would be disappointed, but I really couldn’t help it. It was rare that I spoke to the neighbors, especially to new ones.

Sally tsked, bringing me out of my thoughts. She turned slightly and pointed at the slim teenager appearing from around the corner of the house, carrying a beach towel in her hands. “There’s Ruby. Ruby! Say hello to Mr. Fall,” she glanced at me, “I mean, Stephen!” Ruby turned her head towards her mother’s voice, her red waves bouncing against her arms as she did so. I held my breath as her eyes met mine. Even across the yard, I could see the recognition and guilt in them.

The girl hurried her step without saying anything and disappeared inside the house before I could even blink. Sally shook her head and gave me an apologetic look. “She’s going through a difficult stage, but she’s not usually that unfriendly. Anyway, Stephen, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself, as I’ve said before, and I was wondering if you wanted to join us for a bar-b-q this evening?”

I was dumbfounded. This just kept getting stranger and stranger. I almost slapped myself for the next word that came out of my mouth.

“Sure,” I replied.

Sally beamed, taking her son by his shoulder and brining him closer to her in an attempt to make him stop shoveling blueberries into his mouth, the bowl long forgotten. “That’s just peachy! We’ll see you at 7 P.M. sharp then. Please feel free to bring food.”

And as she turned on her heel and made her way back to her home, dragging her son behind her, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.