Chapter 8

I had my breakfast of reheated leftover pizza and began my ritualistic log of daily neighborly activities. First was Adam and Samantha were arguing about wanting to change genders. She thought he was kidding. Until he proved he was going through therapy till he was either dissuaded or convinced. He seemed determined to be a woman. His wife in a fit of rage called his mother. The woman showed up and thinking her daughter in law was an incompetent idiot till she heard what was going on. She had a heart attack and an ambulance was summoned to take her to the hospital.

Joseph and Caroline were arguing about what their son Jordon was up to. He arrived home at four in the morning. He was stinking of booze and his clothes were slightly torn. He was grounded for the rest of the semester. His phone was confiscated and so was his car.

Mitchell was on the phone about the bills that he forgot to pay. He finally got an extension. He ran to find his card and drove his Harley Davidson to the nearest ATM.

Michelle was painting on her canvases. She was playing Brahms. She was focusing on abstract painting this time. She felt it was time to give it a try. The colors were vibrant and complimentary.

Zach was on his military style exercise routine. He was doing aggressive calisthenics. At one point I thought he would rip a tendon.

Jesse was finishing his homework overlooked by his stay at home dad. He was caught playing call of duty with his friends instead of his homework. So he was grounded. According to his teachers his grades had literally tanked. So his father had hidden his games till his grades catch up. Till then his father will keep an eagle eye on him.

Marcus had just lost his wife to cancer and he was devastated. I ordered a box of cookies and had them delivered to his address. He and his wife have always been accommodating. Losing her was tremendous pain. She was irreplaceable. He came over for dinner and he saw that I was in a wheelchair again. I explained what happened and he promised things will get better.

We stayed for dinner and he walked back to his house. The entire time we were being scrutinized by the screamer and company. They watched as I waved good night and closed the door. He must have noticed I am back in the wheelchair. He knocked to ask if my therapist did something to break my back. His friends laughed at his joke. I on the other hand reached the living room and watched a documentary on animal behavior. I fell asleep on the couch and was woken up by the maid.

The screamer had cunningly managed to sneak in this time and was admiring the new decor. I ordered the maid to call mom. She hastily walked towards the phone and he blocked her. So I pressed the alarm. It was earsplitting. He tried to switch it off but he couldn't it so he finally left. He looked very angry that he was unwelcome. When he reached the door he asked me again if he could be allowed to stay over. So I reminded him this is my house. Not his grandma's. He huffed a few times and stomped off. He blared, "Unbelievable! She got an even bigger TV. It is the length of the wall now. She has installed a popcorn machine. Her lazy boy can give her a massage, has wireless speaker and has a cup holder. She even has an espresso machine and the latest gaming console. I don't think she even uses it. Such a waste. And she keeps reminding me. This ain't my grandma's house. I wish it was my grandma's house. Neighbors are allowed but not me. What do they do? Eat what is on the table, do the dishes and then wish her goodnight." He was shaking his head. So were his friends. They were discussing how they would live if they were living in my house. I ignored them and closed the door.