Love Thy Neighbor

The storm raged aggressively outside of Kevin’s window. The lights in his small apartment flickered not for the first time, and outside he could see that the young trees lining the city streets were severely bowed.  The frozen precipitation that was falling made the world a slick glossy surface and few cars braved the hill past the University.

Kevin liked looking out the window and people-watching. It was a great distraction from the papers he was supposed to be writing for his graduate courses. Sometimes, he’d observe an elderly couple struggle up the hill, arm in arm, the man chivalrously leading the woman. From his vantage point on the second floor, he could always see the lust in this gentleman’s inconspicuous glance as the gorgeous Latina in a power suit that that somehow perfectly accented her womanhood left the building immediately adjacent to his.  He’d chuckle as this curvy young lady flinched backwards from the tiny barking dogs that were being pushed in a twin baby stroller by a gentleman who seemed to perpetually wear slippers and a bathroom, irrespective to the time of day or outdoor temperature. He’d watch in awe as the young children shrieked by the bizarre man and his dogs, seemingly oblivious to the strange and fascinating world around them.

Tonight though, it was too stormy for any of these characters to be out and about.  There was no one on the street.  Staring in front of his computer, he wished desperately that the power would go out so he could further procrastinate the completion of his assignment. He needed to post his 5-page analysis of some abstruse text or another by midnight, and it was only 8pm.  For some reason, he just couldn't concentrate.   

Yawning, Kevin scanned his tiny dorm apartment. Apart from his desk, the “living room” was quite bare. A dust ball, powered by the draft coming from the window he sat by, tumbled across the floor, and he could hear the persistent hum of his tiny dorm refrigerator. The futon that he used as a bed was untidily made, and his books were scattered half-hazardly beneath it. He sighed as he regarded his overflowing laundry bag, and admitted to himself that he’d have to go to the laundry mat down the way fairly soon. He had once paid for a service to pick up his clothes and wash them for him, but after a few semesters, it had seemed rather extravagant.

He was getting up to stretch his legs and take a “break” from his paper when he heard the shriek. It was a single blast with penetrating force, and shocking amplitude. As though on cue, the lights in the apartment went out and for a moment, there was eerie silence as though the storm had decided to take a breath. Then, from the distance, Kevin could hear what sounded like a low rumble of thunder, a rare thing in January.

Where had that scream come from? Was his next-door neighbor in danger? Should he grab his flashlight and see what was the matter?

Kevin thought about her. Her long beautiful legs. Her perfect shoulder length flowing auburn hair. The slightly bemused expression that always seemed to line her face. The scent of peaches that always wafted after her when she left the elevator they often rode together up and down, down and up.

  She had been frostily polite to Kevin since she moved in that September. She brusquely refused him when he tried to carry her groceries for her. She curtly nodded “good-morning” when they passed each other on the way to the showers in the middle of the hallway.  She barely returned his small talk on the elevator, and seemed reticent to even tell him that she was a Masters student in the

University’s School of Social Work.

Like a fool, he had asked her out to “drinks some time,” one Friday evening when they both came in late. He’d been out with friends, and was feeling the confidence of several drinks.  Standing outside her room, with that same bemused expression, she told him that he was “sweet” and gently closed the door on his face.

There was something that was clawing at his memory now, that he could not quite put a finger to. He shook his head and recalled that he had heard a desperate scream. The walls of the graduate dorm/apartments were quite flimsy, and he stood with his ear pressed up against the wall, the dark of the room consuming him, he could hear nothing.

Suddenly, his mind raced wildly. He had just read a story about a killer who preyed on students at one of the City Universities. The man had gone after young women who he’d been watching for weeks, as he had posed as a panhandler just outside of the college campus.

He thought about all the people had observed on the street. What if that old couple wasn’t old at all.  Couldn’t they be some sort of criminal duo that used elaborate makeup to spy on the University’s graduate housing?

And what about that curvy Latina in the power suit? It occurred to him that attractive woman usually befriended women who were as attractive as themselves. Perhaps this Latina was actually a killer looking to befriend University females as beautiful as she, and then subsequently kill them. This was quite plausible!

 Kevin considered the man with the dogs in the stroller. He realized with a start that any number of weapons could be postured underneath the barking animals! And those children running by made so much sense now! Perhaps they were lookouts, sending messages about who came in and out of the building  to the stroller man.

Kevin had to take seat on the bed, as his anxiety notched another level.  He realized that it was possible that everyone he had been watching on the street for all this time could be part of an intricate scheme to murder woman at the Graduate school. They were out to get his neighbor, he just knew it.

Kevin grabbed his flashlight from its place beneath its bed, and a large wooden stick that he always kept with him. It had fallen from a Torrey Pine tree that had been struck by an errant tee shot of Tiger Woods’ during the 2008 U.S. Open, and was extremely lucky. Well, that’s what the ebay ad had claimed.  He was a sucker for all things Tiger Woods.

Now, he placed his hands in the interlocking grip that he had learned fromTiger Woods’ 2000 book How I Play Golf, and ventured out into the emergency lit hallway. He lightly tapped his neighbor’s door with the stick, and waited with bated breath. No one answered.

He knocked again, and called softly.  Still, dead silence. He checked the door, and was surprised to find that it was open. Should he enter? Well…she could be dying in there. He had to save her.

He stepped into the darkness, and the smell of peaches nearly overpowered him. The space eerily echoed, as though it were a much larger chamber, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the over powering darkness. 

“Kate?” he called tremulously, his voice bouncing of the walls. He had taken several steps into the room when he began to remember.

Thunder sounded a little bit closer, and the wind howled restlessly. Kevin’s flashlight rested on her face.  It had begun to erode, but her bemused, twisted smile was still visible. He went to her and stroked what was left of her auburn hair.

Yes….yes…. he remembered. Friday night. The elevator rejection. The rage. The forced entry. The blows to the head.  The single scream. The peach cream to combat the rotting smell.  The silence.

Jubilation filled him. With a delighted stride, he went back to the door and shut it. Then, he removed his clothes, and climbed into bed with the girl of his dreams. He had never been so happy.