Greensbourg

Greensbourg had never been fond of newcomers. It was a small place, with less than a thousand people. It was a town with eyes in every window, every alleyway, every street corner. Ears that picked up on every syllable, every coin that clinked in the pocket of foreigners. Mouths that loved to move and spill thought, in every building that contained a heartbeat. Eventually people would blend into the background. The newcomer finally became a local after years of putting up with the burning spotlight. Desperate to fit in, they too became a mouth, a pair of eyes, a set of ears. So, when a new number plate, was spotted parked at the doctors, or in front of the post office, the walls went up, the pursuit was put on. You couldn’t stay hidden in Greensbourg. So, for the paint scratched, black hatchback that has been spotted thrice now, once on main, once at the registry, and once parked along cooling street, the rumours started rolling. And for the woman who didn’t know telling the admin at registry that she was living alone with her five-year-old daughter, would effectively be telling Dan from the butcher, whose son was in the council and had a very ‘amicable’ group of socials, whom all thought it well enough to spread it amongst their own, and bring it up next council meeting, not on purpose to expose her of course, it was only a slip of the tongue, only out of curiosity; had anyone else seen her yet? They had. ‘Her daughter looks to skinny; she mustn’t feed her well enough’.’ Well, doesn’t she have a husband?” ‘I haven’t seen one’, ‘I hear she’s a widow.’ They heard a mighty amount of things in the first week. And by the second week it was set; she was likely poor, a failing mother, and a widow. By the third week, they had decided that she was unkind, poorly mannered, and strange; not that anyone had spoken to her yet. But she did glare at Nancy from the other side of the street. And she completely ignored Rob when he tried to wave at her in the supermarket. And so, their distrust and dislike of the woman was therefore justified. She was unwelcome, it was not spoken, but it was made true by their collective consensus, and they spent the next four weeks treating her as such. They were not subtle with it either. So, it did not take long for the foreign woman to pick up on the fact that no one was willing to talk to her or interact at all. She had gone a long month, without making any friends, or even acquaintances. she had said hello to a total of three people in that span of time, and she was blatantly aware of their indifference, and how two out of three had even ignored her wholly. If she didn’t know better, she would think she had done something to wrong these town folks. But she had only just arrived. Surely, she hadn’t done anything wrong… right?

So, for the next few months the woman and her child were watched, but not approached. Talked about, but not talked to. Overheard, but not listened to. They were not permitted the comfort of fading into the background and becoming a local, a rite that only a select few, after many years, were allowed to undergo.

Mrs Gomez, who was unfortunate enough to live next to the woman, complained about her garden, oh how messy a thing it was. No care for it, the old woman claimed. The grass was overgrown. The roses lining the short driveway, were begging to wilt and had not been properly pruned in what seemed like years. She didn’t have the same problem with her last neighbour. No, that family was a delight. So, unlike this new woman and her child, who by the way, still looked too skinny.

Mr Patterson, who lived across the road from the doctors office reported to the council next meet, that the woman and her child went to the doctors often. Too often. ‘Addiction?’ It would explain it, some said. And her poor child, the neglect. The woman herself, was looking unwell and unkept. She obviously didn’t take good care of herself. Dangerous people they were. Best not to get involved.

But for all their mutterings of leaving the strange people be, they simply couldn’t do it. And it was as Mrs Gomez was pruning her own roses, and glaring at her neighbor's atrocious ones, that she heard an ungodly noise emerge from that house. A sound caught somewhere between a wail and a scream of surprise. It was not good. And despite her not caring for them, she felt herself grow somewhat cold with concern. Next moment, the strange woman came pounding out of the door, racing towards her car, all the while , holding her limp daughter in her hands. Mrs Gomez knew then, not only were the roses unwell, but something was not right with her daughter. Something was very, very wrong. And perhaps it was the mother in her, or simply the sight of a struggling woman fumbling frantically with her car keys, face a look of total terror, that had Gomez approaching. She stuttered on the first words that she spoke to the woman, ‘Do- do you need help?’. The woman looked up then, eyes wild and worried. ‘Please, take me to the hospital, I have the wrong keys, and she needs to go right now. Please’, she pleaded.

Five minutes later the woman was in the backseat of the car, holding her daughter who seemed to be awake, but weak, as Mrs Gomez drove faster then she ever had in her life. Gomez could not escape the tinge of awkwardness that plagued the silence, but the woman was too absorbed in her daughter to notice or worry. However, just as she was pulling up to the hospital, the woman snapped out of her reverie and spoke suddenly into the silence. ‘She’s sick. Has a rare disease. We moved here because it was cheaper living.’ She spoke as though addressing what had not been mentioned; her reputation and their judgments. So, they were not so subtle after all.

Gomez stopped the car in front of the emergency department drop off.

‘Thank you for the ride’, and then she was running into the hospital and disappearing behind the double doors. Gomez sat there for a moment, something like shame burning inside her. They had called her a bad mother. Strange. Rude. Among many other things. And now, after having spoken to her once, she had proven them all wrong.

A week after that incident, when the news had made its rounds, Greensbourg shifted. The woman was smiled at with small guilt in the market. Waved at in the street every now and again. The newcomer, who was not so new now, was mercifully permitted the peace of fading into the background of Greensbourg.