The Gibsons Next Door

When the Gibsons moved to their new house, I vividly recall roller skating through the streets as a small youngster. It's a surprise that the sun shined that day or else I'd be staring at the stark gray walls of my bedroom. My mother despised it when I hung up posters of my favorite band. The Gibsons are similar to The Addams Family and the Cullens from Twilight. To put it another way, they don't blend in with the suburban feel. Violet, their teenage daughter, and Ursula, their Rottweiler dog, are their sole children.

“Have you heard the news, Agatha?” My mum hastily switched on the hardly used television. But in these times, it's like a cherished property. “Police say a family was involved in a terrible vehicle accident, and the investigation is still ongoing.” My mother collapsed onto the sofa, her hands trembling. 

“It's the Gibsons!” she informed me in great detail, and she appeared to be quite guilty of what she was saying. I went to see the Gibsons, but their sleek car was already parked. “Hello! I'm Agatha, and I'm just checking in to see whether you're all right.” The air was deafeningly quiet. All I could hear was the gentle breath of the wind and the falling of dry leaves. Ugh! I have forgotten to put on something warmer. I knock on the door again, this time a little louder. I glanced through the glazed drapes that covered the windows. No sign of anyone, even their dog, Ursula.

As a concerned and nosy neighbour, I checked their doormat for probable hiding spots for their keys. And lo and behold, I've got it! I instantly ducked behind the sofa as soon as my phone began to ring, which I didn't answer since I heard the keys being chucked. Someone is approaching. “Well done, Ursula!” Of course, the dog spotted me, and now I look like I'm a creepy lurking neighbour to them. 

“What do we have here?” the father said as he poured champagne into a glass. The mother put on some classical music. She's got on this beautiful bodice that accentuates her curves. “Am I running late?” Violet's voice could be heard coming down the stairs. Is it true that I'm going to be eaten? Because of the Gibsons' peculiar aura, the rest of the neighbourhood avoids them. 

Their entire home is minimal and modern, with a hint of wood. It's also rather spacious, at least until my back hits the island. “Bloody hell, who told you that?” the father laughed a bit. It doesn't help that the mother accidentally cut her finger while chopping an apple. “All I can say is your watching too many movies, Agatha,” Violet patted my head. 

“All right, all right, all right, Good night to everyone, and I apologize for causing such a commotion at this late hour. “Enjoy your dinner,” I replied shiveringly. I should make a checklist for my coat once more. “Oh, we surely will,” Violet replied as she closed the door behind me with a sly smile. I wonder why my mother and the other neighbours know about the Gibsons. All I know is that they’re most likely never home. We don’t see them at community barbeque parties and fund-raising events. They’re the Gibsons. 

As I was ready to return to our house, I noticed an unfamiliar lady standing on our doorstep with her arms crossed. This is all new to me; she even brought a police officer with her. “What seems to be the problem, officer?” I politely asked. “Ma’am, may I ask you what year it is today?” the young policeman inquired.

“1983. On July 4th,” I responded confidently. I'm not sure why, but the mood appears to be different than it was a while ago. I examined my hands, which are veiny and calloused. I fell on the well-kept garden in front of our house. The strange woman assisted me in standing up and showed me what appeared to be her phone. 

It is July 4th, 2075. 

“I'm afraid, ma'am, we'll have to accompany you to your preferred retirement home,” the officer said, clearing his throat. I took a peek around the block where I grew up, as well as at the Gibsons. “What became of the Gibsons?” I approached the unknown woman, who turned out to be my great-granddaughter. She appears to be preparing to sell the property because the price will rise due to the house's architecture's life span. I wasn't startled at all, but I was taken aback when I noticed Violet, a teenager, peering through her bedroom window and waving at me.

*** 

At the back of the police car, I took a final look again at my last memory on our street. What happened to the rest of my life? I have a great-granddaughter that I didn’t have a sense of connection. She just left me after watching me being taken at the backseat of the police car. I don’t even know who am I anymore. What happened to my mum, who was so afraid of the tragic accident? 

And it hit me. 

“Thanks!” I walked into the lobby of San Raphael's retirement home and read through the amenities brochure. As a matter of fact, they still have a computer room. I'll go there to learn more about what's going on with me and how everything happened. I was about to ask the reception for the details of my room when I encountered a familiar woman. 

My great-granddaughter. 

“If you're following me, I swear to God. “There are various retirement homes, but you picked this one,” she remarked frustratedly as she checked her computer. Okay, who is my daughter or son that failed miserably in parenting this adolescent? Imogen was her name as well. 

“Well, dear, I'd just want to go inside my room and inquire about the computer room timetable. Thank you very much!” I spoke out right away. She took one of the keys from me and led me to the elevator. “Are you certain you don't want to use the wheelchair?” I agreed with a nod. I don't feel like an elderly lady.