Bystander

Another new neighbor arrives. The previous neighbors only stayed six months and left without a word. I should invite them to the barbecue tomorrow. I walk over to the two-story maroon house. With the sun at its highest point in the sky, the flowers under the second-story window were fully lit. 

Bruno nudges my hand and I focus on walking again. I stroke her white head as she trots next to me. As I near, I can’t see anyone besides the hired We-Haul workers. Instead of stopping and offering to help, I act as if I’m going on a walk. 

Bruno looks up at me as if she is saying, ‘I thought we were going to help, like usual?’ I tap on my leg, and she lets out a huff before continuing on. We walk a few more minutes and turn around. 

The We-Haul truck is creeping out of the driveway. I look up at the house windows. Each one has a black curtain blocking my view to the inside. Is anyone there? 

***

After baking the usual half dozen cookies, I look down. Bruno is in a ball on the tiny kitchen mat. I put the cookies in a bag and tap my leg. Bruno pops her head up and walks next to me.

We slowly make our way to the house, once again, step by step. I stop in front of the short driveway to the house. Almost as soon as I stop, I continue down the driveway. 

We reach a short flight of steps. "Bruno!" She moves her attention to me. "Sit." Her butt plops to the ground. "Stay." I take a few steps closer to the door and look back to make sure she is staying. Her tail is wagging back and forth, hitting her hind leg with each wag. I pace a few slow steps until I reach the door. I knock once, no answer. Though no one comes, I look around as I hear some movement inside. The car is in the driveway. I knock again. Still, no one answers. The sounds of movement cease.

I search for the paper I stuffed in my pocket when I made the cookies. I pull it out of my pocket and re-read it. 'Welcome new neighbors! Cookies have been a neighborhood tradition. We are having a BBQ tomorrow. We'll have food, and you can meet neighbors.’ It has my name and my address. Maybe we'll finally meet this mysterious neighbor. 

***

Bruno follows me as I bring food outside for the barbecue. I make the main course and the rest of the neighborhood brings desserts and snacks. I am setting up the last of the chairs as the first neighbor arrives. Soon, more and more people start to show up. Everyone except for the new neighbors.

***

We all scoot our chairs in a circle. I'm the first to speak.

"Has anyone met the new neighbor yet?"

One at a time, everyone says no. The next person starts to speak.

"It's almost like they’re a bystander of the neighborhood. They watch what goes on and prefer not to be seen. I don’t think they have left the house since they got here. The cars are in the same spot.”

Everyone nods. Nearly everyone pulls out our cell phones to check the time. It’s a little after midnight. 

A loud bang rumbles through the neighborhood. All but one neighbor, Anya, leaves. We sit in awkward silence for a few seconds, before I start to speak.

“Should we…” I trail off, “call the cops?”   

“I bet it was fireworks.”

“Don’t people usually set off more than one?” I ask. We both look at each other and head inside. 

***

The morning light seeps through my curtains. I slowly peel my eyes open and stretch. The stretch is interrupted by the thought of the bang last night. I open my door and head downstairs. Bruno and I walk over to the guest room where Anya is staying from last night. I knock on the door. 

Hearing  an awake, “Yeah,” come from the room, I ask, “how long have you been up?”

“A couple of-” another bang rumbles out of the new neighbor's house and through the neighborhood. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to call the cops?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be that neighbor.” I see the door knob turn and take a few steps back from where I am listening through the door. She steps out of the room and looks at me. 

To break the silence, I say, “Sit down on the couch, and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

She nods and plops on the couch. I walk over to the kitchen and begin making eggs and bacon. I bring Anya a plate of food with a fork and sit down next to her. 

“I think I’m going to walk past the bystander to see if everything’s okay. Do you want to come with?” I ask.

She looks up at me and swallows, “Yeah, I guess. We have to past it to get to my house.” 

“Okay. Why don’t we finish eating and head that way?” I ask.

“Okay, that works.” I finish eating and walk over to my cell phone on the table. I text the neighborhood group chat.

'Hi, guys. Just wanted to let you know Anya and I are going to walk past the Bystanders house.' Just in case something happens to us. A few people reply and I walk back into the living room. Anya puts her dish in the sink and slips her shoes on.

We walk in silence. The only thing you hear is Bruno's nails against the concrete. Step by step, we creep closer to the Bystanders house. The trees thin up, and the house starts to appear. First, the opening of the driveway. Then, the moving truck? Anya looks up at me at the same time I look up at her. We slow our pace and Bruno looks up for direction. I tap my leg, and she comes a little closer. I watch the movers take each item out. They are cleaner than when they were put in the house. It reeks of cat litter.  The curtains are also wide open. A first since they moved in. 

We keep walking, and the house slowly goes out of sight. The trees start to thicken, and I relax a little. The moving truck passes us. Bruno sticks her nose in the air and draws in a deep breath. She exhales and starts barking. I shush her and continue on. A few minutes later, the Bystanders' car passes. 

I look over at Anya and say, “Well, that's another neighbor gone.”

“Guess it is. I wonder what's wrong with the house?”

“I don’t want to find out.” 

And I don’t think anyone wants to find out, either.