Neighbors from hell

We’ve all had them. Neighbors we love, neighbors we like, and then there are neighbors that really get under our skin.

I’ve had such neighbors. It wasn’t just one neighbor. It was a whole family of neighbors.

A mother, farther, and three boys who seemed to think our yard was their yard to play baseball in. I didn’t mind the first couple of times, but the fourth or fifth time is when it got annoying.

I kept warning my mother that a window was going to get broken if we let them keep that they’d break aa window, but she assured me it wouldn’t happen.

They were annoying during the day, but they were especially annoying at night. The husband and wife decided to fight, and it wasn’t a fight that seemed to be kept in the home. I’m fairly sure people in New York could hear them.  They argued about the lessons the boys had to learn, what was best from them, and why we had gotten mad at the eldest son kicking a ball against our house.

One time, I heard them arguing about the rose bush in our backyard. Mom and I had planted it for my great-great grandmother, and it had long since died, but we never pruned it or got rid of it.

Well, she was tired of looking at it. I could hear her husband trying to tell her that it wasn’t their property and that he couldn’t just do it. She responded we would thank him later.

We didn’t.

That was the crap cake, the icing and the filling all in one.

         One day, while mom was at work, I was getting ready to fix my lunch when I heard a crash come from the bedroom. It wasn’t the usual crash like when my cat had knocked off something. It sounded like the crash that came from glass breaking.

Going to the bedroom, I felt the summer breeze and saw the blinds blowing slightly. Peeking through the blinds, I saw two of the boys running back to their house and the eldest boy standing there in shock.

Feeling my face in heat up in anger, I marched out there, fully ready to tell him that this was the last straw and that how terrible a parent his mother was.

Until I saw he was on the verge of tears…and fighting them trying to be a man

Whoever made the rule that boys weren’t allowed to cry, I swear I wanted to meet only to slap them.

I tried to keep my angry look but his look made me loose it

“Hey. Hey what’s wrong?” I asked though I didn’t expect him to answer…at least not right away.

He looked towards his house, scared, like he knew someone was going to come out of there at any moment, then looked down at he ground. I knew that look, heck I had done that look.

When you’re in trouble when you’re a kid and you know it, you pray the earth will open and swallow you .

I sigh.

“Wait here.”

I ran back into my garage and grab something I knew worked on my younger cousins and probably most kids in America.

A ice cold, fruit flavors ice pops.

I didn’t know if the kid’s mom even let him have sugar, or if she was one of those ‘progressive parents’ that only gave him the sugar free crap, but I didn’t care.

The only thing I care about was making this kid feel better.

I rush back out, so the ice pop didn’t melt all over my hand.

“Here” I say holding it out. He sniffled staring at it for a small minute before taking it and began making slurping noises, which I normally would’ve been grossed out by.

I lead him over to the patio where mom and I had some lawn chairs set up.

“Now.” I said sitting slowly “Can you tell me why you were scared you broke my window?”

He shook his head

“Come on. It’ll be our little secret.”

I used a just between us voice, which only worked forty percent of the time.

He gulped

“Mom says if I broke another window that she’d pull me out of baseball and take away my equipment forever.”

Though he didn’t see, I rolled my eyes to the sky, wondering if the mom often gave her boys empty threats like this.

“Does your dad do anything about it?”

He shook his head.

“Dad is too busy with work.”

I bit my lip fighting a curse. What parents gave empty threats and were too busy to help their own kids?

I looked up towards the deck next door to see if the mother had come out to glare at me. Luckily, she hadn’t…yet.”

I thought of something.

“Have your mom and dad been fighting a lot lately?”

He nodded “They think I can’t hear it.”

How could they think that? I could hear it. A person in a coma could hear them. I think people in New York could hear them!

I shook my head looking at the house again. I ran a hand through my hair as the summer breeze ruffled it.

I wish I could say I helped the kid…but it’s not one of those stories.

After he said they fought, I heard a sharp tone call out to him. Looking up, I saw the blonde hair framed face of the woman I dreaded. The woman next door…and she was stomping like she was angry. She grabbed her son’s arm and held it tight. So tight I was praying the kid wasn’t bleeding underneath his sleeve.

“What did I tell you-“

“Gonna stop you right there lady!” I snapped shooting up, glaring at her.

She glared right back at me.

“Excuse me?” she sneered the lip stick staining her teeth.

“You shouldn’t talk to your son like that!”

“Are you a parent?”

“No!”

“Then how do you know you don’t talk to kids like this?”

“Because I’ve known parents in my life and I know kids are not for you to bully or treat how you wish!”

She scoffed and began dragging her son back to the house

“Oh, and I’d keep your fighting to a low level tonight.” I told her “Because if you don’t I might just call the police for a noise disturbance.”