Good Fences

Good Fences

Robert Warren 06/25/2021

The sunrise excited the birds every morning as though it were their first. Grace kept to a schedule too, but it was never as exciting. She checked off her days on her calendar to remind herself to put out the trash.

Alone in that house, she'd kept to herself ever since Amos passed away. However, her neighborhood had changed without her. More houses were built with more schools and shops, more of everything for all the new people. However, Grace had no interest in nosey neighbors, gossipy cliques, or noisy, troublesome children. Nothing but trouble, she could tell you!  

That one morning began like most others. While Grace slowly swayed on her wooden bench, it creaked and complained of its aches and pains. Grace patiently waited with her breakfast and tea for the sun to begin the day.

The sun's golden halo brightened the sky. Silhouettes soon would emerge, like the contorted shapes of trees on the hill and her Garden Girl standing in her fountain. Meanwhile, the birds continued to sing, to flirt, and to gossip all at once.

She continued to sip her tea while her garden took its time to wake. A breeze stirred, and tree leaves quaked. A fragrance passed through the air. Then, a squirrel jumped off the roof and scurried away.

One such squirrel had earned a nickname, a little fellow with an out-sized tail. Grace had named him Houdini. No matter how she tried to frustrate the critter, he always got away with her birdseed. No cages or netting, or fancy contraptions, nothing deterred her little foe. At last, she relented and settled for a truce. Instead of a conflict, she called it their game.

Sunrise and breakfast eventually passed. However, something seemed off before noon. Maybe Grace heard it, or felt it, or just thought of it, but she said to herself, "I'll bet it's trouble." She stood on her porch with her hands on her hips, a frown on her face, and waited.

Soon, they came running like horses or worse, shouting and laughing along the back path. Soon, they jumped over Grace's old broken fence, ran across her wet grass, and left behind muddy holes in their tracks. 

Summer Vacation again, she sighed! She'd forgotten the annual affliction.

As she did so often, Grace called her sister. "Can't they just use the old path like we did, Ruth? And the noise—they're so loud! Were we ever so loud?"

Ruth would just agree and silently scowl. Grace complained the same every year.

The worst of them was Rusty Brown, she said, the son of her new neighbor, Suzy. Rusty was a well-known neighborhood terror, the leader of a third-grade mob. He was always at the head of, the back of, or the center of mischief. Yet, the other children all seemed to adore him, no matter what trouble he caused. 

 Just the day after they ravaged her yard, Grace watched them climbing her trees. One of the children, probably Rusty, yelled like an ape from up in the branches and jumped! Hopefully, the trees would survive.

For weeks, she watched their wild antics. The children seemed immune to their risks, like squirrels. But, although she may have tried to stop watching, she didn't seem to be able to stop. She never did seem to relax.

One day, though, she finally resigned to their careless wild play. Despite their daring, death-defying feats, none of them seemed to get hurt. Perhaps they were all immortal, she would laugh.

One day, though, she lost her patience when she watched someone steal her flowers. She saw them first look around, then pick her favorite flowers. Then, as they ran away, Grace shouted at them, "You could have just asked me, you little thief!"

That evening, Grace cried to Ruth again, "What more can I possibly do? The monsters won't spare me or leave me alone! Can't I even grow some flowers?"

Ruth told her about when she had such a problem—she had to do something extreme. So, together, they conspired and planned an extreme solution. They would begin their work that weekend. 

Saturday morning, Grace was all ready and paced in her yard and as she waited. She adored her garden and watched it each morning, yet she'd spent little time there since Amos died. He had always tended the garden so tenderly—the yard was like his child. Indeed, perhaps the garden still was his and never truly would be hers.

As she strolled about, she noticed its neglect. Slime stained her Garden Girl's dry fountain. Dry crusty maple leaves still littered the grass, and her rangy old shrubs needed a hacking. Weeds in her vegetable bed needed thinning, and the ground beneath the fruit trees stank with soft fruit. Amos would be appalled.

Grace bent to tug another weed when Ruth called from across the yard. She carried a crate and said to Grace. "These are better than a fence!"

With spades and trowels from Amos's shed, they worked together by the back path. The work was simple, and they finished before lunch.

"Now," Ruth said, "You've heard that good fences make for good neighbors? Well, blackberries will give you the best neighbors yet! If anyone tries to get through this thing, it'll probably eat them alive!"

Grace glanced at the plants and rolled her eyes. The tiny plants stood two inches tall. 

Weeks passed, yet Grace's yard continued to be the neighborhood playground. Grace often checked on her new little plants. They seemed to grow faster each day.

One day, at last, her yard was quiet. The children kept to the footpath. She finally had her garden all to herself with no yelling or screaming or children to disturb her. The tall, thick, beautiful hedge had become just what Ruth had promised.

Only days later, her new neighbor Suzy rushed over, frantic at her door.

"I can't find Rusty! Have you seen him anywhere?!" She cried and sniffed as she wiped her face. "Would you help me find him, please? I'm still new here, you know?"

Grace stared and stammered at her. "Oh, really? Well, if you want me. Okay!" She had not ventured past her own yard in years.

Together they searched everywhere, but Rusty seemed nowhere—not at home, or with friends, at the park, or anywhere they looked. Suzy continued in a panic! "The Police! Call the Police," she cried and screamed!

Grace tried to calm her, but then she gasped, "MY house! Maybe my house!" She turned and ran away.

Behind her, Suzie yelled, "Where are you going? Wait, come back!"

Grace hadn't run since maybe ninth grade, but soon she was back at home. She ran to her tall, thick, blackberry hedge. It was moving and shaking with something inside!

"Rusty, are you in there," Grace yelled at the bush?!

"If anyone tries to get through this thing, it'll probably eat them alive," Ruth had warned. But, clearly, the bush had an appetite.

"Mommy," a voice screamed!

It must be him! "He might not survive," Grace cried to herself!

She tore away at the thick thorny vines—her hands bled as she did. "Rusty!" She called. "Can you hear me? Where are you?!"

Something shook and then rustled inside, but the fussing and crying grew louder! 

"I'm coming," Grace shouted, breathless and weak!

"Mommy, help me," he shouted!

 "I'm almost there," Grace called!

"Uhm—Grace?" A woman called from over of the hedge. "Are you alright?"

Grace stopped and froze silent. She held her breath.

"Is that you, Grace? Are you alright," Suzie asked again?

"Is Rusty over there," Grace meekly asked?

"Yes, he's okay," Suzie answered. "Scratched up a bit, but he's okay. He was just picking berries from your bush when his jacket got stuck on some thorns. But he's as squirrelly as ever now! But are you okay, Grace? You sound exhausted," Suzy sounded concerned.

Without a word, though, Grace retreated to her house. She stayed inside all day.

Grace was surprised before noon the next day when someone came and knocked at her door. Again, Suzy stood there but smiling this time, and a large crowd of strangers stood in Grace's yard. They all smiled at her too.

"Good morning, Grace," Suzie said. "I came here to thank you for helping yesterday when Rusty and I were upset."

Grace cleared her throat and nodded, "Okay," as she stared out at the crowd.

Suzie the gestured to the crowd. "And, we'd all like to apologize for ignoring you. We're here to reach out and lend you a hand. As neighbors, maybe we can even be friends." She smiled.

 Grace looked up and gazed at the crowd. They nodded, smiled, and waved. Then she watched as they spread out around her yard with garden tools, wheelbarrows, a lawnmower, and more. Soon, her whole garden looked busy with work.

Grace sighed and cried. She wiped at her face. "Excuse me, Suzy. I've got something to do." In her backyard, her neighbors were already at work repairing her blackberry hedge. "No," she shouted! "Don't repair that thing. Would you please chop it up and get rid of it all?"

Indeed, very soon, the blackberries were gone, and instead, they had built a white picket fence. Its wide double gate stood open to the path.

Her neighbors had almost transformed her yard. They had mowed and raked the lawn and weeded out her gardens. The orchard looked nicely pruned, and so did the big old shrubs. The pretty little Garden Girl stood lovely in her fountain. Grace's yard looked utterly reborn. Even Amos would be thrilled.

She thanked and visited her new neighbors while many left and returned with a picnic. They brought blankets, and coolers, and baskets of food. Someone even brought music. Soon, their work party became an after-work party. The long summer day became a long summer evening.

A rose-colored sunset slowly slipped away, Grace's new friends said thanks and goodnight.

Soon her home was quiet again. Her garden was peacefully still. Grace was once again alone by herself, but now it all seemed cold and empty.

She sat on her stoop beneath her porch light while crickets chattered and moths fluttered. A lonesome owl called. She listened and watched and pondered.

She awoke to the sun bright in her eyes. Still, she sat on her stoop—cold, stiff, and tired.

"Hey, Lady," came a shout!

Grace looked up with a start.

 Rusty came running down the street. He waved something at her, but it wasn't clear what. "I'm having a birthday," he shouted! "I'm eight! Then, he grinned like a cat as he gave her the card.

"Well, thank you, young man," Grace said with a smile. "I'll be happy to attend your Big Event!"

"Oh, good," he said with a beaming grin, then shouted, "Bye," and raced off again! Clearly, he had a lot to do.

With her hand to her brow, Grace squinted into the sun and watched as he ran away. Then, with a slow sigh and a subtle smile, she tied on her shoes and walked into town.