It took me a couple of days to realize that not only had new bushes appeared on my lawn, but that ever-so-slowly they were creeping toward the front door of my house—like organic ninjas.
The house itself is nothing more than a shotgun shack set back from the road by a fifty foot swatch of tangled violets. When Evelyn and I had originally bought it there had been sparse grass, a few dandelions, and not much else. A fancy front lawn isn’t high on my priority list, but what do I know? In some towns murders are committed for less. Third spring we were here violets sprouted and choked out the remaining grass. Never have to mow them and they’re hardy as hell.
It might have been a week after the bushes appeared that my neighbor, Lyle, caught me by the side of the house. He had a slightly puzzled look upon his face. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the bushes or the fact that this is the first time he’s talked to me since Evelyn died. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Lyle’s lawn is manicured grass, flowerbeds and garden gnomes. Nice if you’re into that type of thing.
“Some woman came by and planted some bushes,” he says, nodding toward the front of the house.
We both look. There they are: three foot by three foot square, two of them. They’re fairly dense, but not enough so as you can’t see through them. Dark green with waxy looking leaves and little red berries. Not really my style, though I’m not exactly sure what my style of bush might be.
“Ever’ day, some evenings, she’s out there in the bushes, watching your house. Two, maybe three hours I figure. Thin girl, kind’a pale with thick glasses.”
Pony tail, straight up on top like a candle? I ask.
“Yep,” he says. “Folks are startin’ to talk.”
I thank him and he walks away. This explains a lot. Once the bushes are close to the house she’ll probably make her move. It doesn’t strike me as odd that he hasn’t mentioned Evelyn until after he’s gone. Evelyn was myopic, too.
I use the side door in case Suzy’s out there, watching from the bushes.
+ + +
Three or four nights out of the week I go to Darby’s on Main Street to have dinner. It’s nice, a little loud for my taste, but nobody knows me. After Evelyn died I tried going back to one of our regular places but that grew old fairly quick. I guess I got tired of the social dynamics. Older men, mid-fifties like myself, trying to hook up with women and getting shot down. The younger crowd at Darby’s isn’t worn out and bitter, yet. And beside, with the Internet you don’t even have to leave your house anymore if you want to meet someone. I tried computer dating a few times, but it just isn’t the same.
After dinner, I sat and watched the couples meet, greet and go their separate ways—most of them at least. I paid my bill and walked home. Just to be safe I snuck in through the rear and avoided the front lawn. That night someone came by and nailed all three of my doors shut. They started with the front, went to the side, and by the time I was up and ready to investigate, had made their way to the back of the house. I waited till dawn before I climbed out of the side window with a hammer and got all three doors opened. Found the pile of leaves they had placed against the cellar doors and set on fire. It didn’t catch, but it scorched the heck out of the aluminum siding. Lucky for me it’s early in the season and still damp.
You can’t be too careful.
As I was closing the front door I saw movement from the bushes. Two inches of ponytail protruded from the top and then vanished. You have to give Suzy credit, she is one industrious woman.
+ + +
My first couple of computer dates had been fairly uneventful. Nice women, close to my age, looking for something I could never provide. I should write a column for the paper. Little nuggets of self-help wisdom:
Bad news, ladies, you’re not going to find Mr. Perfect if you’re forty-five years old and not a slice of heaven. You’re going to find me: slightly soft, hairy in all the wrong places and stiff in social settings. Now don’t get me wrong, I can be romantic as hell and devoted to every mundane aspect of your ordinary life, but do you really think you’re going to find a younger, richer, more successful version of me who is ready to donate the remaining years of his life to making your every waking moment a cherished memory?
Of course you do.
+ + +
I’d never had a girl at the house before.
Evelyn and me had stopped having sex, years earlier. It wasn’t a calamitous event, just a gradual disinterest on her part that came on like the flu. Fair enough, but a man does have his needs.
The girl hadn’t looked anything like her pictures, but that wasn’t what irritated me. It was the drama, the over the top theatrics. I’m not really a big fan of drama. You want more money, all you have to do is ask. Evelyn wasn’t a big fan of it either. After she walked in on us I expected some tears, maybe a fight. Instead, she simply went to bed while I spent the night on the couch.
I found her in the morning.
+ + +
Suzy met me at the restaurant at seven. Right on time. For the first hour I actually thought I had a chance. She was book smart, shy, claimed to have a green thumb, and had studied martial arts for twenty years. Consequently she was in good shape, but fairly plain. I didn’t mind. I know exactly what I am. She talked about things I understood and paused so I could say what I was thinking. She laughed at my jokes and didn’t ask how long I had been a widower. She even brought along her collection of Oriental throwing daggers for me to see. They reminded me of my father in an odd sort of way. He had come home from some war and was constantly fretting about Charlie, hiding in the rice paddies. He was jittery and aged before his years and constantly looking under things for other things. It was all going well until I mentioned something about the wisdom of my fifty-three years.
“Your profile said you were forty-nine,” she said.
So much for nuggets of wisdom.
That has to be a mistake I said. A typo of some kind. I smiled broadly to let her know I was sincere.
I looked at the other couples around us. They chatted amongst themselves and gave off those invisible signals that men and women use to communicate their desires and predilections with. I tried to gauge the distance to the door. I estimated what the dinner would cost, the tip. What Suzy’s cab fare would be.
I’m pretty sure I said that I was fifty-three.
She continued to look at me through her thick glasses. The moment stretched out and I suddenly felt as if my suit coat was two sizes too small. I lowered my gaze to her bosom because it appeared that she had stopped breathing. I know I had.
“You lied to me…” her voice drifted off.
I placed all my money beside my half eaten dinner. There was enough for the meal, a tip, her cab ride home and, depending, a new outfit for her. I tried not to look at the leather bound case beside her salad.
“I can’t believe you lied to me…” she said through her teeth.
By the time I was two blocks from the restaurant I was winded and a sharp pain had developed in my side. Two blocks further along and I could no longer hear Suzy’s tiny footsteps behind me so I started to jog. The leather case must have slowed her down. I stopped looking over my shoulder when I was a mile from my house.
That was a mistake.
+ + +
Had to sneak out and get batteries for the remote this morning. It was nice to walk around the strip and window shop. I haven’t done this since Evelyn and I got married. You never know when you might need something. Went into a store that sells washers and dryers, just to look. I was there for exactly nine seconds when a young man with an ingratiating smile walked up and asked if he could help me find anything. I said why yes, have you seen my wife? I owe her an apology. He hadn’t so I left.
+ + +
I’m thinking of getting a dog, mainly for company. I can’t see myself dating anyone in the near future, but I do get lonely from time to time. There’s a firm in town that buys dogs from the military and trains them to be household pets. I’m not really sure what a military dog that hasn’t been debriefed or retrained or whatever it is that this firm does would be like around a normal person, but I probably don’t want to find out. I’ve heard they have dogs that can sniff out land mines. Now that might be useful.
The bushes are less than ten feet from my bedroom windows. I should probably get started on this.
