THAT ONE NEIGHBOR

Kathryn Chambers had bought her house six months ago.  She loved the quiet neighborhood, as it wasn’t as busy or noisy as the apartment complex she used to live in.  Not only that, there was a certain pride that came with owning your own home. It felt good to finally have a place you could call your own. 

But the house across the street caught Kathryn’s attention.  It was a well-manicured home.  Nobody lived in the house, but someone came by weekly to take care of the yard. For some reason, Kathryn was drawn to this house. 

“The owner moved out a few years ago.”  Her next door neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, told her one day.  Kathryn was outside sitting on the porch, staring across the street, trying to figure out what was drawing her to that house.  She had not heard the older woman approach the porch.  “I don’t know why he didn’t just sell the house, when he moved to Florida.  Mr. James was a strange sort.  I always had a bad feeling about him.”

“Do you suppose the house is haunted?”  Kathryn asked the impulsive question without thinking.  It was the only reason she could come up with why something was drawing her to the house, and why this Mr. James moved without selling.  Never mind the more reasonable reason possibly being he had a short-term job in Florida and was planning on moving back when that job was finished.

Mrs. Johnson laughed at Kathryn’s odd question. “Goodness no.”  She said. “There is no such thing as ghosts.  But, like I said, Mr. James is an odd fellow.  Something about him is off.”

“What do you mean?”  Kathryn asked.  If she were to be neighbors with someone who is odd, she wanted to know what was off with them.

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Johnson said quietly.  She was looking at the empty house trying to think of an answer to a question, Kathryn was certain nobody else had ever asked.  “But there is something about him.  Just wait.  Mr. James will come back and you will see what I mean.” Kathryn watched Mrs. Johnson walk back next door.  The older woman was the full embodiment of the typical nosy neighbor.   

One day, Kathryn came home from work and noticed a car parked in the driveway of that mysterious empty house.  It was a newer blue sporty looking car. Kathryn wondered briefly if that car belonged to the mysterious Mr. James.  Not wanting to be the nosy neighbor, she quickly walked inside her own house, where she could be nosy from the privacy of her kitchen, while she fixed dinner.   

“Damn it all.”  Kathryn said halfway through peeling potatoes.  “I can’t do this.  It isn’t right.  What my neighbors do is their business.”  Kathryn made a conscious effort to not look out the window.  She felt guilty for allowing Mrs. Johnson’s suspicions about a neighbor she has yet to meet get to her.

But early Saturday morning, Kathryn woke up to find a U-Haul backed into the driveway of the house across the street.  Curiosity took over, as she stood at the kitchen window watching several guys going back and forth carrying boxes or furniture inside the house.  She didn't see a woman or kids, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. Mrs. Johnson would have mentioned a wife and kids, if they existed, not that it mattered to Kathryn.  She wasn’t looking to start a relationship with this mysterious neighbor. Maybe this Mr. James was gay.  Whatever Mr. James’ relationship status was, Kathryn hoped he was good looking. 

It would be a few days, before Kathryn saw Mr. James.  He was washing that blue sports car.  Mr. James was shirtless.  He was most definitely eye candy.  Of course, Mrs. Johnson wouldn’t notice that.  Kathryn was so busy admiring the new neighbor, she forgot to be discreet.  Mr. James looked across the street briefly, before waving.  Kathryn felt her face heat up with embarrassment.   She quickly waved back, before backing away from the window. 

Kathryn felt like a fool.  The only way she could redeem herself from this embarrassing position was to introduce herself.  Taking a deep breath, she walked out the front door to walk across the street.  "I thought I should come over and introduce myself." Kathryn said, extending her hand. "My name is Kathryn Chambers.  I moved in across the street six months ago.  I am not a stalker.  Or a nosy neighbor." 

"Max James."  Max said taking a hold of Amber's hand in a friendly handshake. "I am glad you introduced yourself.  It is so hard fitting into a new neighborhood."

"Not really."  Kathryn said.  She thought about what Mrs. Johnson had said.  There was definitely something off with Mr. James.  What it was, she couldn’t put a finger on it.  "But I like the quiet.  And the grocery is close."  Awkward silence followed. "Well, I'll see you around." Kathryn said, before walking back across the street.  Sitting down on the couch Kathryn stared at the tv. Something definitely wasn’t right about Max. 

There was a soft knock on the door.  “Mrs. Johnson.” Kathryn whispered standing up to answer the door.  She had a few questions for her nosy neighbor. 

“What do you think of Mr. James?” She asked stepping inside.  “Wow.  You really fixed up this place nice.  I like it.” Mrs Johnson said, looking around the living room.

“Thank you.” Kathryn said, getting up to pour an extra cup of coffee for Mrs. Johnson. “I’m glad you like what I’ve done so far. I still have a lot of work to do around here.  But it is all a labor of love.”

“So, what do you think about Mr. James.”  Mrs. Johnson didn’t waste any time getting to the purpose of her visit. “He is a handsome young man, isn’t he. But don’t get smitten by his looks.  I believe he is the devil in disguise.”

“I get a really weird vibe off him.” Kathryn said, answering Mrs. Johnson’s question honestly. “I don’t think I will be talking to him much.”

“I knew you were a smart young lady.”  Mrs. Johnson said smiling.  She took a drink of the coffee.  “It has been a very long since I last had coffee that tasted so good.”  Mrs. Johnson drank the rest of her coffee, before standing up.  “Thank you for the coffee, Kathryn.” Kathryn stood up, taking the empty cup from Mrs. Johnson.  Walking Mrs. Johnson to the door, Kathryn stood at the door a long while, looking across the street trying to figure out what was so odd about Mr. James.

A week later, Max James was arrested for murder. By the end of the week, police cars and bulldozers would converge on the house across the street digging up the backyard.  On the news, police would say that Max James was the state's worse mass murderer, and there were suspicions that he was involved in a series of murders in Florida. 

It would be months before Kathryn felt safe in her own home.  She refused to look at that house across the street, even after it had sold to another family.