Out of the Ordinary

Chapter 1: Believe

I rode my bicycle on my way home from school just like any other day. The cool breeze splashing on my face gave me the sense of freshness. I didn't have my own car; I didn't need one, since I literally live two and a half blocks away from my school. I live in a small neighborhood in a small town. Everything is just a walking distance away -- or a bicycle ride if you're me. A large forest preserve is right next to my neighborhood just a few blocks away. The scent from the pine trees reminds me of how grateful I am to be so close to nature. I'm glad I don't live in a big city where I have to breathe in smog instead of oxygen.

My mom, Patty, works as a full-time nurse. She's one of those nurses who has a cheerful, excitable personality that would comfort any patient, even when she's not working. She's even taught me basic first aid, and how to handle someone who's having a seizure. It's great having a nurse for a mom who gets to teach you these things. My dad was an the army. He's not around anymore. A blast killed him 5 years ago when he was fighting in the Iraq war. My mom and I miss him from time to time. I mostly missed my dad entering the house always smiling, and hugging me with hellos. At least I still have my mom around, and I am thankful for that.

When I entered the house, I found my mom in the kitchen, arranging a big basket of fruit on the table that's been cut up into fancy shapes. The sight of it looked like a rainbow filling up the kitchen with its gorgeous colors.

"Hi, Kaley," Mom called.

"Hi, Mom," I answered back. "What're you doing?"

"I'm just cutting out these fruits for our new neighbor," she said.

"We have a new neighbor?"

"Yes," Mom said. "He just came here today. I decided to give him a basket of fruit as a gift." She placed lotus-shaped cantaloupe in the center of the basket. A finishing touch. "Will you take this to him?"

"OK," I said. She handed me the basket and washed her hands.

"He's on the left side of our house," she called out when I headed out the door.

When I arrived at my neighbor's door, I knocked on it twice and a tall, blond-headed man opened the door. His physique reminded me of a Ken doll. He looked like he was a college student in his early twenties, had a clean, shaven face and a strong chin. He also had big hands and muscular arms too. With his features, he definitely looked like someone I would want to have a crush on.

"Hi," I said cheerily.

"Hi there," he replied.

"My mom wanted me to give you this gift. Just to say welcome to the neighborhood," I said.

"Thanks," he smiled. "I appreciate it."

He took the basket out of my hand and started examining it.

"Beautiful," he complimented. "Look how neatly your mother cut the fruits out. Look at the details. Magnifique! I love how the colors blend together."

"You're an artist?" I asked.

"Yep," he said, matter-of-factly. "Your mother did a nice job. I really like it. Tell her I said thank you. By the way, my name's Kyle."

"Kaley," I smile.

Looked like we were going to be great acquaintances.

I started to notice a group of elderly men conversing loudly as they were walking pass Kyle's house. Among them was Mr. Handerma; he's is the loudest talker in the neighborhood. Mr. Handerman is somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties who lived alone ever since I moved into the neighborhood when I was very young. Some of the other folks in my neighborhood called him "Old Man Handy" or something like that. He loves socializing with others, but they don't often like socializing with him because everyone thinks he's a typical crazy old man. But I don't think he's crazy; he reminds me of a little enthusiastic kid trapped in an elderly man's body. I'm probably the only one who enjoys socializing with him.