The Neighbor

The house was located in an area that perfectly blended a town and country atmosphere. Situated a few miles outside of a small, rural town, it was both a part of the community while being oddly separate from it. Although there were "neighbors," they lived well over a half mile down the road in opposite directions. It was a quiet, rural existence, just what the Umbry family needed after living in the suburbs for so many years.

In truth, Kathy Umbry was excited by the prospect of moving. She saw it as an opportunity to start over with her husband, Tim, and their son, Max. Indeed, the only facet of the move that she found somewhat distasteful was the knowledge that their closest neighbor, an older man who inhabited the property to the west, lived in a rather shabby abode.

The place wasn't exactly ugly, it was just neglected. The owner lived in a late model trailer that appeared to be more rust than metal. It was surrounded by a mass of untended trees, overgrown grass, and a collection of disused outbuildings. Even the windows seemed dirty. At first sight, the place looked uninhabited. When Kathy and the realtor had driven out to see the house for the first time, she'd glanced at the neighboring property and unconsciously made a face.

"I know," the realtor nodded, knowingly, "the place almost looks deserted, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Kathy admitted, "it's pretty rough. Does anyone live there?"

"An old man. Last name of Hammond. I guess he's been on the property forever. Nobody sees him much anymore. Something of a hermit, from what I understand. My friend, Mel, is one of those Good Samaritan types. She used to go over to the house a number of years ago. She said she could always see him sitting in there watching television, but he would never answer the door. She finally quit going. I guess you just get used to the solitude after a while," the realtor explained.

"I suppose," Kathy assented quietly. A moment later they were turning into the long driveway of the property Kathy had come to see.

The house was situated on four acres of semi-wooded land. The neighbors to the east of the house, the Bentham's, were wheat farmers who owned most of the land to the south and east of the property. Indeed, they owned much of the land in that part of the county. Kathy smiled as she gazed at their tidy farm in the distance before turning her attention to the rows and rows of amber stalks waving softly in the early September wind.

"I never thought I'd get tired of the suburbs," Kathy mused as she exited the realtor's car, "but then our son, Max, started high school last year and almost immediately started hanging out with the wrong crowd. We tried this and that, but nothing worked. We're hoping a change of scenery might help."

"Does your son seem excited by the prospect of moving?" asked the realtor.

"Hmmm..." Kathy tried to smile, but failed, "no...not really. He's been pretty withdrawn since we mentioned it. I just hope we're doing the right thing."

"Well, sometimes you've got to do something drastic," the realtor replied, trying to be supportive, "It's never easy being a parent. You always question your decisions."

The two stood in the driveway, feeling suddenly awkward. Kathy found herself looking around, admiring the antique lines of the house. She'd always liked older homes. They seemed to have so much character.

"Did you want to look around out here, or did you want to go inside?" asked the realtor finally.

"I guess I'd like to see inside," Kathy answered.

"We'll use the back stairs," she pointed absently before adding, "Most people like to enter these older houses through the back door because it's right off the kitchen. Easier to keep clean," the realtor chuckled slightly at the end of her explanation before unlocking the door that lead into the house.