The Severis Tales 7: The New Neighbours

The Severis Tales

7: The New Neighbours

©2020.8 Patrick Rivers

About ten years ago, Dorothy Tomlinson passed away at the age of eighty-two. Her husband, Emil, also of the same age, could no longer live by himself. It forced him to move from 10 Pine Street, his home for forty years. The house stayed vacant, falling into disrepair into disrepair, with the for-sale sign continuously rotting and sinking an inch further into the ground each year. Neighbours on each side—the Narrows family of 8 Pine Street, and the Severis family of 12 Pine Street—had the peace to themselves; so it was to everyone’s surprise that last week, on Marrin 3, 1104, a massive “FOR SALE!” sign was hammered into the rotting wood in the overgrown lawn.

It was strange for Leena Severis, who pondered about their new neighbours. “It’s strange, you know, about next door,” said Leena to Xiveer that day. They were washing dishes together in the kitchen when she brought up her feelings about the sign she saw on her way home from their store, Severis General Goods.

“I know what you mean,” he replied, scrubbing away plates and cups in the soapy water in the right hand sink. “I hope whoever bought it realizes the condition it’s in. They invested not one penny into the place since Emil moved.”

Leena received a plate from Xiveer. She rinsed it in the clean water in the left basin, then put it on the dish rack. “I wonder who bought it?” she said.

“I think Gerta said they were, uh, foreign—a family from Britanna or something,” He was talking about Gerta Hutter, who lives at 13 Pine Street. A strict, well-disciplined and upright socialite of the middle and working classes, Gerta has her nose in everything and knows about events before most of Pine Street does. The only other bit of knowledge she knew was that the new family was due to arrive on Mondas, the ninth of Marrin.

Leena looked up at her husband. “Really? A family not from Caldore? How exciting…” Her enthusiasm suddenly vanished, and she frowned. “I’m not sure I like it, to be honest.”

Xiveer sympathized. He, too, liked the quiet of his back yard—nothing to the left, and only the soothing sound of corn plants blowing in Franklin Ferguson’s fields on the right. They knew the house would eventually be purchased and they would have to be on good manners. He put his head on Leena’s shoulders and his horns poked the skin on the side of her neck. “I wonder, though. If they are coming thousands of kilometres from Britanna to live here, they will have lots of cash. That begs the question—who in their right mind would want to come live in a place like the east end? I mean, by the sounds of things, it suggests the middle or northern parts of Barlett would be their ideal location. What do you think?”

“It’s a good question,” said Leena after a long pause. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

 – # –

The Trans-Caldore Rail System is one of Caldore’s greatest engineering feats, and one of Algenon’s as a whole. Trains exist in the world, but never on a huge scale for the likes of Caldore. After several meetings and arguments and biscuits, work began at the eastern edge of Caldore, linking to Fundy Spires and sprawling out westward, while western Caldore went east. Barlett is the most western place one can go on the trains; they expect the east and west networks to link within a few years, with the entire north networked within ten years. The age of gears and wheels and flowing steam has arrived. Where previously it took weeks by horse and cart to go anywhere distant, a journey by train can be completed in just a matter of days.

The Chesters disembarked from Barlett’s new train station. They got directions to the property manager’s office, grabbed their new keys, then took a cab to Pine Street. They are a family of elves that come from Britanna, a large island country across the ocean. The Chesters are: Bertram “Bertie” Chester, a Britannish man; his wife, Sara Sabutomishi-Chester, an immigrant from Jipara who lived in Britanna most of her life; and Mia Chester, their half-Jiparan eighteen-year-old daughter. The family wished to move from the increasingly claustrophobic and polluted cities and come to a place of open skies and country. They settled in Barlett. They also made the expensive decision to haul their furniture and possessions from overseas, which is to arrive in a week.

Leena wanted to meet them, but at the advice of her best friend, Mila Daruginna, she instead shied away to her bedroom window, which, as it turned out, was excellent advice. She watched the taxi pull away, revealing the horrified and dumbfounded faces of her new neighbours as they looked at the dream home that is a dump. “Oh, my,” she muttered to herself, holding her hand to her chest.

Across the street at 13 Pine Street, Gerta Hutter and her husband Walter watched their entrance from their kitchen window.

“What a terrible sight,” remarked Walter, eating a crumpet.

Gerta slid a doily underneath his teacup to prevent spillage on the counter, much to his mild annoyance. “I wonder if they’re in the mood for a greeting,” she said out loud. She meant it as a thought, but it came out of her mouth instead.

“Why would they be interested in saying hello? Look at them!” said Walter.

Mira Hutter, their twenty-two-year-old daughter, walked into the kitchen. “What are you two staring at?” she said to them.

“Our new and sad neighbours,” said Walter.

“I saw it from my window,” she replied. “Perhaps if someone put some effort into keeping the house in shape, it wouldn’t be such a tragedy.”

“You can’t renovate a house that isn’t yours, Mira,” said Walter, sipping his tea. “There are too many legal consequences. Besides, the house isn’t yours, it’s against the law.”

“But now they’ve moved in, perhaps you can and show compassion?” Mira didn’t mean to say it like that, but it was too late. Walter cringed and looked back with fear. Mira’s light slate grey skin and her half-dragon scales running down the sides of her neck and across the upper parts of her cheeks went red as if the lights changed colour to alert all hands on a submarine to battle stations. “Sorry,” she mouthed, her smile turning into a concave frown.

“What an excellent idea,” said Gerta. “I shall pass this by Leena. After all, she loves these projects, and they are her neighbours.” She threw on her cowl and darted outside.

“Thanks a lot!” Walter cried.

Meanwhile, the disgruntled Bertie looked over the state of the house. A bedroom window was broken, shingles were missing from the roof, some gable logs were rotted, the grass was overgrown, and it all smelled of dampness. “Utter shambles, all of it,” he said miserably in his West Country farmer-like accent.

“I would not have agreed if we knew it was this bad,” said Sara in her half-Jiparan, half-Britannish accent.

Mia said it best with a look of resignation across her face. They were all tired—the journey from Dorrington was long and arduous—they felt jet-lagged, and it took forever to sign the lease and get the keys. It was a bad day turned worse. Yet, Bertie would not give in—he grasped his keys and led the family to the front door.

Bertie gave a smile and slid the key into the lock. As he turned the key, they heard strange noises from next door, and what they saw was remarkable—a crazed dragon-like creature, or Larry, as he is called, shouting obscenities and punching one of the large spruce trees in his front yard for no apparent reason.

“What an unintelligent man,” said Sara, peering at Larry over the fence.

“Are you sure this is better than back home?” Mia said flatly. “Looks like there’s something wrong with him!”

Without warning, part of the tree broke, and a grown man, Xiveer, screamed his way to the ground. He laid on the grass, covered in needles and bits of twig. Then, to top it all off, a woman with long, blond hair, or Leena, as she is called, came rushing out the door and barked at them both. During her speech, she saw from the corner of her eye the gawking Chesters looking right back. She pinched Larry by the wing and grabbed Xiveer by the horns, forcing them to smile and wave back.

The Chesters plastered on fake smiles and waved back. “Let get inside before they come over,” Sara muttered to Bertie. He opened the door, and she pushed him and Mia through quickly.

Just for the record, Xiveer was harvesting young buds and needles from the spruce trees in their front yard. They use the needles for tea and other home remedies, but also sell them in the shop. Somehow, the ladder fell and Xiveer found himself twisted within the branches. Unable to free himself, he got Larry to help move the tree about until he fell through. They never thought to try the ladder first.

Meanwhile, Walter and Mira watched the unbelievable but all too familiar spectacle unfold. It soon became apparent to Walter that Mira was not watching the Chesters or Leena or Xiveer—she was instead watching Larry. “Lucky your mother isn’t here to see you staring at him. She would flip if she did,” he said.

“Mom thinks we’re dating, and I have no idea why. There’s a rumour going around that we are. Can you believe that? I barely know him, and I’ve lived here longer than he’s been alive. Plus, he’s weird!” she said with a sour face.

“What brought all that on?” he asked most innocently.

“Yesterday we ran into each other at Peren Stockwood’s bakery. It got awkward, but he said something that was rather embarrassing but very interesting and somewhat satisfying.”

“And what was that?”

Mira looked at Walter. She was wearing a similar grey dress with a white blouse with white stockings as she did yesterday. “He said I looked nice. That wasn’t the weird bit. He made a comment about those cakes I bought, and when I made a counter argument about my weight, he said it was all right, because it suits me.”

Walter blinked. “He called you good looking because you’re…large?”

Mira shrugged. She is a tall woman, but with a plump figure. Although she considers herself to be on the larger side of plus size, it does not concern her. While was bullied in the past about her weight, her sudden interest in Larry started that day, triggered by that one comment. He may be weird, but it was strangely comforting. “I never thought I’d hear it from him,” she said, eating a grape from a bowl.

“It’s compliments like those that get you into trouble,” said Walter, laughing. “He’s a good kid, but a spoiled one at that. Your mother believes in hard work and strict house rules. She would lose her mind trying to shape him up.”

“I’m not infatuated wit him, Dad,” Mira told him. “I never talk to him because he sometimes freaks me out. Besides, he’s eighteen.”

“I didn’t think that was a problem. I met your mother when I was eighteen, and she was older,” he said. Mira’s gaze switched between the Severises and the pre-spring flowers in their front yard. “You never know. Life has a strange way of bringing two random people together, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Mira said softly. Suddenly, she shook her head and slapped her father on the shoulder. “Stop it, Dad!” she barked. Walter ducked and ran away, laughing, with Mira shouting, “It’s just a damn rumour!”

– # – 

What the Chesters saw from the entrance was even worse than the exterior. The wallpaper that lined the foyer hung down and over, exposing the holes in the wood behind it. The sound of critters not normally found in a dwelling was heard around them. There was dirt and dust everywhere. It was clear the property owner did not keep up with repairs. The words “condemned building” immediately popped into Bertie’s mind.

Sara let out a sniffle followed by a whimper. Bertie wrapped his large arm around her small shoulders. “It’s not that bad. I’ve been in worse places!” he said in an attempt to cheer them up. He looked up and poked the ceiling with his walking stick. The plaster gave way and crumbled onto his patchwork flat cap. He frowned, miserably adding, “Come to think of it, those places felt safer…”

Mia went to explore the upper level. The bathroom and other rooms looked all right. Then she opened the door to what would be her bedroom. While Bertie and Sara had a look around the main level, they heard their daughter scream at the top of her lungs. Mia ran down the stairs, her white dress floating above the floor. “Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope!” she shouted as she bolted past her parents and clean through the front door.

“Bertie, we can’t stay here,” said Sara. “The house is death trap, and we just step inside!” She tugged on his wool jumper. “Please tell me it will be all right!”

“It will be all right,” Bertie said. He did not believe it himself, but years of experience travelling and being on the front lines of a battlefield gave him an instinct that said all will be okay. Good old Bertie, always looking up. “I’m curious to see what made her run away like a woman possessed. I’ll be back,” Sara had a look around the rest of the house while Bertie went upstairs. She dare not go down into the cellar, fearing she may not come back from the depths of hell. She heard the door latch, followed by a pause which then Bertie belting out, “Bloody Nora! Sara, come up here! You need to see this!”

Sensing danger, Sara bolted up the stairs and stood motionless and in disgust. The Mia’s room was home to at least twenty pigeons whom were flying in and out through broken window. With no one around to keep them out, the pigeons built an empire of twigs, trees, eggs, and droppings. It was one of the most disgusting yet spectacular sights they bore witness to.

They slowly stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door. “Well, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Bertie remarked.

The rest of the house was in decent condition, although a lot of work would be required. Unfortunately, the trauma and disappointment of their life savings going down the drain was too much for poor Sara, who leaned against a wall and cried. Bertie put down his walking stick and gave his wife an enormous hug. “I know how you feel. It is not what we expected, but we knew this would be a possibility. After all, we did this solely by telegram. We can’t go back now, so we must make the best of it. Stiff upper lip! I can only hope that our neighbours are welcoming and friendly.”

Sara looked up at Bertie. Tears ran down her frightened, bloodshot eyes. “Friendly? Did you see our neighbour? Where is Mia? Oh, no! Mia! Don’t go out there!” Fearing for her daughter’s life in a street full of lunatics, she ran off in search of her daughter, with Bertie in tow. He was more worried about Sara at this point.

Five steps from the porch was all it took. They looked over at their neighbour. Once again, Larry was punching and kicking the tree as Xiveer gave him words of encouragement. Watching them again was Leena, cross. She was cross at herself for failing to comprehend how this scenario could play out a second time in a row. And there was Mia, helping them out. She used her martial arts skills to dropkick the trunk, causing it to violently shake. That entire time, neither she nor Larry acknowledged each other—she was keen to help out, but her own shyness and anxiety made her mute.

“What…what are you doing?” Bertie shouted over the fence. They wheeled about onto the road and to the spruce tree. Bertie looked down at the ladder which was now broken. He looked up and Xiveer looked down at him like a curious cat exploring a world below.

“Hello, there!” he said, waving cheerfully. “May I inconvenience you for but a moment and give me a hand?”

Bertie looked dumbly at his wife. “Well? Help the idiot!” Sara barked back.

Leena marched over with her arms folded. “Hey, don’t talk to my husband like that,” she barked back. “Idiot is too kind for him! Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Yes, dear…” muttered Xiveer.

“What’s a better word for him…” Leena asked herself.

“Knobhead?” Sara suggested.

Leena clicked her fingers. “Good answer! You hear that, Xiveer? You’re a knobhead!”

“Yes, dear,” Xiveer muttered again. Without warning, the tree let loose. He screamed as he fell out of the tree. He laid on the ground, sprawled out like a twisted corpse, his eyes looking in different directions. He slapped his face, jumped up, and with twigs and needles in his hair and twisted around his horns, he stuck out his sap-covered hand to Bertie. “Xiveer Severis. Pleased to meet you, neighbour!” he announced with pride and misplaced charm.

Leena smiled. It was not the way she wished to meet her new neighbours, but it was something. “I’m Leena,” she said. The two shook hands. The smile lasted only a moment when Leena asked about the house. Sara whined and nearly cried. “Oh, dear,” she quipped. Looking at them from the bedroom window, she knew it was bad, but she never knew it would be this bad.

 – # –

Being the hospitable house of the neighbourhood is a trait Leena prides herself on, a trait that is lauded by others of the Pine Street community. That night, she entertained them with a supper of stewed beef and gravy, steamed vegetables, baked potatoes and bread rolls. It was the first proper hot meal they had since landing in Caldore. Sara does not eat many potatoes or bread rolls, but she would not complain. Their spirits were lifted. Larry and Mia still would not say a word to each other.

After the dinner, they relaxed in the Severis sitting room. Happy they were rescued, and happy Michale went to bed early, the Chesters talked about themselves over drinks. Bertie was conscripted into the Britannian Army by his father and sent to Jipara, and after witnessing how they were treated, he discharged himself and went back home after just two years. It was during the travel back home that he found his love of writing and journalism. He met Sara upon returning home, and the two married against the wishes of Bertie’s family. Sara herself was born in Jipara but moved to Britanna at the age of four. She developed a fondness for Jiparan and Britannish cuisine and culture and graduated from culinary college with a degree. Mia is a talented musician. She can play classical guitar and piano and will join Barlett College for the upcoming school year.

Much to her surprise, Leena felt overwhelmed by their accomplishments. She could not help but compare her family to theirs. It set in her an irrational jealousy and fear of them. She felt discouraged, as if they, a poor working-class family, had set out dinner for an elite family who did not say thank you. She stared into outer space as they talked. Xiveer tapped her on the shoulder and asked if everything was all right. Leena smiled—she did not want to make her guests uncomfortable.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, she blurted it out, as if on cue, the suggestion from Gerta Hutter: the idea for a renovation. To be fair, it was not a suggestion, but an order. Xiveer panicked almost immediately. He could not back out, of course, because unlike his elder son and his astronomy studies, he has a genuine excuse to back out. Larry’s anxious excuse piqued Mia’s interest. He is definitely weird, she thought to herself. The stars? Do people really do that and not be pointed at?

Bertie and Sara were over the moon. Back home, they had friends who would help them out, but never an entire neighbourhood of strangers. So, with a sizeable chunk of money they had left, they took their immediate belongings, and, with some of Leena’s connections, put them up at a motel where they would stay for five days. From Mondas to Fridas, the “volunteers” would work to bring the house back to life. Once the Chesters settle in, they can take care of the rest.

With no other option other than to live in despair, they accepted. Xiveer and Leena walked them to the door. After they looked at the crude map given to them and disappeared down the street, Xiveer turned around and became cross with his wife. “She put you up to this, didn’t she?” he growled.

Leena could not apologize enough. “You know how Gerta is! If I didn’t do it, she would drag me by the ears until someone said yes. I’m so, so, so sorry! For what it is worth, it is a good idea. I promise to try to help if I can. I’m sorry!” She put her hands up to her face, as if she was about to cry.

Xiveer winced. He was not comfortable at all with this arrangement, but alas, it was Gerta Hutter, the Pine Street socialite who set him down this road. It’s no wonder people avoid her and fail every time. “It’s not your fault, dear. You and Reena will have to work at the store tomorrow. I’ll gather who will be willing to participate and have a meeting,” He held Leena close. Preoccupied with other thoughts, she stared into space. “Leena, dear? You in there?” he said, giving her a light shake.

“What? Oh!” Leena blinked. “Sorry. Say, what did you think of their daughter?” she asked him suddenly.

“Mia? What about her?” Leena poked her head back to give Xiveer the hint, and he pursed his lips, adding, “Seriously?”

Larry put his hand up. “I’m still in the room, you know?” he announced. Leena panicked and hid behind Xiveer. “Are we doing this ‘get Larry on a date’ thing again? First Mira, now her. What is it with you two, anyway?” Larry is something of a late bloomer. He is about eighteen-and-a-half years of age at this point in time, and while he acts like he is in his early twenties, his body decided now was the time to bring out the facial hair in full force. The hair on his head also grew thick among his dragon-like temples. Leena, ever the optimist, tries to get him—her socially anxious and awkward son—to socialize with the opposite sex, whether they like it or not. He is not interested in romance, at least, not right now. His primary concerns in life are having friends and not getting cornered by his arch nemesis, Toln Faresteed, and beaten to a pulp.

“Oh, pish,” said Xiveer, shaking his head. He pointed to Larry’s red face. “Let him decide for himself!”

“Let’s just go to bed. I’ll fix up the dishes in the morning,” said Leena. Larry headed for the back door with his drafting kit. She was about to ascend the stairs when she looked back at Larry and asked him, “What about Mira Hutter?”

Larry flapped his wings in the kitchen corridor and growled his way to the back door. It was a subject he was not willing to entertain.

“What was that all about?” Leena asked her husband.

“There’s a rumour going about that they got up to no good or something. I have no idea how it started or why it started or who started it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Let him be. If it gets bad, we can ask about it some other time. Let’s just go to bed. I’ve got a suddenly busy day tomorrow.”

 – # –

Mila’s pub is busy in the mornings. It is open to the public during the off-license periods for breakfast and lunch. Though most of her sales comes from alcohol and food, she enjoys a sizable chunk of revenue from the likes of coffee and jam.

Coffee was particularly on the table for Xiveer and the so-called Lads of Pine Street—a group of men who do community service for Pine Street and other parts of the east end. If you believe they exclude women in this group, it was in fact the wives of Pine Street who thought of the name. They are proud of what their husbands do, and they do participate in projects. Xiveer was chosen to head the “committee,” as was “ordered” by Leena, who was “convinced” by Gerta Hutter to make this renovation happen.

Xiveer found a few people who adjusted their work life to help out. They are: of 7 Pine Street, Ponterellan “Pon” Po’nomer; of 8 Pine Street, Toslin Narrows; of 13 Pine Street, Walter Hutter; and of 16 Pine Street, Bert Craftberg. Franklin Jok Ferguson of 14 Pine Street wished to take part, but his farm business took priority. But he did offer his tools for use. It was thanks to Mira’s slip of the tongue that Gerta made Walter take part.

The committee discussed what they knew of 10 Pine Street and concluded the front and back yards were priority, along with the pigeons, the floors, the ceilings, and the kitchen. Basically, the entire house. Then the debate about who does what came up, along with a second round of coffee and scones. Xiveer cut through the debate with a simple suggestion. “I think we should go to the house and do an inspection. You know, a detailed report, just to be sure,” he said.

“But what if there’s too much to do? We’re only five men!” said Toslin, twiddling his thumbs. Toslin, for all his muscular strength from manual labour at the west end docks, is a general worrier. He becomes paranoid when he hears sensational news or tales he often takes to be true. Toslin is that neighbour who double-checks if he locked the front door or made sure the oven was out when he leaves the house, then double-check once more. He once hid for two weeks when crop marks appeared in Ferguson’s corn fields and believe aliens from space landed in Barlett. It was in fact Pon’s idea, and Franklin was more than willing to sacrifice some crops just for the laugh.

“It is a lot of work to do, and with our day jobs, it will be stressful,” said Pon. “Surely, we can get some help. After all, we will be paying for things. We need to do it right.”

“A bunch of windows shouldn’t take much money,” said Xiveer. “Jok’s giving us some of his tools. None of it will matter if we complete the renovation, then watch them fall through the floor on Fridas. I agree, we need extra help.”

Said Bert, tapping the table for ideas, “We’re useless at doing lawns. Howe about Natafasma, Pon? Would she be able to help?”

Pon snapped his fingers. “That’s a good idea! She has been down a bit. With spring coming up, I know she would jump at the chance,” Natafasma is Pon’s wife. Both are water-born bipedal dragons from Fundy Spires, and she loves landscaping and gardening. Their back yard was once called the prettiest of east end back yards in Barlett. It is her hobby, her first labour of love. Her second love is working her shift delivering mail for Caldore Post. Pon nodded and smiled. “When she comes home, I will ask her,” he said aloud.

“I know a guy outside of town who does windows. I can see about getting them for a discount,” said Toslin.

Bert raised his hand. “I’ve done my share of plastering and wallpaper upholstery. I can do that!” he said.

“I can supply the drinks,” Walter blurted. He meant it as a joke. He is the assistant to the master distiller at Barlett Distillery, and a know-it-all about creating fine whiskey and scotch. In fact, a drink or two would not go amiss right now. It got a laugh from around the table. However, he does do a lot of carpentry and building at the distillery; he believes his skills will be useful.

With everyone assigned a task (Xiveer himself will handle some carpentry and deal with the pigeons), he wrote a detailed to-do list and passed it around the table. Before he could speak again, Mila came over for a visit. She saw them all come in and hustle around the booth, but never got the chance to poke fun at them.

“Well, ain’t it Pine Street’s finest,” she said sarcastically, folding in her blue and grey-skinned arms, her matted thin and black hair sticking to her shoulders and apron. “So, you will really ruin their house?”

“We’re not going to ruin their house,” protested Walter, pointing at her. “We can do this!”

“Bull,” said Mila, laughing. “Everyone remembers the community playground clubhouse! Oh, boy, the committee was ever so cross with you, and you lot—the same five people—are going to do it again! Redge and I are taking bets on the outcome. Want to place a few quid?” Mila was referring to the incident in 1100, when the Barlett Parks and Recreation Commission—the municipal body that maintains parks and wilderness in the city—gave them permission to build the new clubhouse on the cheap. Four children were taken to hospital when the seemingly well-built clubhouse collapsed on itself like an accordion. Mila laughed the entire day, laughing harder when the municipal judge ordered them to pay material recovery costs and do community service. Today, a proper clubhouse stands, paid in full with their combined fines. On top of that, they have banned all five men from the clubhouse for life.

Xiveer shrugged off her attempts to put them down. “We learnt our lesson. You will see, Ms. Daruginna, we will do this correctly!”

Then Mira Hutter appeared next to Mila. “Hello, father, and everyone,” she greeted them. It was a rather formal and direct greeting.

“Mira? What are you doing here?” asked Walter. “Aren’t you supposed to be up at the College theatre?”

“I’ve got a few errands to run,” she replied, reaching into her grey coat pocket. She pulled out a set of keys and surrendered them to Xiveer. “Mrs. Severis asked me to give these to you. They are the house keys to 10 Pine Street.”

“Um, thanks,” said Xiveer. “Anything else?”

“Yes, a warning from mother,” Mira leaned into the table and whispered those frightening words, “Don’t screw this up. Everyone’s watching you.”

Walter glanced over Mila’s shoulder. Two of Gerta’s social friends were sitting at a table on the other side of the pub, watching them like a hawk. “Did they get you to say that?” he whispered.

Mira winced uncomfortably. “I like having my day in order. Being a disciplined woman will guarantee me a proper life. Do you know what that is like?”

Toslin shook his head in fear. “No, no, I don’t!” he cried.

Mira pouted. “But when mother or her ‘friends’ are around, I must be to her standards. Don’t get me wrong—it’s good to have goals in life—but sometimes I’d like to have one moment to myself!”

Xiveer blinked. “Oh…kay?”

“Sounds like you don’t like the upper-class social,” said Mila. She paused, then followed with a thumbs-up gesture. “My kind of girl!”

Mira shrugged. “Whatever. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re all doing this,” she waltzed around Mila and kissed her father on the cheek. “I’ll be home late this evening. Keep the stew warm for me, Dad.”

“Take care,” said Mila. Mira waved back as she moved off, her plump figure and dark grey dress flowing in the draft as she pass through the front door. “What a sweet girl. Such a smart and warm-hearted woman. You raised her well, Walter. Not that I can say the same for another, like Mr. Severis here…” Mila said, grinning. Xiveer jabbed her in the side and she laughed.

“Here’s something you don’t hear every day: the entire time your son bashed that tree of yours, along with their daughter, Mira was watching him. She’s been a little preoccupied with him since that rumour began,” said Walter. “They rarely talk to each other, even at the College. She thinks he’s weird, yet still curious,” He put his cup of coffee to his lips and shrugged. “I’m finding it interesting myself, if I’m honest.”

“She’s interested in him? They’re at that perfect, innocent age. That should happen,” Mila said.

“You know they’re not going out, right?” said Xiveer.

“Look, darling—I’m just saying that she could teach him a thing or two, like having a proper social life,” She glared at Xiveer, expecting a rebuttal about his parenting skills. Instead, he nodded and drank his coffee. Xiveer is not afraid to admit—at least to his friends, and that includes Mila—that he shares the burden of responsibility on how he raised Larry and how they pampered him. All he can hope now is if Larry learns right through experience in life. Perhaps Mira could do what he and Leena could not, and although he would not raise his hand to such a union, he knows Leena’s state of mind on these matters.

Nonetheless, Xiveer was proud of his elder son, arguing, “He’s grown up so fast since he turned eighteen. He made friends and his confidence has grown. He leaves the house when he wants, and he’s having a laugh. He used to only have Elcra as his best and only friend; now, he other friends, among them that Terrence Howard kid in his astro-thingy program. I used to dismiss what he did as fantasy, but after hearing it from him, I’ve changed my mind,” It struck a deep-rooted chord inside of him. It made him think. “He’s a very private person, but devote your time to him, and he will open up. He’s a lot smarter than he leads you to believe, and he’s a lot smarter than me. I think he’s done rather well, so I won’t hear any of it!”

The passionate speech about Larry was unexpected, even more so to Mila. “I don’t think I’ve heard you speak about him like that. Oh, I do feel terrible…” she said quietly.

Xiveer laughed. “Don’t be! You know how he is. He’s just grown up so fast in the past few months,” He looked up at her and smiled. “But he’s still a lazy sod! I can’t get him motivated at all! Not even a job! Lad doesn’t know money when he sees it! Maybe, when he turns nineteen, you can give ‘em a job, eh?”

“Like hell I will,” said Mila. “He is a great kid. We talk, we chat, I can see for himself how far he’s come. The day he gets a job in here is the day he takes over your shop, and the chances of that are zero.”

Bert ate a muffin. “This renovation is going well, isn’t it?” he announced. Bert likes to stay on topic.

“Right…sorry!” said Xiveer, shaking his head. “Having an old man’s moment, I guess.”

“Aw, don’t say that. However, you guys are just sitting here doing sod all. You talk about lazy? Like father, like son,” said Mila.

Xiveer jabbed her in the side again. “You…you go back tending to your bar!” he said. Mila ran off, laughing.

“Does Leena know you’re like this with her?” asked Toslin.

“You kidding? She encourages it,” said Walter. “Three peas in a pod, they are. Mila’s one of their closest friends.”

“She’s in fact Leena’s closest of her friends. She thinks I’m an idiot, and she’s right, but she means well,” Xiveer pushed his chair in. “But enough of that. We have a house to save. Come on, let’s go!”

 – # –

It was just past noon when the unlikely Lads of Pine Street entered the dank and dark house. After closing the door, Toslin had an accident by poking the ceiling to check the structure. Part of it came down on his head. It nearly frightened him out of the house. Bert gave him a few words of encouragement (not the first time he had come to his rescue). Thankfully, he stayed his nerve.

They started in the basement and worked their way up, noting everything from wood rot to mould to unexpected drafts. Xiveer could not believe the state of Mia’s bedroom—for ten years, he saw that window from his own bedroom window, never recalling that many pigeons come and go. Toslin reared his head at the state of the kitchen and oven. The overall state dismayed Pon. They believed that with a little extra elbow grease, they can fix most of the problems in a pinch.

And so, over the week, the Chesters went about seeking employment and staying close to the motel and waiting patiently to see their broken home mended by people he doesn’t yet know. Toslin helped tear down the old wallpaper and mend the walls with new wood and sealant. Bert and Walter hammered away to replace broken bits of walls and give the building a new partial frame. Xiveer, under the influence of the fumes of the “industrial grade” cleaning solution Leena used to clean away any evidence of pigeons, laid down carpeting and tiled the kitchen. He congratulated Leena and her twin on a fine job in Mia’s bedroom. After he was checked out by doctors for possible brain damage, they forced Xiveer to take the day off, but the others worked even harder.

Then there is Natafasma Po’nomer. She is a tall woman with blue scales and skin of blues and grays where no scales are, such as her palms and parts of her face. Her almond-shaped eyes are light opal blue, a perfect contrast to her long midnight blue hair, which she keeps in a ponytail and flung around the back of her neck and over her shoulder. Right after her shift on Mondas, she stood at the front of the Chester residence in her green and blue overalls, holding an enormous pair of shears over her neck. She smiled a smile that was a mix of affection, love, sweetness, happiness, and adventure. Not only does she love wild, elemental colours in her clothes, with two lawns to mend and craft to her own desire, she was in heaven. Her tail swung away as she chopped and shifted spoil with a shovel. Once in a while, she would fly up onto the roof to see her work from above. The joys of having wings. By Fridas afternoon, the Chesters had the second most beautiful yards in the east end, with shaped gardens around trees and clay pots full of flowers on the rear terrace. She completed the terrace with a patio set she purchased with her own money.

It was to everyone’s shock, that apart from Xiveer and his fume-based hallucinations, did the Lads and Lasses of Pine Street not only do the job accident-free, but they did it with love and skill. Of course, they were under the watchful eyes of Gerta and her friends, who also watched Leena. She smiled at the result, not a common gesture from the strict, retired farmworker in her older days.

That late afternoon, the Chesters came to their renovated home. All six eyes lit up in wonder, and Sara cried. There were still issues, but at least the house was livable. Mia’s bedroom was devoid of any pigeons. Not a single, lonely feather was left behind. Even the creaky and rusted iron gate swung in silence and was rust-free. Mila, losing her bet to her trusted cook, Redge Tradford, patronized the renovation crew by personally bringing a case of wine from her pub cellar. They celebrated at the Severis residence.

Everyone was happy, except Leena, who could not put pinpoint the reason why. Though she hid it well, she was, in fact, depressed; she did not feel the celebratory mood in the air. Maybe it is the fear of becoming unpopular among the community, but she felt as if her livelihood was being threatened. Only two noticed her mood change—Xiveer and Natafasma, her second closest friend next to Mila. Leena played it down as anxiety and hoped it would soon pass.

That night, Mia prepared for bed in her makeshift cot in her bedroom. She looked out of the new crystal clear window, where she could see not only the Severis house, but their entire back yard. There, sitting in a lawn chair with several pencils, books, a lectern, and coffee, was Larry, staring up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and the sky was full of stars. Perhaps he was one of those weird kids who dream big of going to the Moon at some point, or maybe he’s just weird and trying to get a tan off the stars. The scene piqued her interest again. Perhaps she will ask him one day. If only she wasn’t socially awkward…

 – # –

Leena’s mood turned gloomy over the weekend. She watched the Chesters move about in and out of their house, while she sat in misery. The kitchen window allows her to see over the fence and through to their kitchen window. On Saturnday, Sara prepared steamed eggs, rice, and vegetables for a breakfast. It was a course she considers a supper, yet it smelled so much better of a breakfast than her own eggs with toast and well-creamed oatmeal. It certainly smelled healthier. It was beginning to sound as if her fears were justified—the Chesters are middle class and have a lavish lifestyle where they can afford their dreams, and they moved to Pine Street to assert dominance and to marginalize her. She tried shaking off the thoughts, but it was no use.

It was not just breakfast that threw doubts into her mind. Occasionally, Sara would wave from her side of the fence in her fancy silk gown while holding a fresh cup of tea, and Leena would awkwardly wave back. Sara would hang laundry perfectly on the clothesline in the backyard, while she struggled to hang anything in the wind. To try to upstage her, Leena watched her make rice with beef and spring onions in an onion-based soup, then tried to emulate the dish for Sundas dinner. Xiveer, Larry and Michale gulped down the dish without doubting its taste and quality, but Leena felt it wasn’t enough, and she put herself down.

Cut to Mondas (or Monday) at ten in the morning. Leena, Xiveer, and their sole employee Reena MacTavish are busying away during a spell of sales at their shop, Severis General Goods. Leena kept to herself, going from a ray of sunshine when handling a customer to a dull grey rain cloud when they leave. Xiveer maintained his usual cheerful demeanour in an attempt to cheer Leena up and to distract Reena from asking questions.

Mira Hutter walked through the door. Today she wore her light grey but heavy shirtwaist dress with white stockings. Mira favours darker colours with white to contrast her light slate grey skin and plus size figure. “Good morning,” she greeted them. It should be said that Gerta avoids their shop, preferring to buy goods at higher quality shops, even if their store is listed as one of the best general stores in the east end. Walter and Mira go there anyway, but they are often ratted out to Gerta by Karl, Mira’s younger brother.

“Morning, Mira,” said Xiveer, opening the trapdoor to the cellar.

Leena didn’t say hello. Instead, she replied with, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the theatre or at school?” Her irrational mood took full swing the moment she walked through the door.

Mira shrugged. “No lectures today, and the theatre is shut down for some renovations. I’ve nothing to do, so I thought I’d come and say how good a of a job you folks did. The Chesters are quite proud,” she said.

Leena shrugged her shoulders, much to Mira’s surprise. “They did a good job,” she simply said.

“The Chesters?” asked Reena from behind the counter. She scratched her curly brown hair as she finalized a delivery order for Mrs. Aptow on her farm, just outside of town.

“Yeah, their new neighbours from Britanna,” said Mira.

Reena snarled. “They’re Britannish?” She said it as if she accused them of something ghastly.

Leena rolled her eyes. “All right, let’s not kick it off, that was flipping ages ago, all right? At least, in this day and age, Britannia and the Highlands aren’t slaughtering each other with swords and arrows. Some people just have to spit bad blood hundreds of years after the fact. I don’t want you getting up in their faces if they come in here, you hear?”

Astonished, Reena backed away. “All right, I get the bloody picture!” she said, shaking her head.

“Mrs. Severis, is everything okay?” Mira asked.

“Everything is fine, sweetie!” Leena replied in as calm a voice that she could muster.

“Um, okay,” Mira walked to the sweets shelf, picked up a glass jar of blueberry juice and a packet of vanilla wafers, then brought them to the counter. A guilty indulgence, Mira acknowledges her large waist to her sweet tooth and love of food, though she gets plenty of healthy exercise and keeps herself below a certain weight.

Leena rang through the items. “You keep eating these and you’ll grow much fatter than you already are,” she suddenly remarked. “You know these things are bad for you.”

Mira shrugged. “I’m not that big. I admit I am tall and on the higher end of plus size, and I love sweets. And if you think I can’t feel good because of my weight, I’ll have you know I was recently complimented about how good I look.”

“Oh, who by?”

Mira smiled. “I’m surprised you don’t know. It was your son.”

Leena’s eyes widened, and she gasped for air. Xiveer started laughing in the cellar and he had to come up. “My son, Arendor Severis, he complimented you on your looks…and weight?” she said aloud. She said it as if it was a dumbfounding remark to make, though it should be said that Leena wouldn’t put down others because of weight.

“Aren’t you guys aware about the rumour going around? He said it to me awhile ago in Mr. Stockwood’s store. After that, various people have been making comments about us behind our backs, and not all of them friendly comments, either. Besides, what’s wrong with what he did?” Mira said. Leena’s reaction rather annoyed her. Suddenly it was she was on the defensive.

Xiveer popped his head above the floor. “So that’s how the rumour started! My son’s finally getting out there, is he? You realize he is only eighteen, right?” he said, jokingly.

“Xiveer!” Leena reared her head and looked at him with demonic eyes.

Mira put her hands on her hips and looked directly at him. “I thought you would know better, Zai-Veer Severis! It’s not everyday I get told I look great for not being thin; and while it was awkward and embarrassing, it was uplifting to hear,” She walked over and pointed at the middle of his head. “Let me tell you this: A, it is perfectly acceptable for a man to compliment a woman and not hit upon. Two, I’m three-and-a-half years older, which is still socially acceptable and maybe even encouraged. C, I don’t know who started that rumour, but while we live on the same street, I barely know him, we don’t hang out, and no, we aren’t going out!”

Xiveer frowned. “I was just making light-hearted conversation!” he whined.

Mira’s cheeks went from slate grey to rose red. “Oh. In that case, I’ll show myself out,” she said quietly.

She made it to the door when Larry unexpectedly stepped inside. They stared at each other in awkward silence for several seconds, just like in Peren Stockwood’s store. Mira glanced at Leena’s steaming eyes for but a moment. She smiled at Larry, gave him half her packet of vanilla wafers, then left the store.

Confused, he watched her leave. “Cheers!” he saluted her, holding the wafers up in the air. He turned around and met his mother’s cross eyes.

“Hi, Son! We were just talking about you!” the gleeful Xiveer said. Before he could continue, Leena marched over locked him in the cellar. “Hey!” he said, his voice muffled by the door.

Leena shouted to him in a scornful tone, “You don’t get to come out of there until you’ve organized that cellar!”

“Yes, dear,” replied Xiveer’s muffled voice.

Reena poked her head around the back door. “I’m going out on delivery. I’ll be back in an hour!” she yelled, closing the door shut.

“Very well, see you soon,” Leena said cheerfully. She turned to Larry and became incensed. “And just what are you doing here this morning?” she barked at her son.

Larry gulped. “They cancelled lectures today. They’re having a meeting, apparently. Waste of a morning, if you ask me,” Cautiously, he approached the jars of juice and pulled a strawberry flavoured jar from the shelf. He put the jar on the table and produced the appropriate change.

“When are you going to earn yourself your own money, Larrynton?” Leena asked him. When something bugs her, or when Larry or Xiveer does something to tick her off, she becomes aggressive and emphatic. Symptoms of this state of mind include: scolding Larry on his laziness, scolding Larry on his social skills, scolding Larry on his lack of interest in working for the family business, and calling Larry by his full name, Larrynton, or his fire-birth name, Arendor.

“You know how hard it is right now. My studies take up most of my time,” Larry protested. “I’m eighteen-and-a-half. I should have a job. I get it. Why have you locked father in the basement?”

“Because he was going to talk about Mira, that’s why,” barked Leena as she tended to other things behind the counter.

“Are you telling me you’re upset because I complimented a woman?” said Larry. Leena refused to respond, which, at that point, he connected the dots, he too finally realized her frustrations. “It’s about our new neighbours, isn’t it?” he said. “You don’t like them, do you?”

“What do you mean?” said Leena. “I like them! They’re good people!”

“What’s your problem with them, then?”

“I don’t know,” said Leena, turning around. She huffed, then she let out a sharp exhale. “I can’t tell you. It’s scratching the back of my head and I just can’t figure out why. Look, dear, I’m sorry. What do you think I should do?”

Larry uncorked the bottle of juice. “Go and talk to them. I’ve talked to them, except for Mia, she’s too shy. Or, better yet, have a look right now. Elcra and I were watching them move their furniture, but she had to go, so I came here. They do have some nice items…”

That was all she needed to hear to ignore her responsibilities at the store. She looked to the left and to the right, then jumped clean across the countertop. “I’m going! I need to see this for myself!” she said, running off.

“Mother? Mother!” Larry sighed.

There was a knock underneath the floorboards. “Hello? Is anyone there? I’ve finished organizing the cellar! Can I come out now?” Xiveer’s muffled voice rang right into Larry’s sensitive ears. He pulled up the trapdoor, his eyes meeting his father’s icy stare.

“Hi, Dad,” said Larry, swigging the juice from the jar.

“Where’s your mother?” Xiveer asked him directly.

“She ran away to see the Chesters unload their furniture they brought overseas with them,” Larry replied. “Honestly, what is wrong with Mother? She’s acting very strange.”

“You see it now too, eh, Son?” said Xiveer, pursing his lips. He climbed up the steps and latched the trap door. “I don’t know what’s going on inside her noggin, but it’s clear something about them has hit her right in the heart.”

Larry’s almond-shape amber eyes flattened into dashes. “What’s this about me and Mira?” He was met with Xiveer’s hands waving in frightful protest. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! I get it! I get it!” Larry cried, stumbling backward.

“No, you don’t understand,” Xiveer said. “She told me what happened. I made a bit of a light-hearted joke and your mother growled at me as if I committed some sort of sin. Then Mira got very touchy about it. Is there something going on between you?”

“What the f…no! Nothing is going on between us!” Larry said grumpily. “Whatever! Um…should I follow mother home?”

Xiveer scratched the back of his head. “I think you better, Son. She’s out of her wits!”

Larry grumbled as he lumbered to the font door, where turned around. “By the way, there is something I want to say. A, it is perfectly acceptable to compliment a woman without hitting on her. Two, even if she is three-and-a-half years older, it is socially acceptable to go out with her. C, adding to B, yes, we live on the same street, and yes, I barely know her, but no, we are not going out, a’ight?”

“Yes, Son,” said Xiveer, holding his head in shame.

Larry shook his head in disappointment. He passed through the door, adding, “You say one pleasant thing to someone, and the entire town thinks its news. Good god…”

“Yes, Son,” Xiveer said again.

 – # –

Tensions between Leena and the family continued to rise through the week. She tried her damn best to pinpoint what part of the new neighbours bothered her, Leena avoided Sara every time they ran into each other, bringing confusion upon the latter. It would only be time before Sara confronts her.

“I just don’t understand,” said Leena to Natafasma Po’nomer, who stopped by for coffee on Thulis, or Thursday. That morning they sat in the sitting room together, where she provided an ear for Leena’s worries. “I can’t figure that missing link. It’s none of my business, but everything I do they do better—food, clothes, furniture. One of theirs is musically inclined, and I can’t as so much as use a whistle. She’s better. Now, their entire house is better, and I’m upset over it. What do you think?”

“I think you’re upset because you feel as if they own you, Love,” Natafasma replied, dropping two sugar cubes into her coffee then buttering a tea biscuit. “Remember, they come from a different land with a different economy and culture. I thought things were strange at first when Pon and I crossed over from the Spires. Whatever is ‘standard’ over there might be considered luxurious over here. They may have different values or food over there, but you shouldn’t feel burdened because of it. Or, maybe they’re just like you, and all their stuff is equal to yours,” She stirred heavy cream into her coffee and smiled as she took a sip. “I delivered mail for them for the first time. Sure, Sara might be a little uptight, but even I could tell they would not fit in the west end. They aren’t that kind of people. I can tell you a lot of trivia about some of their decor, however.”

Leena winced. “Another time, perhaps,” she said. Natafasma has a habit of collecting useless trivia or mundane facts about ordinary items, and she is not entirely aware that she spouts these facts as if somehow the receiving party would be interested.

“So what is bothering you? What has got your hair in a tug?” Natafasma queried.

“I don’t know,” Leena said, scratching her chin. “I’ve always tried to be the hospitable one on the street. I’m so used to the peace, now uprooted with the sound of Mia tuning her guitar and piano. Not that I don’t mind it, but when I hear it, I can’t help but fell like I’ve let my family down.”

“Hun, I think the answer is clear,” Natafasma pointed with her spoon to the sitting room window. “Talk to her. Find out what her interests are. Get a better picture of why they came here, and what they’re like. Besides, it’s causing your family problems,” She said it plain and blunt, direct and to the point.

Leena stared into her coffee. “I feel terrible for how I’m acting, but I can’t snap myself out of it. Even Larry’s becoming annoyed at me. That whole Mira Hutter thing, and now me.”

Natafasma whined. “Oh, I see.”

That caught Leena’s attention. “What?” She gasped. “It was you, wasn’t it? You started the rumour! They’re getting talked about behind their backs, and not in a good way, either.”

Natafasma threw her head down. Her long, midnight blue hair hit Leena in the face, making her flinch. “I thought nothing of it! I heard there was a rumour going around they were, you know, doing what young people do when in love. It was in Stockwood’s bakery store. I was farther down, and the two of them ran into each other. He came out with the comment. It got awkward, but they laughed it off. I thought it was cute. I overhead her joking about how awkward a rumour it would be. I guess Peren and I made small talk, and it took…off…from…there…”

Leena raised an eyebrow. “You…started a rumour about a rumour? I expect that level of prank from your husband. That’s top notch, I like it!” she said.

Suddenly, the paranoia set in and Natafasma’s face turned red. She looked around discretely but nervously. “They’re not here, are they?” she whispered.

“I’m here!” Larry said out of nowhere. “Something wrong?”

Natafasma screamed. “Um, nothing! I’ll see you later, Hun,” she said to Leena.

Larry watched Natafasma swash her tail about as she fled the house. He shrugged. “What was that all about?” he asked.

Leena got up and looked out the window. “As she said, it was nothing. Just a little fright,” She drifted off and stared out the window, lost in thought. Quiet as a church mouse, Larry reached over for the last tea biscuit in the bread bowl. His hand came within centimetres of the bowl when Leena snapped her head back. “Arendor Severis, get your hands off that biscuit!” she roared.

“Christ!” Larry screamed. He fell into the armchair, his heart pacing a million kilometres an hour.

Then Elcra came in with another basket full of breads that Leena ordered from their farm the night before. “Hello, Mrs. Severis,” she greeted her as she put the bread down in the kitchen. She came back to the sitting room to see Larry sprawled out in the chair, his eyes cockeyed, his hands clutching his chest. “What’s come over him?” she asked.

“Why do you think I’m so obsessed about our new neighbours, Elcra, dear?” Leena replied instead.

Elcra did not have a ready answer, and she was not sure if a reply was proper. Elcra’s relationship with Leena is akin to that of a second mother, and she treats her with the same respect as her actual mother, Clara. Nonetheless, the change in her mood concerned her. “I think you don’t want to be forgotten, and by ignoring them, you feel superior. That doesn’t work. We tried that ourselves. Have you interacted with them? Xiveer and Larry have, hell even I have. Have you tried?”

“Not really, no,” said Leena.

“Then stop diddling about and go meet your neighbours!” Elcra said with a sharp tongue. It caught Leena by surprise.

Then a knock came at the door and Elcra answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello, is Leena in?” It was Sara Chester. She was wearing very casual summer clothing, a blouse with blue flowers and a beige dress that contrasts with much of the fashion in Barlett. Her hair was held up with clips, giving her hair a bobcat-like hairstyle with bangs hanging on each side.

Elcra opened the door. “Please, come on in.”

Sara walked in and spotted Leena looking out the window. She looked at the armchair and Larry’s contorted body, his tail wagging as the only sign of life. “Mrs. Severis?” she said.

Leena closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. She exhaled, then turned around. “Oh, Sara! I didn’t hear you come in! What can I do for you?”

Elcra used her farm girl strength to pull Larry up out of the chair and to his senses. “We were just leaving. We’ll be back later,” As they passed the coffee table, Larry jumped into action, swiping the last tea biscuit in the bowl and fleeing the house with Elcra flailing about behind him.

“What an interesting couple,” Sara remarked.

“They’re childhood friends. The Winterbottoms are like an extended family to us,” said Leena.

“Ah, I see,” Sara walked up to the window, next to Leena. “So, this is where you spy on me,” she said aloud, much to Leena’s shock and embarrassment. She wanted to say something, but put her head down and looked away. Sara laughed. “I know you watch me here and in the kitchen,”

“Sorry,” Leena whined.

Sara leaned against the windowsill. “Don’t be—I watch you too,” she confessed.

The comment took Leena by surprise. “You…you do?” she stuttered.

“I’m interested in you, but you never talk to me. I can’t help but notice. Is everything all right?”

“It’s really embarrassing,” Leena said. “I don’t know if you want to hear it or not…”

“Are you a pervert?” Sara said, raising her eyebrows.

“What? No!” Leena shouted defensively. “It’s just…I…I was unsure when you moved in that I would like you. Ten years we did not have a neighbour here. I don’t know what is bugging me.”

Sara looked around the sitting room. “You have lovely house,” she said. “Is mine better?”

“Maybe,” said Leena, sniffing. “When I saw how well you cook, I felt like you put me in my place. I saw your furniture, and I feel—”

“Jealous?”

“You must have a lot of money to come here and to have all the fancy things that you want,” Leena said, grabbing her hair.

“Fancy? That’s fancy?” said Sara, raising another curious eyebrow.

“I feel so…small, like I could have done better. I can’t help but compare myself to you. I said it was embarrassing,” Leena glanced at Sara, then looked away. “Why did you come live here and not in the west end?”

That was when the penny dropped. Perhaps it wasn’t just the feeling of being made smaller because they were more efficient. It was the irrational facade of a posh household where their so-called lavish lifestyle meant they can have what they want. It made Leena feel depressed and defeated. All that money, and they come next door to her. It made her irrationally jealous and angry. How dare they come to this place and upset all their lives!

If only it were true.

“I think you have me at disadvantage,” Sara said, looking around. She began comparing herself to Leena and vaguely shared her point of view. She smiled and said, “I can see how you feel about us. Truth told, we aren’t middle class.”

“You aren’t?” said Leena.

“I suppose it mean different thing between us. Our decision to settle was made a few years ago. We saved money and prepared for this. Many of the thing we have are second hand and cheap. I just make them look good with varnish and stain. We are the ones worse off.”

Leena blinked. “R-really?”

Sara looked out of the window. “When we came here and saw the house for the first time, I cried. I thought we would be on the street. We had money to spare for settling and for food, but that it. But you saved us. I couldn’t be like you say if you came to our rescue, could I?”

“I suppose not,” said Leena. She sniffed. “Oh, I feel so terrible…”

“We had good neighbour back home, but a lot of race problem. I have experience it all my life, and I will, here, too, in Caldore. But here, on Pine Street, you showed compassion. Bertie says I’m sometimes full of myself, and I am, but I was involved in the community where we lived. I have much to show, and you have much to show me. Give us a chance, yes?”

Leena nodded and gave Sara a crumpled smile. Sara suddenly lunged at her and squeezed her tight in a big bear hug. “What…what the hell are you doing?!” she squealed.

“Leena Severis!” Sara sang as she hugged her, letting go after a few seconds. “You are a fantastic lady! How do you feel now?”

“Much better,” Leena said with a full smile. “You really are full of life!”

“It would be rude on my part not to ask this. Because you helped put the house back together, we are inviting Pine Street to come to a dinner party. Bertie is going about the invites. Would you help me in the kitchen on Saturnday? Cooking all day. Potato and rice. Yes, that would be good. It the least I can do to repay you for what you have done for us.”

“Yeah, I’d think I like to,” said Leena, nodding hastily. She was giddy and excited. With assurance from Sara, she felt like her normal self again. Sara is a friendly person, and maybe more so if it weren’t for her efforts to get the community spirit involved. “What should I do?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Sara looked at Leena’s outfit and shoes. “You know, we spent that week getting jobs. We never explored the town much. Now that we are settled in, we have time to do these things. It the morning—would you care for a day out with me?”

“A day out?” The request surprised Leena. She never had a day out with anyone in ages. All her friends are busy people themselves. She herself is too busy to have an entire day to herself.

“Yeah. Your son told me about your knowledge. I’d like to see some of those places. Show me the town!”

“I-I don’t have much money on me,” Leena said.

“Don’t worry about that,” Sara said, tugging on the lapels of her blouse. “Food is on me.”

And that was Leena’s day. She showed Sara the landmarks, the shops, including her own, and all the places of interest. Leena lectured her on the history of Barlett and where it is going. She also showed her how fun it is to annoy Brackneed Vendyor at his own shop in the west end. They sat and ate lunch in the park. They had fun. It was the stress relief they both needed.

They returned home in the evening and went their separate ways. With a shopping list for Saturnday, Leena will spend most Fridas preparing for the party, and she will have fun. She will wave back at Sara, stop spying in the window, and go about her business and family in the way she knows best. Xiveer and Larry felt the force of change the moment she walked in the door. Once again, all was well at the Severis residence.

– # – 

The dinner party turned out to be a small but very social affair. Though many responded, the only ones that attended were the families of those involved, and they are: of 7 Pine Street, the Po’nomers—Pon and Natafasma and their creepy teenage twins, Korrico and Korrica; of 8 Pine Street, the Narrows—Toslin, his wife, Ardanna, and their disabled son, Tyrel, who requires a wheelchair; of 12 Pine Street, the Severis family, with a placid Michale Severis; of 13 Pine Street, the Hutter family—Walter and Gerta, and Mira and her younger brother Karl, who dressed formally for the occasion; of 16 Pine Street, the Craftbergs—Bert and his wife Martha, their geeky son Melbern, Bert’s cranky live-in father, Berrick, and their trouble-making twenty-five-year-old daughter, Shanna, who behaved herself for once; and, of 14 Pine Street, Franklin Ferguson, who accepted the invitation because his tools made the job possible.

Leena, who had a blast in the kitchen with Sara, made a fantastic meal of potatoes fried in goose fat, served with beef and bread and butter with an assortment of vegetables, combined with Sara’s beef soup with rice noodles. Aided by Sara’s expertise in fresh vegetables, Leena also made a killer salad. It was just like Erandor, but better.

The food came out to applause. The smells filled the house and rose through the cleaned vents and crept along the mended walls and ceilings and through the window in Mia’s bedroom, now protected by a screen from birds and bugs. They served the food with juice for the youngsters, table ale for the adolescents, and Mila’s wine for the adults. There was coffee, too.

A cherry cheesecake followed the main course. Cooked by Leena, it was so rich, it made the Po’nomer twins bounce around like a binary pair of rubber bouncing balls. The description given by Natafasma, their own mother, was along the lines of “fecking insane.” When the sugar ran out, they dropped as if their batteries had run out, collapsing together in the corner of the sitting room, asleep, like a set of creepy dolls in matching outfits.

Out in the backyard, everyone sat around a dug out campfire. Mia played tunes on her guitar and they clapped along, except for Larry, Mira, and Natafasma, who went to the front to have a bit of a chat. The incident in Peren Stockwood’s store had been on her mind since Thulis and she had to come clean.

“I know who started the rumour about you two going out,” said Natafasma, twiddling her thumbs.

Mira folded her arms. “This should be good. Go on,” she said.

Natafasma told them she couldn’t help but eavesdrop, and how she blurted it out, thinking nothing of it—Mira’s joke statement about the rumour, to be precise. It became a rumour about a rumour, and she felt embarrassed about listening in on them and how it got out of hand. She fell to her knees and begged for forgiveness.

“Arise, Lady Po’nomer,” said Mira, lifting her up by the arm. She glanced quickly at Larry, then grinned. “Honestly, nothing bad happened. It was just an accident. I didn’t think anyone else would have thought it cute.”

Larry blushed. He gave off faint whines of anxiety.

“I’ve known him since he was born. I’ve never heard him say something so brazen before. A comment about a woman’s weight could land you in big trouble,” Natafasma said.

Mira looked into her opal blue eyes. “But not all women have the same attitude toward those comments. I’ve been bullied about my weight before, and I hear them behind my back. Sometimes it hurts, yes, but I’m a positive person. I maintain my weight. I try to stay healthy. Was his comment awkward and embarrassing? It was, but they don’t come often enough, and I was glad to hear it from someone like him.”

Natafasma herself whined. “I didn’t mean…”

Mira giggled. “I like how you found it cute, and I appreciate your genuine honesty. You’re fine by me, Natafasma.”

The greenish areas on Larry’s cheeks reddened to match the blush on the elf side of his skin. “Where is this going?” he asked quietly.

Natafasma shook her head. “Spoilers, dear. That’s between you two. Now that I’ve done good, I’m going back for more wine. Come and join the others!” She curtsied and scurried off to the backyard, leaving them alone.

“That was interesting,” said Larry after a long pause. “I think she’s had a little too much to drink,” They looked around in silence for a while. “Say, um…”

Mira spoke directly. “We never talk, do we? We occasionally see each other at the College, but we never chat. We never acknowledge each other, though occasionally we come up in conversation. I used to think you were quite weird. I mean, you were weird and fragile before you started College.”

“They never stop telling me,” Larry said plainly. “I am weird. I like things other people do not. I’m doing something that gets me laughed at. The comments about my appearance never stop, much like the comments about your size. They hurt, but I’ve tuned most of them out. Perhaps I am not as weird as I used to be.”

She noticed him shuffling about. “I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?” she said while looking straight into his eyes.

Larry’s heart pounded so hard, he thought he would go into cardiac arrest. His anxiety and acid reflux kicked in full. “I, uh, um…” he stammered. He took a long, drawn-out breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. “No, you’re not. I’m just uncomfortable in general,” he said shyly.

Mira looked out on the darkened street. The gas lamps flickered, illuminating the small flowers growing in the lawn’s grass. “Do you think it would work—us, together, I mean?”

“What?” he said.

She asked him straight and with her no-nonsense attitude, “Arendor Severis—do you want to go out with me?”

“As…as in…on a-a-a…date?” Larry stammered. His anxiety went into full swing, and he began babbling incoherently. He was so nervous, he couldn’t control himself.

Mira giggled. “Fair enough. I have a better idea,” she said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I’m do—” He couldn’t lie to her. His social anxiety was so high he couldn’t process what he was just asked. A date. Someone asked him out on a date. He is eighteen, she is twenty-two. Larry could not see it happening, but she was attempting to socialize, one thing Leena always wanted of him. So he told the truth. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow,” he said calmly. His anxiety went away, and he felt grounded again.

“Then, let’s hang out,” she said. “You’ve managed a few female friends since College, how about me?”

Truth be told, he was more comfortable being friends with other women than he ever was six months ago. Mira and Larry, after living on the same street their entire lives and rarely speaking to each other, will have a lot more to say to each other, starting tonight. He was annoyed about the ratio of male to female friends he has, but it is not worth complaining about. Larry smiled and nodded. “What do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked her with confidence and a stable voice.

“The Tea Room at eleven in the morning. I’m interested in what you know about the sky and the stars. I’m interested in why you like it so much,” she said.

“R-really?” said Larry. “I usually get laughed off for trying to tell people about it.”

Said Mira, enthusiastically, “Not me. I like theatre and things imaginary and out of this world. I’ve always wondered about it. If no one else will listen, I will.”

“In that case, I’m glad. Talking to Terrence about it is useless—he’s my science partner and I think the only friend who is a guy,” Larry smiled. His snout-like mouth looked more friendly and less twisted.

Hey, throwing your own party?

Mira yelped. Xiveer stood right behind them. “Oh, feck! Mr. Severis!” she swore.

Larry suddenly stood straight. “Father!” he yelped. He and Mira looked at each other, looked at Xiveer, and nodded.

“What you two doing out here for so long? Party’s out back! We’re missing you!” he said. He looked at the two of them and went slack-jawed. “Are you two…actually going out? There is something going on, isn’t there?”

They both shook their heads.

“Oh,” A slight look of disappointment came across his face for a moment, adding, “Well, there’s always next time, I guess.”

Mira cocked her head, smiled at Larry, and rejoined the party in the backyard.

“Did she ask you out?” Xiveer pushed for an answer.

Without looking, Larry muttered a “Yes” under his breath.

“And you said no? She practically gave you an open net to score the goal. It’s sudden, yes, but even I could tell she was taking a shining to you!”

“Dad, I turned into a soggy mess. But that’s all right. We’re doing stuff tomorrow,” he said. “I think I’ve done all right.”

“You give yourself a lot less credit than you deserve, Son,” he said, slapping him on the back. “Don’t tell your mother this, but I think she sort of hoped that rumour was true. Now, I don’t know how that makes you feel, but—”

“I’ll get back to you when we’ve decided on it,” Larry said. “In the meantime, let’s go back.”

Xiveer laughed. “That’s my boy!”

– # – 

And that was that. Two unexpected tales of friendships, and one hell of a night for the social anxiety-ridden half-dragon. From out of nowhere, Mira Hutter came into his life. We sometimes have the most unexpected of unexpected events happen to our lives. In Larry and Mira’s case, a simple, harmless remark (with a little help from Natafasma) kicked off something that may end up truly special. Maybe, on Sundas, he will say yes to her. Or maybe they will have a close friendship. Mira wants to be part of his social circle and listen to him when others will not. For Larry, it alarmed him at how comfortable he was to her affection, a sign of things to come.

For Leena, she earned another stamp in her book of life. She learnt that the smaller, more resourceful Sara Sabutomishi-Chester was much like her—caring, devoted to her family, and willing to go to bat for her community. So what if her English has a few letters or words missing here or there? That didn’t matter. It was their ideals and quirks that brought them together. It was a life lesson that she learnt the hard way: don’t judge a book by its cover or read between the pages for something which is not there. Now she can sleep peacefully knowing their neighbouring home, which has sat vacant for ten years, is in good hands.

Our souls are on an endless drive down the endless rivers of life. We sometimes hit a current, and they determine what streams we ride through next. No river has been more tumultuous than Larry Severis’ own—just half a college year, and he has learnt many of the life lessons he himself missed as a reclusive youth. Perhaps Larry and Mira’s rivers will join, and they will ride the rivers of life together; or, they will unexpectedly separate and separate back into their own streams, distant and apart. Life has its difficulties; sometimes, those downs come with great rewards. With Leena, her peaceful and docile life is rife with sharp rocks and emotion-swelling tides, never sure when her raft will sink or crash onto the rocks, but she will always make it through. Perhaps she will hit a rock, and the damage will be permanent, but like all of us, we do our damn best to stay afloat.

~ END ~