(Originally on writing.com)
Today was August 14, a Tuesday. Exactly three months since my life had changed forever. I had expected my life to change anyways, of course; I had recently moved into a new neighborhood. But things changed in a much more drastic way, and I haven't yet been able to reverse those changes. I remember the fateful day as if it were yesterday...
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It was a sunny and cool day in May when I moved into the house in Linwood Ridge, an upper-middle class suburb located on the outskirts of the city. The neighborhood was relatively older than the surrounding area, but the community was vibrant and young which proved to be an attractive selling point. Before moving into the neighborhood, I had been cramped inside my one bed, one bath apartment in the middle of the city. It was a short subway ride to work but the constant noise and lack of space was driving me mad.
I had built up my savings working as a loan officer with a commercial bank in the area. Recently, however, fortune seemed to smile upon me when I got promoted to Chief Credit Officer, one of the highest executive positions in the company. The salary increase, combined with the opening of a new branch in the suburbs, gave me the best opportunity to relocate out here to Linwood Ridge. The house was too big for a bachelor like me but I didn't plan on staying single for much longer, I remember thinking. With my six-figure salary and benefits, I would have no trouble making payments and keeping good credit. That is my area of expertise, after all.
So it was, then, that I discovered the dark blue sheet of paper taped on to my new front door one afternoon after I had fully moved in to my new house. I should have thrown it away. Should have never looked twice at it. Should have minded my own business and never decided to go to that Homeowner's Association social event. I have since lost that paper but I think it looked something like this:
Calling all neighbors!
The eighth annual cul-de-sac social is back again!
Come on down to Orchid Street on Saturday, May 14, from 2:00 to 5:00 pm!
Bring your family, bring food, games, drinks, have fun!
Questions? Call our Association President at...
We hope to see you there!
But as fate would have it, I had nothing better to do that Saturday and wanted to get to know these folks better. I would get to know one of them rather intimately...
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"Hiya Brian! My name is Derrick Carver. The missus here is my wife, Liz. It's a pleasure to meet you." The overweight, tall man introduced himself and his comparatively petite wife to me. Extending my hand to his own, he clasped it with an almost bear-like strength and shook it heartily. I looked over to Liz Carver and smiled politely.
"Are you the one who moved in to that house just down the street?" She asked. That day, I remember she wore a floral-print dress flaring out at the knees, leading up to thin straps hugging her shoulders and leaving her arms exposed to the sun. She was wearing sunglasses and concealer, which were covering her crow's feet and wrinkles respectively, and she had taken meticulous care that morning to press her black hair into gorgeous wavy frills for the social that afternoon. Her perky breasts peeked out from the v-neck top of the flowing dress which rippled in the breeze. Derrick and I still towered over her 5'3'' frame despite her wearing 4-inch strappy high heels. Her earrings, necklace, and wedding ring were ornate and prominently displayed, as if she intended to outclass the other women at the social.
"Yeah, this looks like a nice place to live." I replied, watching the children playing about with each other in the street while the adults formed their own cliques to eat food, drink beer and chat. It was good to see young families with stable lives in the neighborhood, as it usually meant stable property values as well. "It was lucky that I managed to find that house and work through the details with the former owner so quickly."
"The previous owner had been trying to sell that house for months." Mr. Carver remarked in a low rumble. "With the housing market being as sluggish as it was, you know...."
"Actually, I know quite a lot about that, Derrick. You see, I work in banking." I proceeded to talk about myself some more, and then they shared their life stories including their only ch1ld. Marcus was riding his skateboard around the block with another boy who was following behind on bicycle.
"That boy riding with Marcus is Peter Michelson. They're best friends." Explained Liz.
"It's hard to find anything they won't do together!" Danny laughed, taking a deep swig of lager in his meaty hand. "They just got out of school, so they have all summer to muck around with each other. I've been telling the boy to get a job for chrissakes --
Liz slapped him playfully in the chest. "Hey now! This is Marcus' last summer before graduation. He can still be our baby boy for a few more months, can't he?"
"Whatever you say, dear." Derrick grinned, pressing his wife close to him and running his hand over her backside stealthily.
"So who else is here?" I asked. Liz departed to talk to the other women while Derrick took me through and introduced me to all the other families in the neighborhood. Besides the Carvers, there were the Longs, the Fultons, the Michelsons, the Smiths, the Greens, and a few others.
I stole a glance at the fiery redhead sitting in a lawn chair next to the food table. One leg tucked neatly over the other, Elizabeth Green was dressed in a white and pink scoop-neck top with long sleeves, white cropped pants, and open-toed pumps. Unlike the 52-year-old Liz Carver, Elizabeth still retained the beauty of her youth at 39. She was the youngest mother of the group, but her figure looked like it was the worse for wear after going through 3 children. A little exercise would do wonders for her waist and thighs, I recall thinking to myself. She was not overweight. Her figure was just the right blend of curvy and voluptuous to indicate to anyone that this was a woman of femininity and motherhood.
And then there was Victoria Smith, the oldest of the school-age children hanging out at the social (but far enough away from the adults to carry on without being bothered). According to Christopher Smith, she would turn 18 years old in September. Victoria stood on the sidewalk watching Marcus and Peter race each other in the street. I remember she was wearing a pair of low rise jeans, fashionably torn around the kneecaps, with a black cotton top that highlighted her modest, B-cup breasts. Her brown hair was tucked into a ponytail, and she walked about in polka-dotted flip flops. Her skin appeared to be tanned and free of any unsightly hair or blemishes.
It was then I noticed two women talking with each other away from the larger group of wives and mothers who had congregated near the plastic fold-out tables.
Seeing the curious expression on my face, Derrick explained, "Those two are the Fultons: Emma and Patricia. Shortly after they passed that new law in our state, they got married and are living the same crappy lives that all of us married people have to deal with."
"Politics and everything aside, they keep to themselves mostly." Added Jack Green, popping open another can of light beer. "Don't see 'em around too much. Glad they stopped by for the social though."
We talked more about our favorite sports teams, stories from work, recent vacations, and other eye-glazing topics that are so frequently the highlights of married suburban families' lives. I excused myself from the group of guys to grab some food, as I had spent all that time talking and the event was almost over.
Making my way to the assortment of tins, trays, pots, plates, and bowls of potatoes, sandwiches, lettuce, chips, beans, vegetables, and soft drinks, I felt the eyes of a few of the women gazing at me as I walked by. No big deal, I thought, I liked to stay active and physically fit (for personal and professional reasons alike). To be fair, I had taken a few looks of my own at the women, sitting together in lawn chairs and talking about God-knows-what.
As I loaded my paper plate with whatever food and snacks remained, I noticed a strange-looking item at the end of the table. It glinted in the sunlight, as if to beckon me over and look at it closer. I set my plate down on an empty lawn chair next to the table and got closer to examine the mysterious thing.
If only I hadn't!
But I did. My curiosity got the best of me on that infamous May 14th three months ago. I approached the item, which seemed to be out of place all by itself at the HOA social. Had it been there, sitting at the end of the table the whole time? I didn't recall ever seeing it there before. Perhaps it simply 'bopped' into existence for the brief period of time that I noticed it lying there. Perhaps somebody placed it there as a prank. Whatever it was, it changed reality for everyone and everything including me the moment I held it in my hand.
What was the mysterious object in question?
Go back - Go to the parent episode.
Sun Aug 27 03:23:55 2017