When I was young there was a woman who lived across the street from me that I had on good authority to be a witch. She lived in a small one-story house closed in by a tall wooden fence with paint chipping off, and covered in a shade of pine trees. Let’s be real here – she scared the ever-living shit out of me and all of the other kids I knew. Theories flooded the neighborhood, and when you’re an impressionable six-year-old, it’s not a big leap into believing she killed her husband and let her dog eat his corpse in some sort of sadistic ritual. I was convinced. Every time I saw her walking her massive German Shepherd down the street, I clutched my Cabbage Patch Kid, hid, and sent out a few prayers. She frightened me so much I’d start crying if I was alone outside, or if I thought she caught me through a window. It was a truly terrifying time. She was my Boo Radley.
I’ve had an ongoing issue with one of the neighborhood kids in my cul-de-sac. I’ve posted about him before – making him swim in dog-poop-water, and kicking him in the balls one night when he walked – without knocking – in my front door. To sum it up, he’s a kid that has no respect for anybody and has asshole parents that don’t pay attention to him. I haven’t had much issue with him lately, except for the fact he leaves shit in my yard all the time even after I ask him multiple times to move them. So, I decided to start storing them in my garage for him, you know, so they don’t get ruined. I wouldn’t want his pretty new bike to get rusted or something, right? Okay, I’m a petty thief. I’ll admit it. I noticed him yesterday evening knocking on every person’s door but mine looking for his bike. He would glance over towards our house, but he was too afraid to come ask. I even went outside to get the mail, giving him a chance to talk to me in a neutral area, but he scurried away inside the second I started to emerge.
This kid literally ran away from me and was willing to give up his new bike just so he didn’t have to talk to me. That’s pretty bad. So, I’ve come to the sad realization that I am somebody’s Boo Radley, too. I don’t know if I should take it as an honor, or feel bad about it. Am I that crazy that the townsfolk are scared of me? Should I try to make nice with these kids, or ride it out until Halloween and try to scare them so much it’ll be a night they’ll never forget? What do I do with this great power?
(Don’t worry, this morning I wheeled his bike back to his front yard. I didn’t actually intend on keeping it.)
On another note – today is my 3-year-anniversary for signing up on WordPress. Woo! Granted, I didn’t start actually blogging until months after that.