The Noisy Neighbors

By

Nicky Petrillo

copyright © 2009 All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was laying my head against my silky soft satin pillow. I felt all warm from the inside out. My bed seemed like it was meant only for Kings and Queens to lie in. As comfortable as I was,I had know idea what was about to happen next...

 

I heard a loud roar as I was starting to slip away into my onimous slumber. The roar was that of my two noxious neighbors. They yelled back and forth to eachother like two cats fighting over a feline in heat.

" Well screw you Norman Tree !" Yelled Sally Mae ferociously. My only thoughts were,'Why did I ever choose to live in this dump?' A statement I would often mutter to my spouse, Loyal. She would knod her head with compassion, but I knew that their screeching did not cause her grief,though their arguments would persist.

" Well screw you too you good'fo nut'in smut!"Exclaimed Norman in an enraged pitch. The grammer of these two was quite amazing to say the very least. Were these two half-wits really this ignorant? First of all,yelling at the this time of night was really grandiloquent and distastful. Second of all,I had an infant child that my wife and I were trying to get to sleep. Furthmore, my anger would become so unruly that I feared I would explode. Once more, Norman would bang the paper thin walls that confined us like a prison and scream at Sally Mae with rage.

 

" Screw you,you bitch!You smut! Sleeping with Ray Ray and Jon Jon!" What the hell was I hearing? Ray Ray? Jon Jon? Who would be so concieted as to name their child Ray Ray or Jon Jon? I would often jump out of my king size bed and quietly sneak over to our wall,(that acted more like a fence,than anything else), and listen to their maniacal altercations. Well I had to do something. And I had to do it fast.

So I grabbed a phonebook and began searching for anyone whom I thought would be able to dispose of my problem. After browsing the yellow book for an hour,I came across a peculiar name. Jack clansey inc. There was no phone number to be found,just the name and an address,which read:

423 East 43rd St.

Yellow house. Knock once. Then walk in.

Buyer beware!

I ripped the page out of the book,grabbed my boots,hat,and blackpowder revolver and quickly left my apartment. My wife and child were fast asleep,unaware of my exit. I was still able to hear Tweedle Dee and Dumb squabble as I shuffled down the ice-coated stairs. I nearly slipped twice,but I managed to maintain my balance long enough to reach my truck. Then ofcourse I slipped as I opened my 1972 chevy door. The door screeched so loud I was sure Norman and Sally both heard. I pulled myself up from the cold wintery ground and hopped in my truck. The damn door would not close this time. I reached out to try and grab the handle but upon doing so,I managed to fall out of my truck again. This time hitting the pavement with my face. 'That's just great',I thought. I picked myself up from the ground,once again,and I proceeded with my journey.

I drove around the area for what seemed like hours before I found this yellow lacerated house standing before me. It looked vacant and daunting. I gathered my courage and proceeded towards the house. I was jumpy and nervous. Like a deer fleeing a hunter. The front door had all spiderwebs covering it,and the handle resembled a shrunkin head. I couldn't remember how many times I was to knock,so I knocked twice just to be sure. The door immediately opened. No one was behind the door except darkness.

I let myself in and I walked blindly through the house. The darkness seemed to overtake me,almost suffocating me as I stumbled from one corner of the house to the other. I knew I had protection in my rear trousers. My Blackpowder Revolver. I reached for it but my hands could not find it. I searched every part of my person but the gun was not in my posession. Had I left the gun in my truck? No, I would have seen it ! I would not leave a gun like that in my vehicle. Perhaps it fell out of my pocket upon entering my truck? Or when I fell out of the goddamn thing?! Well too late now. I can't go back and check. I can't leave this spooky house and head for my truck. That would mean that I would have to swim across this darkness which seems to have no end,and try to locate the door. I might as well move on. I had to find this Jack Clansey.

 

I climbed sightlessly up the long wooden stairs which creaked with every step I took. My breath was shallow. My heart pounded wildly. Without any weaponry ,I was defenseless against whatever or whomever resided here. As I passed priceless heirlooms I heard a familar ring. A song I have heard many times. It was coming from my side pocket. Shit, it's my cellphone. Beeping foolishly in this frightful house. It was a sure give- a-way that there was an intruder in this house. The sound would let anyone staying there know that I was an intruder. It continued to ring. So I picked it up,flipped it open,and quietly whispered,"Yes?" I could see it was my wife calling. But why?

" Sam,it's Loyal! Those assholes are barking again! Where did you go?"

 

I took a deep breath and replied,"I was look'in to fix that problem. I came upon a house I found in the phonebook. It was some type of removal service...So I'm checking it out!" Just then the cell went dead,but I did not know it.

" Loyal...! Loyal!!! Are you there? " I screamed intensely but my wife did not answer. I thought something was happening at our apartment and I was not there to protect her. How selfish of me,I thought! Here I have a gun but I refuse to use it. Instead I seek the help of someone whose name I seen in the phonebook. A nameless face that does not exist. Now my family needs me and I am here,in the darkness,with no excape. I must leave at once!

I ran down the stairs faster than I have ever ran before. I could see the glimpse of light between the cracks of the front door. I felt home free. I was inches away from the door. But as I ran clumsily down the broken battered steps,I lost my footing and with it my fear. As I fell face forward down the stairs,my life seemed peaceful. I felt as I did moments before my neighbors began their shouting match. I felt like I did as I was laying my head upon the soft silky pillow I had just bought that day. I felt as I did when my infant child was born and I first looked into her soft blue eyes. Blue as the ocean,and as calm as the sea. I felt like I had the day my wife and I first spoke our wedding vows. I was at peace. My thoughts intertwined with my dreams. Almost every dream I ever had flashed through my minds' eye. With it,capturing all the feelings that belonged to each and every dream thereafter.

My final thought was of myself as a toddler. Running through an amusement park as my mother took a picture of me. I was able to remember the joy that I had at that very instant. The carefree pleasant feelings that rushed through my toddler brain. Thoughts of happiness and thoughts of the here and now. No worries about later. No regrets about yesterday. Just right now was all that mattered to my young brain so many years ago. Yet the memory was playing as if it was happening today. That was my last thought. I smashed into a floor board which had a long nail pointing through the top of it. The nail punctured my temple. Death was instantaneous. Before I lost consciousness I stared up toward the door which was within my reach. Written on back of the door was words that I could not believe. Jack Clancey:Undertaker. So that was the disposal service that I read in the book. That's funny. I smile as everything fades out.

                                                  The End......?