Chapter One - The Gift
Fuck Savannah Emmerson and her shitty ass yard.
Antonio thought to himself every morning as he ran past the mansion, “Why can’t she just move away?
” This question had been in his head since the tracks.
After calling the city multiple times without avail, he was advised to gather signatures from everyone in the neighborhood to cite her.
He didn’t want to talk to the neighbors, so he chose to let it go.
He had gone to high school with most of the people on Lull Lane, of course, others had moved into the empty homes of those who they never heard from again, like Larry.
“Why is everyone pregnant at the same time anyways? Did I miss pact day?” His thoughts filled his head as he tried to run.
“Oh, what a day to run,” he sighed out to himself.
Joy filled his lungs as the sun kissed his damp forehead.
As the pregnancy came to an end, Antonio and Camille spent time putting the nursery together.
Wanting it to be as perfect as possible, they never missed the opportunity to work in their baby’s new room.
Even though they had found out months ago they were going to have a girl, they still wanted to paint the room shades of white and gray.
After all, they were Camille’s favorite colors.
While they were painting the room, they kept the window open.
As the wind picked up, it snapped small branches and twigs from a nearby tree, sending them flying into the bedroom.
A few struck Antonio in the face as he continued to paint, while dust and other small debris swirled in through the open window.
“Can you please close the window?” he asked.
“Sure, honey, are you okay? You seem troubled ever since your panic attack a few weeks ago.”
“I am okay, I shouldn’t have run as far out,” he replied.
Antonio never liked to worry Camille, he often kept his thoughts and feelings to himself.
Ever since his mother’s death, he had a challenging time showing affection.
Camille knew about his family’s tragedy and for that, she always knew not to push his boundaries when he remained quiet.
She was never one to yearn for pointless chat, growing up as an only child and a “bedroom baby,” she felt comfortable with absolute silence.
Smiling at each other with not much to say, they continued to paint. He stroked the wall with a paint roller, and she followed with a sponge, creating that opaque look, lifting a little bit of gray paint while leaving hints of white behind.
As the wind grew stronger and louder, a loud thud startled them both. “The fuck was that?” he exclaimed as he went to investigate. Walking close to the window, he saw a large, splattered stain of blood covering the outside of the glass.
As he looked closer, he noticed a crow lying dead on the window sill.
Antonio opened the window, trying to see if he could push the bird off to the ground, but as he did, the crow suddenly got up and jumped right into the bedroom.
Startled, Antonio fell backwards and tripped over the paint buckets, spilling them all over the carpet.
Furious about the spill, he gathered himself and reached up to catch the flocking bird.
After grabbing it, he snapped its neck, exposing the bird’s vertebrae, while blood began to drip down his hand as he tossed the crow back outside.
He knew the bird had landed nearby; he planned to take care of the issue after cleaning up the paint off the floor.
Camille sat on the ground, also splattered with paint and in shock from everything she had just witnessed.
She got up and left the room to catch her breath.
She hid in the bathroom for a moment, reaching into the cabinet for a baby aspirin.
After washing the paint off her face and changing into a slip-on dress, she went back out to help Antonio.
“Why didn’t you just catch it?” she asked.
“I didn’t think much of it,” he said. “I just did it.”
“I can clean the spilled paint if you want to go take care of the bird before the neighbors notice it.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m sorry about what happened. I’m not sure what came over me. Won’t happen again.”
Antonio leaned toward his wife, kissed her on her head, took off his shoes, and headed out of the room to wash the blood off his hands and change his clothes.
After grabbing a trash bag from the kitchen, he went outside to throw the ruined shoes into the garbage can.
Walking around the house toward the area where the crow had been, with more bags and cleaning supplies already in hand, he found that the bird was gone.
Confused and in disbelief, he couldn’t imagine any other animal getting to it this quickly.
He looked around the bushes and around the perfectly manicured grass, but saw no sign of the bird.
After searching in vain, Antonio continued to spray the window with chemicals, followed by rinsing with the water hose.
There was no longer a trace of the incident, no need to feed the neighborhood gossip.
Focused and deep in thought while putting the water hose away, a tap on the shoulder startled him.
“Sorry, Tony. Did I scare you?” a high-pitched voice squealed.
Just like in most neighborhoods, there’s always an older lady who likes to get into other people’s business and is nosy about what everyone is doing.
She’s also always ready to call the city if anything seems out of regulation.
For some weird reason, Miss Nancy had memorized all the neighborhood’s regulations and expected everyone to adhere to them.
Except for Savannah’s mansion, of course.
One time, she called the local police because the house behind hers was barbequing, and the smell of meat disgusted her.
She identified as a vegan activist. It seemed that the smell of any kind of meat was uncomfortable for her, prompting her to retaliate by spraying water from her hose at her neighbors’ grill from over the fence.
Her aim was surprisingly good considering her age.
Things between the two neighbors grew so heated, it was rumored that Miss Nancy was caught squatting and defecating on the Barkley’s front porch.
Supposedly, that was the reason why the Barkley’s ended up moving, though they never really said what the final straw was.
“Jesus! Don’t ever sneak up on someone like that,” Antonio growled.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask you if this was yours,” the old woman continued.
Holding the dead bird by its tail, its neck still bobbing and blood dripping, Miss Nancy held it up to Antonio’s face, her tone accusatory. She then showed the bird, expecting him to take it immediately, shaking it violently.
“How did you…?”
“You mean, find it? It was in Betsy’s mouth! You know, I don’t appreciate my baby running around with a dead crow in her mouth. God-knows what kind of diseases they might carry.”
“It flew into my window, and it died. I’m sorry that your Betsy got to it before I could.”
“I might forgive you. Before that, I wanted to ask you about the baby shower. I heard through the grapevine that invitations are out. Where is mine?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. You might have to ask my wife. I’m not in charge of those kinds of things.”
“Hmmm… Are you going to take care of this bird or what? I expect a proper burial for this poor fella, the least he deserves.”
“Fine, I’ll bury him in the backyard,” he said.
“Okay, have a good day, Tony. Hopefully, I’ll see you at the shower!”
With a forced smile, Antonio leaned forward and retrieved the bird from Nancy’s hand. Annoyed, he placed it in the trash bag. Then he grabbed a shovel from his garage and headed to the backyard to bury the dead bird, stomping all the way like an angry toddler.
After the encounter between the two neighbors and after wiping her dogs’ face to remove the remaining of the unlicked blood, she headed to the kitchen for a quick snack.
Miss Nancy grabbed a spoon and reached into the fridge for a jar of strawberry jelly.
She sat in her recliner in front of the TV, turned to her favorite show, and began spooning the jelly into her mouth.
After Betsy gave her a pleading look, Nancy tapped her lap.
When her dog jumped onto her, Miss Nancy asked her if she wanted a snack too.
As Betsy began to drool on her nightshirt, Nancy excitedly reached into her jar.
She spooned a large amount of jelly and put it into her mouth; then she opened her mouth to offer the jelly inside.
Betsy’s long tongue reached all the way to the back of Nancy’s throat, managing to scoop most of the jelly back onto her moist snout and into her own mouth.
Nancy especially loved when Betsy’s tongue wrapped around hers, making them lock for a microsecond before pulling away.
This was exciting for her, her love for Betsy was greater than any meaningful relationship she’d had in the past.
“You’re such a good girl,” she told Betsy, continuing to spoon another glob of cold jelly into her mouth before opening her mouth again to offer her treat. The dog was a Rottweiler weighing nearly ninety pounds, but she was still a lap dog to Nancy.
Later that night, Miss Nancy took Betsy to her bathroom, where she washed her mouth with her personal toothbrush and toothpaste before brushing her dog’s teeth with the same brush.
Brushing Betsy’s teeth would make her salivate more than usual, causing slobber to splatter and drip down Nancy’s face in bed for the rest of the night.
Meanwhile, after burying the bird and cleaning himself up again, Antonio got into bed next to Camille.
He reached for her and told her about Miss Nancy’s request, asking her to send her an invite out of politeness.
Camille never liked talking to most of her neighbors either.
The invitation had only been extended to one or two people down the street, mostly close friends and family.