3. Chapter Three #2
Gus whined before putting his head down. He covered his eyes with one paw. He acted like Simon was making a big deal out of nothing. His paw slipped down, and he peeked at Simon.
“You are still in trouble.” Simon gave him a stern look.
Gus whined as though in denial of doing anything wrong.
“Stay right there.” Simon stepped inside and grabbed Gus’s six-foot leash.
When he stepped back out on the deck, Gus hadn’t moved. In fact, the only thing he moved was his eyes as he watched Simon walk toward him.
Simon hooked the leash around a post on the deck before he hooked it to Gus’s collar. And then he repositioned Gus’s big water bowl so he could reach it. There. Now he could relax and get back to work.
Gus turned his head away before he rolled onto his side to go to sleep. The dog may be acting chill, but Simon knew from past experience that Gus hated being leashed. If a dog could be a free spirit, Gus would be one.
Simon grabbed his keyboard writer and sat down. All of this made him think about his book. Perhaps his superhero has a sidekick. Maybe it’s a dog or maybe it’s an intergalactic pet. It could definitely add some fun to the story to help offset the severity of the world ending.
The addition of a pet would be different from his other series. But he worried it would make the story too light. He didn’t write feel-good, happy stories. His stories were dark and unpredictable. It was what he was known for.
He had settled back on the deck chair while Gus napped in the shade. He was a couple paragraphs into his book when he heard music playing. It wasn’t anything he would normally listen to. This was some sort of pop music—all bouncy and much too loud. And it was coming from his neighbor’s place.
He tried to ignore it. He really did. But as he stared at the blinking cursor, he couldn’t hear himself think. All he could hear was that annoying tune.
Did she have to have it so loud? Couldn’t she turn it down? Or close the door or window?
He thought of going over and knocking on her door, but he hesitated. Maybe once the song ended, she’d turn it down. Yes. That sounded like a plan.
He glanced over at Gus, who wasn’t the least bit bothered by the loud music. The dog was now stretched out, and if he could hear anything other than the music, he’d be willing to bet that Gus was snoring.
And then the song ended. There was a moment of silence. Simon breathed a sigh of relief. His fingers once more moved over the keyboard.
Then another song began to play. He’d swear this song was even louder than the prior one.
That was it. He got to his feet. They had to share this deck. She could at least be respectful of how loud she played her music. And here he thought living by the ocean would be peaceful with just the sound of the tide coming in and the squawking of the seagulls.
When Gus sat up, Simon said, “Stay. I’ll be back.”
He hustled down the deck steps and made his way to the other side of the deck. He climbed those steps and found his neighbor had her sliding door wide open.
He knocked. He didn’t see her, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the loud music.
“Hello,” he yelled. “Hello.” He knocked some more.
And then his neighbor stepped into sight. Her gaze met his, and she jumped. There was a glass in her hand that slipped from her grasp and landed on the floor with a crash.
Not taking her gaze off him, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. With a few swipes of her finger, the loud music stopped.
“If you don’t leave, I’m calling the sheriff.” She held up her phone, as though to prove the point.
He held up his hands. “Whoa. Wait. I was knocking on the door. I called out to you, but you must not have heard me over the music.”
She hesitated. “You’re my next door neighbor. Right?”
“Exactly.”
“So, what are you doing over here?”
“I came to ask you if you could turn down the music.”
“Oh.” A little color bloomed in her cheeks. “Sorry about that. I turned it up while I was vacuuming.”
He noticed she was in her bare feet, standing in the middle of a bunch of broken glass. He stepped toward her.
She sent him a wary look. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to clean up this broken glass so you don’t cut yourself.”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “I can do it.” She knelt down and started picking up the shards. “You don’t need to.”
He stepped into her kitchen and grabbed some paper towels from the counter. “But I want to. My mother taught me to help my neighbors.”
“Sounds like you have a great mother.”
He smiled. “She is a great person. By the way, my name’s Simon.”
“Well, hello, Simon. My name’s Jenna.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
And so, together, they worked on cleaning up the mess. After the larger pieces of glass were picked up, he wiped up the spilled water with some paper towels while she retrieved the vacuum.
When everything was cleaned up, he said, “Can I do anything else?”
She shook her head. “Sorry about the music. I’ll make sure to turn it down.” She held up a pair of noise-canceling headphones. “Problem solved.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He stepped outside and headed back to his place.
Gus met him at the top of the steps. He ran his hand over Gus’s head. “Hey, boy. Everything is good. Go back to sleep.”
He settled back in his deck chair and stared at his keyboard writer. The cursor blinked at him, but he wasn’t going to let it torment him this time.
His fingers rested on the keys as he searched for the first sentence. From there the words poured out of him. It was like the dam had broken, and the words came spilling out.
And then he heard something. His attention was drawn to the sweet-sounding voice. It was his neighbor again. She was singing a country song, but it wasn’t the lyrics that drew him in; it was Jenna’s voice.
There was no music—just her voice. She must have been wearing the noise-canceling headphones. He smiled.
And then he went back to his writing. From that point on, he wasn’t sure anything he wrote was any good. He was constantly distracted by her singing. Still, he kept writing. It felt good putting words on the screen. He would worry about whether the words were good enough at a later date.