The Neighbor

by Joseph Souza

  She looked less glamorous than when I’d seen her at the restaurant earlier in the evening, all dolled up for a night on the town. She wore a gray wool cap and a long dungaree jacket. As soon as she saw me, she made her way over to where I sat. Fortunately, the alcohol had a calming effect on me, but in my head all I wanted to do was wrap my hands around her throat and throttle her.

  I’d seen friends destroyed by manipulative women like her. Bitter divorces involving alimony and custody fights. Fortunately, I’d never been the target of a vindictive girlfriend. There weren’t any domestic arrests or battered girlfriends in my past. I’d always been the good guy, the dude everyone wanted to party with and have a good time around. The girls I dated were not harlots, but nice girls. Like my mother. Like Leah.

  I seriously wanted to hurt this girl, which scared me. I told myself to stay calm and not do anything stupid. Feelings of unmitigated rage and hate had been utterly foreign to me until now. Fueled by my growing alcohol consumption, I needed a way to process these emotions before I did something I might regret.

  “Hey.” She smiled, and for a brief second I remembered why I’d been so attracted to her. Then I noticed her bruised cheek. Like the kind of bruise I gave to her the last time we made love. “You look good, Clay.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m drunk and look like shit.”

  “I’ve missed you.” She walked over and put her hands on my lap. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you tonight at that restaurant.”

  I remained perfectly still.

  “Your boyfriend give you that shiner?” I pointed toward her bruised face.

  “Cordell?” She laughed. “Hell no. And FYI, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I saw you kissing him at that restaurant.”

  “You were watching me?” She laughed. “Did that make you jealous, Clay Daniels? Did that make you desire me even more?”

  “Not in the least.” I felt confused. “Why did you say that Cordell was your boyfriend when he’s not?”

  “I wanted to make you jealous.” She pressed her hip into my knee. “Besides, Cordell has plenty of others to keep him busy.”

  “He likes to play around?”

  “Yeah, if sucking cock’s your thang.” She reached for my fly. “His daddy’s a big preacher in Mississippi, so he doesn’t want people to know.”

  “Cordell bats for the other side?” I laughed. “Who would have thunk?”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It’s not a scandal these days to be gay. Far from it.”

  “It is if you’re a basketball player with a Baptist minister for a daddy, who’s connected to some important politicians in the Deep South.”

  “Is this why you desperately needed to meet me? To tell me that your boyfriend’s in the closet.”

  “Someone else gave me this shiner. Like you, he gets all crazy whenever I try to break it off with him.”

  Did this other guy treat her like a sex slave too? I realized that I was not the only lover in her life and it pissed me off.

  “A black girl with a black eye. Quite an irony, isn’t it?”

  She stepped back from me in anger. “It’s obvious that I wasn’t screwing you for your wit.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A professor at my college.”

  “Jesus, a professor? You do the rough stuff with him too?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell. Let’s just say he happens to be the lucky guy who grades my exams.”

  “So he’s the one who beat you up?”

  “More or less the way you did.”

  She took notice of my aroused state and began to massage it through my pants. For a moment, under the spell of alcohol and the allure of her beauty, I briefly considered letting her seduce me. But at what cost? I thought of Leah and the twins sound asleep back at the hotel and so I pushed her away from me, and she fell back against the concrete floor.

  “Fucking asshole.”

  “How many times have I told you to leave me alone?”

  She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  “I told you that we can’t do this anymore. You and I are done.”

  “You wouldn’t have been with me if you were happy with that skank.”

  “That skank is my wife, and I mostly did you for the money,” I said, walking over to her. “Look, we made a mistake. We should have never hooked up in the first place.”

  “Fuck you.” She looked up at me from the concrete floor, hate filling every inch of her face. I thought she might leap up and punch me.

  “You played me by offering up that loan. You pocketed my six grand, now it’s time to move on.”

  “Get over yourself.” She stood, wiping away the tears on her sleeve. “I didn’t come here to mess around. I have something important to tell you.”

  “Then hurry up and say it because my wife and kids are waiting for me back at the hotel.”

  “How could you have married that pathetic scarecrow?”

  “Don’t you, of all people, make fun of my wife.” I made a threatening move toward her and she stepped back in fear.

  She laughed. “You going to hit me for real this time?”

  “Bet you’d like that.”

  “You’re all talk, faggot. And a total loser in bed.”

  “Get out of my sight.” I pointed at the door.

  “Forget you. We’re not done until I say we’re done.”

  “And how’s that?”

  “Because I’m pregnant with your child, Clay Daniels.”

  LEAH

  Thursday, October 22, 4:12 p.m.

  THE SOUND OF A WOMAN’S VOICE STARTLES ME. I OPEN MY EYES and, to my bewilderment, see Clarissa standing next to the bed. She glances around in stunned surprise before staring at me. Her open diary lies on the bed along with the empty bottle of wine. On the nightstand sits the key I’d used to enter her private world.

  “I can explain,” I say, pushing myself up to a sitting position.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh? You break in to my house, violate my privacy, and then you have the nerve to tell me that it’s not what I think. What kind of monster are you?”

  “What about you?” I say, a sense of righteousness filling me. “What kind of person goes snooping around into another person’s past for no apparent reason?”

  “You’re the one breaking in here and reading my diary.”

  “I didn’t break in. You left your door unlocked.”

  “It’s still unlawful entry.”

  “Tell me, Clarissa, what reason do you have for calling the FBI and running a check on me? What kind of person does that to their next-door neighbor, a neighbor whose only crime is that she tried to be friends with you?”

  “That’s why I was checking you out. So we could be friends. I’ve been burned in the past by my so-called friends.”

  “How dare you snoop into my childhood.”

  “How dare you break in to my home and read my diary and drink my wine.”

  “What you did is a breach of trust.”

  “You’re entirely missing the point,” Clarissa says, clearly exasperated.

  “Which is?”

  “You never would have known about it had you not snuck into my home in the first place. I have a right to privacy. I have the right to say or write anything I please.”

  I realize that she’s right and that I have no answer for this. My righteous indignation has clearly been trumped by her legalistic argument. My dam of tears bursts and I break down sobbing. My chest heaves uncontrollably until I find myself hyperventilating. Wine bubbles tickle my nose and make me sneezy. Will she call the authorities on me? File criminal charges? If she does, it’ll be the end for me in this town.

  “Take it easy, Leah.” She grabs some tissues off the dresser and hands them to me.

  “Are you going to report me to the police?”

  “I’m not
sure.” She sits down on the bed next to me. “Tell me the real reason you snuck in here and read my diary.”

  “I’ve been so bored and lonely since I moved here. I thought I was going crazy, and for whatever reason, you seemed to want nothing to do with me, no matter how hard I tried to befriend you.”

  “Oh, Leah.”

  “It confused me. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong or how I offended you. Then a crazy idea came to mind. I thought if I got to know more about you, then we could become friends.” I dab at the tears spilling down my cheeks. “That’s why I broke in here.”

  “You really got to know me all right.” She turns to me, hand gripping her diary. “Did you read all of it?”

  I nod in embarrassment, recalling the morning I lay under the bed while she pleasured herself with the white dildo.

  “It’s partly my fault.” She strokes my hand, which surprises me. “I suppose in hindsight I should have been nicer to you.”

  “I prayed every day that you would call and invite me over for coffee. I pictured us lunching together and sharing picnics with our families.”

  “Poor thing.”

  Her pity irritates me. “Poor me? How about poor you?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve read your diary, remember? I know the hellish things you’ve been going through with Russell.”

  “Yes, I can see how you’d think that.”

  “Now that you know my secret, Clarissa, don’t you think it’s time I know yours?”

  She mulls it over. “No. I’m not ready to disclose that just yet.”

  “But why?”

  “It’s a very personal issue.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, it’s not, but that’s the way it’s going to be for the time being.”

  “But we can still be friends, right?”

  She laughs. “Why wouldn’t we?”

  “I thought you’d hate me after learning about my past.”

  “I won’t lie to you. That shocked me when I heard about it.”

  “I was so young when it happened.”

  “You must have had your reasons.” She squeezes my hand. “I believe in second chances, Leah. I believe that people can change their lives for the better.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Was it your idea the other night to swap partners?”

  “No.” She looks away as if humiliated. “I hate the way Russell makes me sleep with others. But then I realized that I could lose my kids if I didn’t agree to his demands.”

  “He’ll reveal your secret. The one you don’t want to tell me.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why you refuse to report his abusive behavior to the police?”

  She thumbs a tear from the corner of her eye. “Does Clay know what you’ve done?”

  “He has no idea.”

  “Will you ever tell him?”

  “I hope I’ll never have reason to,” I say. “So will you stay with Russell?”

  “What other choice do I have?” She moves closer to me. “His behavior has been getting much worse as of late.”

  “Clarissa, you can’t go on like this. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know. It’s to the point where I’m scared for my life and the safety of the children.”

  “We both know that he’s somehow involved with those two college kids.”

  “There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to believe it.”

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  “You know I can.”

  “I found Mycah Jones and she’s alive and well.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “It’s no joke,” I say. “I drove over to the address you wrote down in your diary. I knocked on the door and discovered that she’s been there the entire time.”

  “But why?”

  “Your suspicions have been confirmed. Russell has been sleeping with her.”

  “Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. Russell could have been helping her with her class work. After all, she was one of his students.”

  I laugh at this. “Trust me, there’s no misunderstanding between those two.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “She told me as much. He struck her and she’s quite scared of him.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Yes, and she has the bruises to prove it. He preyed on her by abusing his role as a professor.”

  “Preyed on Mycah?” She laughs bitterly. “Please, Leah. How well do you know that girl?”

  “Not well. I talked to her only that once.”

  “She’s got a reputation as the most manipulative student on campus.”

  “Mycah’s scared and convinced that he killed Cordell.”

  “Of course she is. She’s a drama queen and pot stirrer. Russell certainly has a temper, but he’s no killer.”

  “You just admitted that he’s become more abusive to you.”

  “I know Russell better than anyone and I seriously doubt that he killed Cordell.”

  “How did you meet Russell, anyway?”

  “He was my professor.”

  “Just like Mycah.”

  “Yes, just like Mycah. But we were in love with each other.”

  “Was he married at the time?”

  “Yes.”

  I grip her hand for support. I feel important, like a true friend. It’s been a long time since anyone confided in me and made me feel like I was needed. We embrace and she sobs quietly against my shoulder.

  “I’m frightened, Leah.”

  “As am I. I think the three of us should go to the police and tell them what happened.”

  “No.” She stands, throwing my hand down. “The cops can never be involved in this.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not going to risk having my past come up in court and then watch as my life is destroyed and my children whisked away from me.”

  “You’d rather die than fight back?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll fight the way I know best.”

  Her response seems irrational and pigheaded. What is it that would warrant such a drastic reply? Without the police involved, what other options do we have? I think about my own history and suddenly understand what’s at stake. I’ve buried the memory so deeply into the recess of my mind that what I did feels like a distant dream. Yet it happened, I know it did, and its long shadow has colored everything I’ve done since. A therapist once told me that if I didn’t deal with the issue, the psychological ramifications would manifest in unforeseen and possibly dangerous ways.

  “I understand that you’re scared,” I say.

  “I don’t think you really do.”

  “We have to work together if you want to escape from his grasp.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “The three of us should sit down and formulate a plan.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think I can face that girl after what she’s done to me.”

  “We have no other choice, and she seems ready and willing to help us.”

  “If only Russell would drive his car off a cliff, then everything would be fine.” She laughs and I laugh with her.

  “I seriously doubt that he’s going to kill himself for your benefit, Clarissa.”

  “Then maybe there’s another way we can go about this.”

  “Oh?”

  “He threatened me the other night, Leah. He held me down on the bed with his hands around my neck. I honestly thought he was going to kill me.”

  “Oh my God. What set him off?”

  “It doesn’t take much to piss Russell off these days.” She lets go of my hands and picks up her diary. “I asked him to his face if he was seeing one of his students.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He told me to mind my own business.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I can’t take it anymore. I’m seriou
sly thinking about using a gun to protect myself and the kids.”

  “A gun? Now you’re talking like a crazy woman.”

  “Maybe to you, a privileged white woman living in the suburbs, it’s crazy talk. You don’t have to live with him day in and day out. What do you think will happen if I die and he gets custody of the kids?”

  “It can’t be all that bad. But whatever you do, Clarissa, I will support you.”

  “You’re the best friend ever, girl.” She walks over and fingers away a strand of my hair. “I feel so much closer to you now.”

  “I just pray you and your husband one day have the kind of marriage Clay and I have.”

  Clarissa laughs hysterically at this. “You think Clay’s any better than the rest of the dogs out there?”

  “Clay’s a devoted husband and father. He loves us dearly.”

  “Don’t kid yourself.” She laughs bitterly. “Every man will stray if presented with the right opportunity.”

  “No, he’s different than the others.”

  “Tell me this. How would you ever know if he was cheating on you?”

  “You saw how mad he got the other night when Russell proposed that swap.”

  “Seriously? That’s the basis you’re judging him on?”

  “Clay was furious when he got home. I thought he was going to explode.”

  She laughs as if I’m being naive. “I guess you’re a lucky girl, then.”

  “Yes, I most definitely am lucky.”

  “Some of us aren’t so.”

  “My daughter will be home shortly,” I say.

  “When can we pay Mycah a visit?”

  “How about tomorrow? Can you take the morning off?”

  “I’m the director of diversity. I can do whatever I like at that school.”

  “Can I ask you one other question, Clarissa?”

  “Of course.”

  “Can you see it in your heart to forgive me for what I’ve done?”

  “Leah, you inadvertently came to my rescue by sneaking in here and reading my diary. Now, I can’t condone such behavior, but for the first time in a while I feel like I have someone I can talk to and confide in.”

  “Like a real friend?”

  “Yes, like a real friend indeed.”

  LEAH

  Thursday, October 22, 5:17 p.m.

  I’M IN A DAZE, UNABLE TO DEAL WITH THE KIDS’ MESSY ISSUES. THERE’S so much that needs to be done around here that I can’t seem to function in any normal capacity. I’m an emotional wreck. My mind races frantically, trying to process everything that has happened recently.