The Neighbor Wars

by Jenna Gunn

  “Trisha!” says a bright voice as I enter the lobby. “It’s dark in here.”

  I freeze. If I thought I could calm down by walking to the lobby, I was wrong. Nathan stands just inside the front door wearing jeans, a work shirt, and a grin.

  “Nathan,” I say nervously. “I’m not open yet. I just forgot to lock the door.”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d come in anyway,” he says, smiling as though that was a good idea. “I missed you, y’know?”

  “Are your animals doing okay?” I ask him.

  “They are. And I am too, now that I’ve seen you,” he adds with a sigh, stepping closer to me.

  I don’t know why, but my entire body is on alert. He hasn’t said or done anything super alarming...but it still doesn’t feel right. He’s at my office before it opens, happy to see me after I’ve been gone for a single day. He barged right in. He’s acting like we never argued on the phone, like he never shouted at me.

  I don’t like it one bit.

  “So later on, do you - ” Nathan begins, but he falls silent without finishing his question. His expression darkens. “What the hell’s going on here?” His voice is low, cold.

  I look over my shoulder. Perry stands, his tall frame filling the the hallway behind me, holding Henrietta’s box.

  “Nathan Parker?” he asks from behind me.

  I’d be pretty okay with the floor swallowing me up.

  “What are you doing here with him?” Nathan bursts out. I flinch; he’s suddenly so loud. “In the dark? Before you open?”

  “He had an animal emergency, geez,” I say, raising my own voice. “Honestly, it’s none of your business.”

  “It’s my business if my girlfriend is alone with another man!” he screams.

  “Oh my good Lord, Nathan!” I yell back. “I’m not your girlfriend! We’ve been one date! And you. Are. CRAZY!”

  “Oh, I’m crazy?” he yells back.

  “Yeah! After this, I’m never talking to you again. You can get a different vet, too. Get out of my office, Nathan! Get lost!”

  His face contorts into an expression of pure rage; reflexively, I go to take a step back. He doesn’t look like the handsome, dashing man that took me out on a pretty bad dinner date. His face is so twisted and dark - he looks like a monster.

  Before I can step completely back, Nathan lunges toward me with lightning speed and grabs me by my upper arms, yanking me toward him until his warped, distorted face is inches from mine.

  “Nobody tells me to get lost!” he screams. I wince as spit flies out of his mouth. I try to bend my elbows, to get my hands up so I can push him away, but he pulls me against him and locks my neck in the crook of his elbow.

  This man is putting me in a headlock.

  I’m in a headlock in the lobby of my own office.

  It’s pretty painful, too.

  Over Nathan’s arm, my eyes dart to Perry; he sets Henrietta’s box down and comes rushing toward me, arms up like he’s about to punch Nathan’s lights out - but Nathan’s foot lashes out and catches Perry’s prosthetic leg.

  I scream as Perry buckles and tumbles forward. “Let me go!” I scream, writhing, clawing at Nathan’s arm.

  Nathan grabs both my wrists in one of his hands and presses them together so hard it hurts.

  “Shut up,” he growls, yanking me toward the door.

  “Get off me!” I scream.

  He pulls us outside and into the sunshine.

  19

  It happens in an instant.

  Trisha’s there, confronting a man a foot taller than her, and then she’s being dragged out the front door, her screams mingling with the absurdly cheery bell, while I scramble to get back up. I use Apple to push myself up.

  “Thanks, girl. Let’s go!”

  I run - actually run - through the lobby and shoulder open the door. My mind goes blank. All I can think is save, protect, fight.

  Outside, Nathan has his car door open, but Trisha’s somehow gotten out of the headlock and is kicking at him as he tries to push her into his car. He has both her wrists in his hand; his other comes up, and he reaches toward Trisha’s hair -

  I slam into him. He didn’t see me; he stumbles, losing his grip on Trisha. She tries to wriggle away, but Nathan reaches with his other hand and grabs a fistful of her shirt.

  “Let her go!” I yell. My blood is boiling. Behind me, I hear Apple growling, but Nathan’s parked next to me, and we’re in the narrow space between our two cars. If I can drag him out of here to where Apple has room and a clear shot -

  His punch comes from almost nowhere and connects with my jaw. It doesn’t hurt that much. This man is not used to fighting. He cries out as his fist hits me, stumbling as he shakes it.

  “Hurts when you punch someone,” I growl. “I should know.”

  I throw an elbow down on his outstretched arm; he yelps as he’s wrenched away from Trisha. She stumbles away.

  “Out of my way!” Nathan screams, coming at me with another punch.

  And just like that, I’m in slow motion. It’s just like basic training. Actually, it’s just like a fight I had once overseas…

  It’s a hot day. I’m on patrol. It’s a quiet area, not much happening. Orders are to keep an eye out for assailants, but the brass is always paranoid. Nothing around here but innocent families.

  He lurches at me from an alleyway, catches me off guard. Past him I see one of those families walk by, oblivious, smiling. Don’t want to alarm them. Don’t want to draw my gun.

  Unarmed combat it is.

  His first blow is a sloppy punch; I just have to lean a bit to the side for it to go straight over my right shoulder. My muscles react without my brain having to get involved.

  My left hand comes up and locks onto his forearm. With my right, I jab into his chest, slamming my open hand down on his wrist.

  He tries to yank his forearm out of my grasp; I let him. Because I know that second punch is coming.

  I lean the other way and push his punching hand away from me. He’s in an awkward position now, but it doesn’t register with him yet. That’s okay. He’s frenzied, going in real-time. I’m calm and living in slowmo.

  He’s about to lose.

  I push, slam his shoulder with my other hand. His eyes widen. I wrap my forearm around his. Pull. Push his shoulder.

  He bends double; his head comes dangerously close to the brick wall.

  “Let me go!” he screams, flailing with his other arm. With a lucky shot, he hits my elbow, throwing it off his shoulder, and is able to twist away.

  He lunges for my throat. I catch his arm and twist beneath it, redirecting him. He manages to wrench away before I can get a full arm lock on him.

  My hands pull up; my forearm blocks his next punch. And his next. And his next. He’s bad at this.

  I get inside his guard. Smack his elbow up. Wrap an arm around his back, push my other through his thigh, lower my center of gravity.

  “Stop!” he yells. “Wait!”

  I don’t listen. I stand. His whole body comes with me, tipping sideways.

  I pull up on his thigh. He flips and hits the ground shoulder-first. He doesn’t know how to land; I hear it dislocate. He yells in pain. His hand comes up; I push it away, grab his wrists, pull him further into the alley. I use my body weight to subdue him. Have to knock him out. I feel a lump in his pocket - a weapon. I pull my arm back and punch.

  He can’t fight me off. I’m a better fighter, and now I have the advantage. He manages to redirect a few of my blows, but I hit more often than not. He yells as a dog’s mouth clamps down on his arm, and a woman screams -

  Wait. This isn’t how it went. Dog? Where’d the dog come from? What woman is screaming?

  “PERRY!” Hands grab my shoulders, scrabble at the back of my shirt. Not his; a dog has him. I blink. I’m not in an alleyway. There are no brick walls. What’s happening?

  “Perry, stop!”

  It’s the woman. I blink again as Trisha pulls at me. The so
unds of wailing sirens fill my ears; numbly, I let Trisha help me up. Apple growls around Nathan’s sleeve as she holds his arm away.

  Nathan is unconscious.

  “Apple, stop,” I say wearily; she immediately lets him go and trots toward my car. That’s it - I’m between two cars, not in an alley.

  “Perry, are you all right?” Trisha asks.

  “I…” I don’t know how to answer her. I let her guide me toward the entrance of her office and set me down on the curb. My leg hurts so bad; I shouldn’t have lifted him.

  I start taking off my prosthetic to get some relief to my leg. I had a flashback. A violent one. I beat a man senseless.

  Sure, he was dangerous, but...the police are coming. Am I going to jail?

  Apple lays down on the curb next to me and licks the back of my hand over and over.

  That helps. I’m fighting off the flashback again. I’ve never had one that bad. I also haven’t been physically attacked since I was diagnosed, so that could be part of it. What should I do? Turn myself in?

  I fight to stay present. Apple’s constant licks help. I can barely take in the scene around me; I hear sirens, I see flashing lights. I see Trisha’s red hair bobbing in a crowd of blue. People with notepads. Police, obviously. Maybe an ambulance.

  Someone approaches me. A uniformed silhouette with a voice I can’t identify. They ask me what happened. I answer as best I can. I don’t know if any of my words make sense. I hear myself talking about Henrietta, about the vet’s office, about Trisha. I hear myself mention Nathan. I don’t know exactly what I say.

  Eventually, the silhouette drifts away. I don’t know when, or if I finished talking to them. I lean my head back. “Stay here,” I mumble out loud. Apple shifts and lays her body across my lap. I tangle my fingers in her soft fur. “Stay here.”

  I don’t know if I can.

  20

  “You’re okay,” Officer Bevens says gently, holding onto my elbow. He guides me to the squad car and lets me sit down on the hood. I glance over toward the ambulance sitting in the parking lot, its back doors swung open as an EMT pushes a gurney bearing Nathan’s form into it.

  “I’m fine,” I say as another EMT drapes a blanket over me - it’s Kelly Riddle, owner of a very friendly black Lab - but I push the blanket away. “It’s hot.”

  “You’re in shock, Trish,” Kelly says, repositioning the blanket. “Lay back, okay?”

  “I don’t want to.” But I let her ease me back.

  Bevens’ face appears above me. “Think you can answer some questions?”

  “Can you give her ten seconds, George?” Kelly says.

  “I’m fine,” I repeat with a sigh, speaking primarily to the blue sky. “If you want it, the footage for the security cam gets stored on the computer at reception. Door’s unlocked.”

  I see him point at someone out of my eyesight and jerk his thumb toward my office. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.

  I close my eyes. It happened so fast, and it’s all in flashes - Nathan yelling, Nathan grabbing, Nathan yanking. Grappling desperately as he put me in a headlock. Kicking at every soft spot I could find, clawing his arm, feeling my strength leave as I struggled to breathe, fighting to stay out of his car; a moment’s respite as he was pulled away, scrambling to get distance between us, brief panic as he clenched down on my scrubs - then real, actual relief when I broke free. Then Perry was there, fighting Nathan as calmly as I would fix a cup of coffee.

  And then I could tell he had a flashback.

  He started becoming more desperate and angry, until he was yelling something about innocent families; and then he just picked Nathan up and slammed him into the ground, which I’m sure he shouldn’t be doing on his prosthetic. I remember screaming as Nathan fell unconscious, his arm twisted at an awkward angle, and stepping in.

  I relay the story as best I can and hear Bevens’ pen scratching against paper. It only takes a few seconds; the whole thing was so short, there’s not much to tell. When I’m done, I sit up and watch Bevens click his pen and stick it back into his pocket.

  “Where’s Perry?” I ask. “Why isn’t he in the ambulance?”

  “Some cops are trying to talk to him,” Kelly replies.

  I stand up and peer over at the sidewalk right outside my office, where I left him when the police showed up. Perry sits on the concrete, his prosthetic discarded beside him, Apple lying in his lap. No one is near him. I toss the blanket behind me and begin walking over, ignoring Kelly’s protests; how could they leave him alone like this? Can’t they see he’s in distress?

  I walk toward him and kneel in front of him. His eyes are glazed over, unfocused. He’s muttering something under his breath while he pets Apple over and over.

  “Perry?” I ask quietly.

  With what looks like a great deal of effort, he turns to look at me, and his eyes meet mine. “Trisha?” he asks.

  I lean forward and grab his hand. “You okay? Your leg is off.”

  “Yeah, it happened overseas.” And then he gives me a half-smile.

  I stifle a laugh. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m trying to be,” he replies, his words soft and slightly slurred. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. “I need to stay here.”

  “On the sidewalk?” I ask, confused.

  “No...here. Now.” He gestures vaguely with one hand.

  I glance over my shoulder and beckon for Kelly; she hops out of the ambulance and jogs over. “This is Kelly,” I tell Perry.

  He looks over at her, frowning.

  “She’s an EMT. He had a flashback,” I tell her quietly.

  Immediately, she nods and kneels down with me. “Do you know how to ground yourself?”

  “Sort of,” he replies uncertainly. He looks guarded now; Kelly’s a stranger.

  I reach out and grab Perry’s hand. He jumps and looks at it; Apple lifts her head. “I’m here with you,” I tell him firmly.

  “Do you know where you are?” Kelly asks.

  “Of course I do,” he snaps.

  “Say it out loud.” She cocks her head as he stares at her with a deep frown. “It helps; trust me.”

  “I’m outside Trisha’s office,” he replies grumpily.

  I grin. He’s starting to sound like himself.

  “You’re safe,” Kelly tells him. “Say it.”

  “I’m safe.” He glances around. “I’m safe.”

  “You’re safe,” I say, squeezing his hand.

  He squeezes it back. “I’m outside Trisha’s office. I’m safe. Apple’s here,” he adds, putting his other hand in her fur. She slumps onto her side in his lap; he laughs a little and rubs her belly. “Good girl.”

  “Do you need anything?” Kelly asks. “Are you hydrated?”

  Perry blinks. He’s slowly coming back. “No, I’m okay. Thank you,” he adds as she gets to her feet, dusting off her pants. “For your help.”

  She smiles. “No problem.” She looks to me. “I’m guessing my dog’s checkup appointment tomorrow probably won’t happen.”

  “Probably not,” I admit.

  She shrugs. “Well, he’s probably fine. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  I nod as she walks off; Perry squeezes my hand. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I tell him. “I don’t feel comfortable with you driving, though, and...I really feel like I need to get out of here.”

  “The cops done?” he grunts.

  “Yeah, they’re leaving.” I look out into the parking lot. I can see Nathan on the gurney in the ambulance; I catch a glimpse of his hair when Kelly opens the doors to check on the other EMT inside. “Put your cyborg parts back on; I’m gonna go make sure they’re all set.”

  That gets a smile out of him, and I finally feel comfortable letting go of his hand and walking across the lot to Bevens’s partner, Terrence Fisher, a kid I’ve known for years.

  “Terry!” I call to him, and he winces as he turns around.

  “Don’t sa
y that too loud,” he mumbles, glancing away. “It’s Officer Fisher.”

  I ignore him. “Can you tell me if y’all are done here? I kinda wanna get home.”

  “Oh - oh, yeah. Um, there’s a chick in a cardboard box inside - ”

  “Yeah, I know. Did you get the security footage?”

  He nods. “Mr. George makes me do stuff when it comes to computers. I got it.”

  “Mr. George?” I ask. “Do you mean Officer Bevens?”

  He winces. “Yeah. Officer Bevens. Oh, um, I’m supposed to tell you that we’re probably gonna call you to the station at some point, and, um - ”

  “It’s okay, Terry. I know how this stuff goes.”

  He nods, not bothering to correct me on his name. Behind him, Bevens honks the horn of the squad car. “I gotta go, but - um - a tow truck is coming for the perp’s car, so you won’t have to worry about that.”

  I try not to grin at little Terry Fisher using big-boy terms like “perp”. Instead, I point to Nathan’s car. “That one?”

  “Yeah. So uh, you’re free to go, ma’am.”

  I have to crack a smile at that. Bevens honks again, punctuating it by leaning out of the car window and yelling out, “Terry, come on!”

  “Bye, Ms. Nash!”

  “Give Shadow some pets for me,” I call out as he turns and jogs to the squad car. I watch as he fumbles with the door before getting in; and then I turn and head back to Perry.

  “They gone?” he asks in a growl. He really does sound like himself again.

  “Yeah,” I say, glancing over my shoulder to watch the car drive off. The ambulance follows.

  He nods and gets shakily to his feet. “I need to get Henrietta.”

  I help him up. “I don’t really trust the tow truck guy to know which car to tow, so I’d better drive you home in yours.”

  “Okay,” he agrees; he hands me the keys and limps inside the office. I wait for him to emerge with Henrietta’s box in his hands before I lock the door.

  “Off we go.” I get into his unfamiliar car.