On my feet in a second, I start to pace back and forth. “I did NOT imagine it! I saw it with my own two eyes! Gahhhh! Does no one care about our neighborhood anymore?”
Now she trots out the condescending tone. “Gloria, really, would someone horsing around―pardon the pun―in their backyard really hurt anyone?”
“I don’t know what they might be capable of. You didn’t see those shorts! They were short and tight and they showed, well, everything!”
“You mean like Speedos at the beach?”
Okay, that’s it. I give up. No one wants to listen and no one cares. “You know, I think I made a mistake coming here to talk to you.”
“No, I think you made a mistake when you climbed up to peek into their yard,” she points out.
Well, why doesn’t she just slap me in the face? “Well, when some kid goes missing and gets himself eaten or someone pulls up all the potted plants in the neighborhood, you’ll remember this.”
There’s that look again. “Kids disappearing and being eaten? What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“Never mind. I’m sorry I took up your time. I’ll just be going now.” I head for the door, then turn to look at her. “And by the way, I don’t know what’s wrong with your husband. I didn’t do a thing to him,” I spit out.
“I’ll be praying for you, Gloria,” she says sweetly. I’d like to wipe that smile right off her face.
It takes everything I have to stomp down to my car without screaming and yelling. It’s just a few blocks home, and when I get there, Russell’s just come in. I slam the door on my way into the house, and Russell looks up from his cup of coffee. “What in hell’s wrong with you?”
“You won’t believe this!” I recount the entire thing, and I see his face darken. “So you understand, I see. Finally.”
“What I understand is that you snooped around a neighbor’s fence and then had the nerve to go tell someone what you’d done.”
My words come out in a shriek. “Oh, god, not you too!”
He almost slams his coffee cup down on the counter and turns to glare at me. “Haven’t you ever wondered how you’d feel if someone were spying on you the way you spy on all of them?”
It takes everything I have not to stomp my foot in anger. “But I wouldn’t be doing things like that!”
There’s a smirk on his lips that I just want to slap off. “What if someone in the neighborhood came in here and started rooting around all over the house for your liquor?”
“What are you talking about?” I yell.
“Gloria, you know what that bible says: ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’”
That’s it. I’ve had it. Let the whole damn neighborhood go to hell. I can’t do anything about it, and no one cares but me. So there you go. It’s a cesspool of sin and degradation, and I’m the only one who’s looking out for everyone, the only one who’s willing to stand up to the filth. I think I’ll just go have myself a martini and to hell with all of them.
Tasha
The morning coffee is long gone and I’m fading pretty fast at one thirty the next afternoon when my inbox pings. I take one look and forward it to Davis.
In twenty minutes I get a message back: “I’ve got an interview Thursday.”
My friend Colby came through. He works at one of the hospitals, and I asked him to check on jobs for Davis. Even if Davis doesn’t get the job, we’ll have to take Colby to dinner in appreciation for his help. I send back a message: “Yay you!”
I come home to find soup and salad ready, flowers on the table, and a bottle of nice wine. Never expecting to find anything this wonderful, I smile all the way through dinner and on into the evening. We put some things together for the weekend and then watch a little TV with Davis in nothing but his halter, lying about on the floor while I sit on the sofa. Occasionally I get down in the floor with him and stroke his head or scratch behind his ears, but I spend most of my time on the sofa while he relaxes.
On Thursday, he comes home stoked because the interview went so well. I’m excited for him. This would not only be a good job, it would be a step up. By the next night, we’re both wiped out from the work week and the emotional toll his job search is taking.
But it’s almost Saturday. I’ve promised him we’ll go back to the group and have a good weekend, but that almost doesn’t happen because of the grocery store. As I’m wandering around there on Friday afternoon after work, looking for things to give us some variety on the table, I run almost smack dab into Cheryl Danvers, the preacher lady. We exchange pleasantries, and then, with a weird look on her face, she says, “I need to talk to you.”
“Uh, okay.” I glance around. There’s no one nearby, so I just say, “Can we talk here?”
She glances around too, and then she says, “You know someone’s been spying on you, right?”
Aha―I was right! Now to play it cool. “What makes you ask that?”
“Because I got a visit from someone in the neighborhood on Monday, telling me all about what they saw in your yard. Over your fence.” The churning that starts in my stomach must show on my face, but I say nothing. “I had to hear all the details.”
Not sure what to say, I just mumble, “I hope you didn’t believe what she said.”
“Doesn’t matter if I do or not. It’s none of my business, and certainly not my right to judge.” I feel my heartbeat start to calm. “What you do in your yard is your business. As long as you’re not exposing anyone else in the neighborhood to what goes on in your home, I fail to see why anyone should care.”
“Thank you. I mean, really. It’s just that, well, I don’t know how to―”
She shakes her head and gives me a warm, genuine smile. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. And I can’t give you specifics, but know that you’re not the only one in the neighborhood who has an unusual, um, hobby. There are several others too. You’re also not the only one she’s spied on. So don’t worry about the other neighbors.”
Relief makes my knees a little weak. “Oh, thank god. And thanks for telling me. She just, I don’t know why, but she―”
“It’s not just you.” She lays a soft hand on my arm and I feel myself calm even more. “She’s after anyone she sees as being somehow different from her. Of course, everyone in the neighborhood is different from her. She’s the only one having whiskey at eight o’clock in the morning.”
“So that WAS liquor I smelled on her!”
Cheryl nods. “Yep. She’s quite the drinker. I think I made her mad when I suggested that maybe she’d imagined what she thought she saw in your yard.”
I snort. “Yeah, I can’t imagine she was happy about that!”
“Not at all!” she laughs. “Very, very unhappy with me. But hey, no biggie.”
I draw in a big breath and sigh it out. “I feel like I owe you an explanation.”
“Honey, you don’t owe me anything. Just have a good, happy life. And by the way, I think she was lusting after your friend’s shorts.”
There’s no way to stop the laughter that rolls out of me. “Oh, is that right? I’ll have to be sure to tell him that! He’ll get a kick out of it!”
“You do that.” She smiles at me again. “It was good to see you, Tasha. If I can help you with anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks. Thanks very much. I’ll remember that. You have a good weekend,” I tell her as I spin my cart to leave.
“I will. You too. And next time you think she’s spying on you, just call out her name. That’ll shock the daylights out of her.”
“Will do!” I’m still laughing when I get to the checkout lane. I like that lady. She’s really nice. And so non-judgmental. That’s so rare.
So I was right. The nosy bitch was out there spying on us. And I don’t dare tell Davis. It’ll scare him to death. But I would love to tell him about the shorts.
This time, we all meet for lunch at a vegetarian place down in the heart of town. When I found out,
I considered not going, but I’m glad I’m here. The food is awesome and the ponies all seem to like it. The puppies, not so much. They want meat.
Before we leave, Tamika stands and grins as she looks around the group. “I’ve got a huge surprise for everyone when we get to the playground today.” That’s what they call it, and I think that’s a fitting name for it. “I think you’ll all be pleased.”
We pull up and there are a couple of big vans outside the gate, no markings, just parked there. I’m wondering what that’s about when I hear someone squeal, “Oh my god! This is so cool!” Davis takes one look at me and takes off jogging toward the gate, with me right on his heels.
As we step through the trees and into the clearing, he says, “Ohhhh! Wow! Look!” There are four men I’ve never seen before, and they’ve obviously pulled the precious cargo from the vans.
Carts!
Everyone is chattering and laughing as they look at the carts and touch them. As we draw closer, we can hear the conversations. It seems the men are very knowledgeable about the carts, and I wonder who they are and where they got them. Sweetie Pie is standing closest to us, and she turns to Davis. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“They are! They’re amazing! I can’t wait to try one out.” He turns to me. “Do I have a harness?”
Oh, god. He’s going to be so disappointed. But before I can answer, Dallas pipes up. “I’ve got one for Paint, and you guys aren’t so different in size. I’m sure we can loan it to you for awhile this afternoon, don’t you think, Paint?”
“Absolutely!” He claps Davis on the shoulder. “Glad to share. Do you want to go first?”
“No, no,” Davis answers with a shake of his head. “No, it’s your harness. I’ll wait. Besides, I’ve never done this before. I need to just watch for awhile, if that’s okay.”
“Good plan,” Dallas tells him and winks at me. “But you’ll catch on quick. We have a cart, but it’s just a small, homemade thing. This one is really, really nice. This’ll be fun!”
“Okay, everyone, dress out!” Tamika calls out, and we head to the bench to start getting ready. Davis chooses to wear his shorts again, but I watch Killer with interest. He’s stripped down to a men’s thong, and his pale skin is totally blanketed in freckles. Between his long, red hair and the freckles, he’s the perfect roan. While he’s gearing up, Tamika makes her way over to me. “Where on earth did you get that brown leather tack?”
“Ordered it. Want the info?” I grin back.
“Yes! I think the brown would really set off his coat, don’t you?” she asks, pointing to Killer.
“Oh, you know, you’re right! It really would. Just send me an email and remind me or I’ll forget.”
“I will. Thanks.” She makes her way back to her pony and I smile on the inside. I’m new and someone just asked me for information. The idea that I have something to contribute makes me feel more a part of the group. A sound behind me causes me to turn and there’s Trusty, all dressed out. I take a couple of minutes to get his bridle on and buckled, then help him get his mittens on. When he’s all decked out, I pat his shoulder and give him a scratch behind the ear, and he nickers softly.
We spend the afternoon watching ponies pull the carts, then Dallas and I help Trusty into Paint’s harness and we take a turn. I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s so much fun! The ground is only slightly uneven, and I enjoy the bumps and jostles that make it seem like a real horse is pulling a real cart. And he looks so good doing it too, those well-formed muscles flexing and straining. What I’d give to have a cart and a place to use it.
At the end of the afternoon, we thank the men, members of a group from the next town over, and help them load the carts back into the vans. When they’re all gone and the ponies have shed their gear and gone back to their human personas, I timidly come out with, “Can I ask something?”
Everyone turns to stare at me and Tamika says, “Sure!”
“So do we have access to this property during the week? I mean, as individuals?”
“Well, yeah! If you wanted to come here and do something, that would be fine.”
“And we have the little stable over there,” I say, pointing to the sweet little building.
“Yeah.”
“So, what if we all chipped in and bought one cart. We could set up a spreadsheet to share, and if we wanted to come and use it, we could put down when we wanted to come and for how long. Then we’d know if someone was here using it. If there was a conflict, we could contact the other person and see if we could work out something.” I stop and notice a couple of people nodding. “I mean, I don’t have a place to keep a cart or to work with one, for that matter, but if we did this, everyone would have access to one, and then we’d have it when we meet too.” By the time I finish, even more people are nodding along with me.
Ellen, the trainer with the female pony, chimes up. “You know, I think that’s an excellent idea. I’d be glad to chip in. Does anyone know what one of those things costs?”
“Actually,” a trainer named Greg says, “I saw plans for one on the internet. I think it might cost, oh, maybe a hundred or so to put it together. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. How many of us would be willing to chip in?” To my surprise, about fifteen people raise their hands. “Okay, this is more than doable. And it can be disassembled to store, so it wouldn’t take up much room. I’m pretty good with that kind of stuff. Do you guys want me to build one?”
Tamika grins widely. “Sure! That would be great! And don’t factor yourself into the cost of the cart. If you build it, you shouldn’t have to pay.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. Besides, if it’s not too hard and doesn’t cost too much, maybe I’ll build two. Then we could have races!”
“That would be awesome!” I hear Paint say, and Dallas is nodding in agreement.
“Good. Then it’s settled. Tasha, thanks for that idea. We’ll have a lot of fun with that,” Tamika throws my way.
As we pull out of the drive a few minutes later, Davis lays a hand on my thigh. “Tasha, thank you for all of this, for the time you put in, for the money you’ve spent, for the way you seem to enjoy it.”
“I do. And I especially enjoy doing it with you.”
So softly I can barely hear him, he says, “No one knows what it’s like to feel like I fit in after all these years. It’s just amazing.”
I pat his hand. “No, you’re amazing.” I wonder if I should, then decide to go for it. “Davis?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m so happy with you.”
“Good. I’m glad you’re pleased with me,” he says with that gentle smile.
“No, no, no. I mean I’m happy with you. As opposed to without you. I’m happy being with you.”
“Oh! Well, I’m happy with you too.” There’s a little hitch in his voice when he adds, “I’ve never felt loved like this before.”
If I can make him feel that way, well, I’ve succeeded in life. For some reason, making him happy makes me happier than I’ve ever been before.
“Tash!”
It’s three forty-five in the afternoon. I’ll get off in forty-five minutes, so I can’t imagine why he’s calling me now. “Yeah?”
At first, I think he’s upset about something from the tone in his voice, but I realize it’s just excitement when he blurts out, “Tash, I GOT THE JOB!”
“Oh my god, Davis! That’s wonderful!”
“And you’re not going to believe this. Guess who my boss is.”
Now I don’t know what to say. “Who?”
“Dallas!”
“No shit?”
“No shit! Isn’t that awesome?”
“It is! Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks! I’ll see you in a little while. I’m sorry I bothered you, but I just had to tell you.”
“You didn’t bother me, sweetie. I’m so thrilled for you! I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
“Yes! See you in a bit. Love you.”
/> I smile. “Love you too.” This calls for a great big coconut cake. I’ll pick it up on the way home.
8
Gloria
I’ve just had enough. It’s time to face this business head on. My second mai tai is almost down and once I’ve finished it, I’m going right over there to confront them. Nobody else seems to care, so if I’m the only one, I guess it’ll have to be me.
What does it matter who sees me? I just march right down the sidewalk and head down to that house. Three thirty-three. When I reach the end of the walk, I almost run away, but then I remember what I saw and how that might affect some poor, innocent soul who ran into whatever deviance they’re practicing here. I ring the doorbell and that Tasha woman comes to the door. “Can I help you, Gloria?”
“Yes! I need to talk to you right now. It can’t wait.” I don’t think she wants to come out, but I just stand there.
“Well, okay.”
She steps out onto the porch and I’m just floored―how rude! “Aren’t you going to invite me in to sit down and talk?”
“Actually, I’d like to, but we’re just sitting down to eat dinner, so I really need to go. What can I help you with?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something that I find very disturbing. Some behavior that I find very disturbing.”
The way she’s posturing sets me on edge when she says, “Oh? And what’s that?”
“We have some deviates among us in this neighborhood,” I tell her point blank.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s so. Some of them are doing nasty stuff, like having lots of people over to do things with, and doing dirty things in front of their windows.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she says. Now there’s a tone in her voice that I’m finding extremely irritating.
“Yes, really. And some of them are doing silly things, like,” I say, hesitating dramatically, “acting like animals.”
“And you’d know this how?” she asks, then folds her arms across her chest. She’s not even embarrassed about their behavior! How brazen can people be?
Tasha and Davis at 333 Harper's Cove Page 7
