Short Story: Neighbourhood Fragments 1-9

#1

He strolled on down the street. It was nearly a nice day. He heard some guy on the front lawn of someone else’s house say, “oooooooh, aaaaaaaahhh” and he thought, maybe he’d hit a sinkhole, stubbed his toe in a pothole – but no. That guy was just singing along to Elton John. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. So it was further on down the stroll when he saw another guy carrying a car door. He held it up against the side of his truck, sizing it up, then heaved it onto the back. A couple of doors down from that a guy and his ladyfriend were packing the car. “Last chance”, the man announced. “You can come with us if you want. We’re leaving right now. Leave a note for your partner…tell her you’ve gone on the road trip”. But no. There was a shake of the head and a laugh. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that. End of the road and the phone starts ringing. It’s some guy from America. He can only talk briefly.

# 2

He was talking to Simon. And then he mentioned another Simon. Just then another Simon wanders over – so he calls to him, brings him into the group. “Simon, meet Simon” he says, introducing the two Simons. “I know what you’re thinking”, says the new Simon. “Where can we get a brass razoo, a chicken casserole and a harmonium at this hour?” “If”, the other Simon says, “we all put our heads together we just might be able to solve this. Which is why I am leaving…” “Was it something I said”, the new Simon belts out as the old Simon heads off. “Yes!” he calls back over his shoulder. “Yes, it was”.

# 3

He didn’t think so much of the people next door. Not anymore. And they didn’t think much of him at all. Which is why he no longer thought so much of the people next door.

# 4

He goes in to create a makeshift park. There are no other spaces – and besides, he’s done this before. Front wheels up on the curb, plenty of room in the driveway next door, car out of the way and the chance, still, for pedestrians to get by. No drama. But this time there is drama. A guy on a bicycle, fluoro safety vest, several years of anger cresting his side – perhaps from the time he came second in that job at the library, or 400^th in the beauty contest. He screams out that, “you can’t park there!” Emphasis, it seems, on the “you”. But he parks there anyway. And just then a guy pushing a sack barrow across the street barks out, “you should have run him over”. And then a pause. Then, “silly old cunt”. “Well”, the man from the car says, “I guess one day someone will”. “What did you say?” Sack Barrow Guy screams. “What did you fuckin’ say?” Makeshift Man nervously repeats what he said. All about how someday someone probably will knock the silly cunt from his bike. This time he throws in a “fuck”. Actually, two. “Yeah”, pipes in the Sack Barrow Guy. “You got that right friend. You got that fucking right. My friend.” And he bellows such a huge laugh. It seemed, for a second, actually two, to fill up the valley.

#5

Man, that is one sweet, catchy tune that old guy is whistling…you can hear him almost a block away and he’s happy and he’s smiling to himself, sorta smirking but not in a smug way, just happy. And he’s whistling up that tune. And you walk by and say hi, you don’t usually do that – well sometimes you do, but in this case you definitely do because he’s got that tune whistling off his lips and the sun is glistening off those tin-can-in-the-gutter dreams and it seems like anything is possible in that split second as you pass each other in the street where you live on a great day, which is any day really but certainly today. But what was the name of that tune? What the hell was the name of that tune? It bugs you for a day.

Until the next day when you’re driving out of town and searching for a station. You stumble onto Warren G’s Regulate. Classic tune. And made funnier when you realise that’s what the old dude was whistling. A day earlier. One step ahead.

#6

One of the guys from The Phoenix Foundation walks past you in the street. You’ve got your headphones on and so you do the nod – and he points and guesses what you might be listening to, says, “Aldous Harding is it?” And you laugh and say, “yeah, Party!”

But actually you’re listening to Lewis Tennant’s podcast. At that very moment Lewis Tennant mentions you on his podcast. In an otherwise lovely chat with Murray Cammick. You make it home to get your bag before heading out into the world again. You’ve left the stereo on and when you get in the house it’s playing The Phoenix Foundation – something about giving up your dreams… You check your messages, have a quick look at your Facebook feed. First thing you notice is Lewis Tennant saying that he has a new podcast up. Underneath that someone is telling you to check out Aldous Harding. She is in fact amazing. You head back out into the world. You leave your headphones at home. Walk on. In silence…. It’s back past a café. And – you had already guessed it. They’re playing Joy Division.

#7

You’re stopped in the street. They want to pat the dog. It’s not unusual. You’re getting used to this. Part of being a dog-owner. Especially when the dog is a puppy. No problem. But these old geezers want the full story. Breed, age, name. Those parts not so unusual. But also, what are you feeding it? (Oh, and is it a girl or a boy?) And how long have you had it, like when did you take ownership exactly? And how many have you had previously? And any other pets in the house? And how far have you walked today? And as the sun-shower kicks in (for just a bit) the one with the wonky eye starts shouting about how the poor wee thing needs a coat. Oh, and where’s its raincoat, see? And where’s it’s coat? And did you forget it? Or don’t even have it yet? And just to show how thorough he really is on this – and several subjects – he starts shouting, “it’s raining! It’s raining!” And as he does, he points to the sky. Since you were probably starting to wonder where all this was coming from.

#8

The man down the road stops me to talk of his cancer – sore throat, blocked ears; three separate trips to the doctor: You’re fine. You’re not fine. Strep throat. Take a sick day. A few months on – it’s throat cancer; sorry. But he’s on the mend and he’s – massively – on the meds. He’s on some trial. Doesn’t know if he’s getting the placebo or the (real) good oil. But he’s back on food, even though it tastes like shit. And he’s not ashamed to talk about it. He’s got advice, sound advice in fact: get yourself checked. Get to the doctor. Get into the hospital system. Get yourself seen to with the slightest concern. Get your worry seen to. And I’m standing there with only the worry that the cat wants its food. So I make my excuse and head home. Sometimes the best chats are the ones you never planned for, the ones you never expected. It was a good day today. He thought so too. Every day above ground, as they say. Whoever said that…someone told me it was Lou Reed. But his idea of a ‘Perfect Day’ didn’t sound so flash. So, I’m not so sure about that. Better ask the doctor next week.

#9

I was listening to Pip Adam’s podcast. Because I like to listen to Pip Adam’s podcast. She has good guests. She gives good chat. She likes good books (and writes good books) and it’s a fun way to spend 40 minutes (or so). Particularly while walking. (I love podcasts best when I’m walking). The other day I was out walking with Pip Adam’s podcast (it was on my phone and in my ears – it’s not an actual person). And right when I got to Pip Adam’s house (which is not that far from my house) I had this thought, almost out loud, I said (but just to myself, just to be clear) wow, imagine if I bumped into Pip Adam right now while I had her voice in my head already. I smiled (to no one) and then kept walking. Before the end of the street, I bumped into…you guessed it…Pip Adam. I told her the story. She laughed and said that was a classic Aro Valley thing to have happen. She said she was sick of everyone and everything generally – and that is why she had bought three peanut slabs and a head of broccoli. We said goodbye and I carried on listening to her voice on her podcast in my ears and on my phone and via my headphones. And then the guest, Luke Buda, explained that he was listening to a previous episode of Pip Adam’s podcast while he was on his way to be recorded for that particular episode of Pip Adam’s podcast. (And how that was such an Aro Valley thing). And just as he finished saying that on Pip Adam’s podcast I looked up to see the real-life Luke Buda driving past and flicking me up the devil-horns the way he always does when he sees me (regardless of whichever podcast is on at that time).