The Neighbor from Hell

my first creative endeavor on ATS.
Here's the introduction. I hope to get in another entry, to set up the character. Then, I will welcome all additions.

The Neighbor from Hell

We finally found a house. After weeks of looking at houses that were too big, too small, too old, too expensive or too “handyman”, we found a house that fit our needs.
The house had a get layout. It had three bedrooms, two baths, a finished basement and a large living room. The kitchen wasn’t great, but who wants to live in the kitchen anyway.
The yard needed work, but that was a plus since I could make the garden I wanted. There was a small, patio, too, for sunbathing. The front of the house had some shrubby things that needed to go, too. With the large locust tree in front, the house would be cool and I could try my hand a shade gardening.

It was fall when we finally moved in.
We began to meet our neighbors. The lady across the street came over with a loaf of banana bread. The old man three doors down stopped by when I dug out some scraggly bushes from the front yard. Others stopped to chat as I planted bulbs or watered in my transplants.
Everyone seemed nice. No one seemed overbearing or overly eccentric. This was my idea of a nice, quiet, suburban neighborhood!
That winter we had a blizzard with over a foot of snow. My husband and I had no snow blower and he struggled to clean off the drive and sidewalk. Just when I thought he’d never get ahead of the accumulating snow, our next door neighbor came over with his snow blower. What a lifesaver we thought.

That was how we met our neighbor, Pete. He was a balding, portly man with a slight limp. He had the facial colorings of a man with high blood pressure. He said he was a widow and retired from the CIA. He lived with his younger sister, Agnes, who was a spinster. She was quite a bit younger than he and plump. We got the impression from him something was not right with her.

From time to time, he’d see us outside and speak with us. He had little good to say about any of the neighbors, but we chalked that up to his age and prior work. He seemed to know everything about just about everything.
If you said you had an interest in herbs and natural healing, he would know some people who sold medicinal herbs and had many books on the subject. He knew all the city inspectors. He was friends with the former Mayor.
We saw very little of Agnes. We were told she was in poor health. But, when we did see her, she appeared quite healthy.

They both said they were dog lovers and greatly admired our boxer. They would call Meagan over to the fence and try to pet her. I admonished them not to give her treats, but they would try to sneak snacks to her when they thought we weren’t looking.

Quite frankly, my neighbors, especially Pete, were beginning to make me nervous. It was just a little nagging in the back of my mind. But, I tend to trust those little twinges.
My husband and I began to notice little things about the house that was odd. All the windows in the front and side of the house were covered with what looked like Styrofoam so no light could get in.
We counted at least half a dozen lights on the front and side of the house facing us. The front of the garage and the side facing the other neighbor had at least another half dozen. Some of these appeared to be motion detectors. Some nights, they would have them all lit. It would be bright enough to read outside. Or, perhaps bright enough to be seen in space. These lights began to be an annoyance in the middle of the night that first summer. We slept with our windows open and would be awakened several times during the night. Eventually, we had to cover our two bedroom windows, but I am getting ahead of myself in this story.
Another odd thing was the many, many signs in the windows and on the doors saying Beware of Dog—they had no dog---No Trespassing, this means you!!! and This Property is under 24 Hour Surveillance. Some of the windows also had little red flashing lights, as if they were cameras. My husband and I would joke they were little signals for the aliens to come and get them.





ED: Please feel free to add quirks to Pete and Agnes. I still have more evilness to add, but would love your input

[edit on 16-1-2005 by DontTreadOnMe]

Pete would cut the grass about once a month. And, it was always like a great chore for him. He’d pull out the lawnmower and let it run on the driveway between our house for several minutes. He’d tie a rag around the handle to keep it going. Then he’d rev it a bit and it would stall out. He’d get all red in the face. The lawnmower went back in the garage. Lo and behold, another lawnmower. Pete would go through the same routine with the second mower.
Of course, these mowers would be sitting just about under our open window, so we knew—and he knew we knew—just what was going on.
I finally decided this must be his attempt to show his sister his displeasure.
Pete seemed to hate most form of chores around the house. Bagged garbage got lobbed out the door to sit there for hours. From the driveway, it was thrown into the garage where it must have sat for weeks. Maybe every month or two, the garbage ended up on the curb for pick-up. We always knew this was happening. About eleven in the evening, when we were already half asleep, the lights would go on and all manner of banging and dropping would start. It seemed he wanted to go out of his way to make the most noise he could when taking the trash to the curb.

Pete and Agnes loved to feed the birds, too. Out on the driveway would sit cheese corn, hunks of bread, potato chips, popcorn and other human fast food. I guess that was the way they got rid of leftovers. Not a morsel of bird seed was ever offered.

One day my husband, Jack, was cutting the grass. Pete had come up behind him quietly. Suddenly, Pete shouts out to my husband. He asked my husband if he wanted to go the local hardware with him. Mind you, Pete had no car as his sister was out somewhere. In effect, he wanted Jack to drop everything to take him shopping. No please and thank you, just, “Let’s go!”
Jack told him, “I don’t think so. I’m kinda busy here, can’t you see?”
We thought nothing of it but we were to find out it’s not good to say no to Pete.

My husband and I were quietly watching television one summer evening when I heard a noise so loud I almost jumped out of my skin. We raced to the window in time to see our ‘dear’ neighbors backing out of the driveway. Now, you may be thinking they had installed one of those little beeper things people have to warn of vehicles backing up. But no, this was a very loud beep-beep-beep that would bounce off the houses and almost wake the dead. We always knew when they were leaving. People halfway down the street knew when they were leaving. And sometimes, he would back the car out partially and sit there for several minutes waiting for his sister to come out of the house.
My patience was beginning to wear thin and my blood pressure was beginning to rise.
Just when I thought I’d had enough, the beep-beep-beep would stop. A few weeks later, it would start up again. The degenerate must have had a switch on the damn thing and was truly trying to annoy us.
I had no idea anything this loud could be bought and installed on a passenger car. This was no noise installed on commercial vehicles to alert nearby people that it is backing up.
This noise would wake you from a sound sleep.
It scared the dog. It got to the point where she would hear their car doors slam and take off for the other side of the house to avoid the loudness some.

When I came home from work today, I was greeted by another of Pete’s treats for the birds and squirrels: half of a cantaloupe. Sitting in the July sun all day. I simply can’t imagine why anyone would throw something like that onto their front lawn. It’s attracting flies and hornets, but no other life forms I can see.
After the shopping incident, Pete stopped talking to us. That was fine because after the beep-beep-beep at all hours of the day and night, we weren’t feeling too friendly toward our neighbors. It seems that because my husband wouldn’t take Pete shopping, we were now the enemy.

One early Saturday morning that August, I was trying to get back to sleep. It was one of those warm, muggy mornings where the smallest disturbance wakes you and robs you of those precious minutes of rest. I had just dozed off again, I think, when suddenly, I am up and out of bed. Pete backed his car out of the garage and sat right next to the bedroom window, his car window rolled down and the radio blasting some rock tune. I doubt Pete is the type to listen to rock music. He just wanted to roust us at 4:30 a.m.
There would be other incidents with blaring music, but never again in the early dawn hours.

It’s been quiet around the house for the last few days. We know it can’t last, and we’re right.
Pete and Agnes have a big tree right behind the house. It’s braches brush the shingles on the roof. Somehow, Pete must have figured that the branches would ruin the roof. He had some tree-trimmers out.
They trimmed and trimmed that poor old tree. It is now the saddest looking tree you have ever seen. It has too many feet of bare trunk compared to the tree top. What were they thinking? That tree will never look normal and it surely won’t touch any roof again. It looks a s strange now as the rest of their property.
The trimmers left some wood shaving on the neighbors drive. So, what does our dear neighbor do? After dark, he takes his garden hose and hoses all the wood shavings onto our lawn. What?!?!?? This man would test the patience of Job.

I put a ceramic planter on the concrete half-wall on our porch. It ends up on the ground. I blame Pete.
Flowers are decapitated in the front garden. I blame Pete.
Camera flashes go off now and then after dark. We can never imagine what the weirdo is taking pictures of, maybe it’s some sort of alien beacon.
The mailman asks me what’s wrong with the people next door. I sigh and tell he he’s lucky he only delivers their mail.

We are getting good and disgusted with Pete’s behavior. He never does enough to have us call the police or the city for violations. We feel like he does these bizarre things intentionally.


[edit on 26-2-2005 by DontTreadOnMe]

We started to become seriously nervous for our personal safety, due to the fact that our neighbor's behaviour was getting increasingly more strange and bizzarre by the day.

Not knowing what was causing the behavior, especially Pete's, and we were both more than a little uncomfortable, to say the least to even contemplate the idea of going over there and confronting them face to face about it. After all, awkwardness aside, he really had done nothing to directly threaten us, so we also felt that it was not our place to be busybodies and go sticking our noses into the business of our neighbors.

It was possible that our imaginations were just becomming overactive, and we had been spending too much time on ATS, and well.....we tried to justify our concerns to ourselves that way.

But, no matter how we looked at the situation, especially when the mailman and others were noticing something very odd about our neighbors, we had to face the reality that we were living in some kind of neighborhood that was like no other.

If we were going to continue to live here, and we both resented the very idea of feeling forced out of our home because of the behaviour of our next door neighbors, we were going to have to do something about the situation, and soon.

But what exactly?

Well, while we were procrastinating on making some sort of subtle, yet effective move, all the while the yard and house next door becoming more eerie each day, I remembered something that we had known from the time we met them, but in the midst of the strange goings on and behavior towards us, I at least had completely forgotten about until now.

Of course! Pete used to be in the CIA! That explained a lot. We had no hands on knowledge of what life in the CIA must be like, but, as we both have always shared a sort of dark, compelling interest in such things, we have read quite a bit about the subject of our government having such a branch, and others that are even secretive, that it seemed as if we had maybe just a tiny bit more understanding of the whole thing than your average Joe.

So, if we could believe even a portion of what we have read and heard about the agency, it would make perfect sense that any employee of the CIA, either past or present, must have had a real psychological number done on them.

I mean after all, it is my belief that people start out pretty much as human beings, complete with thoughts, feelings and a wide range of emotions. But when they take a job that is not only extremely high risk to themselves, but where they are ordered to perform immoral, inhumane and often degrading and humiliating acts against their fellow man - all in the name of serving their country and their wallet, the chances of them integrating back into normal society at all I would think are not very good. The chances of them resuming a "normal" life afterward, (if there IS an afterward for them), must be nothing short of a miracle.

But assuming that such person has nerves of steel, and successfully resumes civilian life, he or she can't possibly go on for too long without being able to talk about their experiences with another person. Yet, that cannot be allowed, at least not in much detail, due to the very secretive nature of the work. Doing so, would jeopardize the individual himself, jeopardize "National Security", and/or jeopardize the government's desperate attempts to lull the public into believing in them.

After mulling all of that over, I suddenly was no longer afraid of Pete, nor annoyed by his bizzare and often rude behavior toward us, but felt very, very sorry for the man.

After all, a person like myself, could not even begin to imagine what horrors the poor man must be re-living over and over again in his mind, with not a soul to share it with, other than Agnes. And she, also shrouded in mystery, gave off the feeling that although she physically appeared healthy and all, had never been quite right upstairs, probably from birth. (And who or what exactly were her birth parents?) But this is hardly the time to be worrying about that!

I turned to my husband, and said, "Why don't we do the kind thing for Pete, rather than something that could push him over the edge, just in the interest of our own comfort?" Jack looked at me, astonished at my change of heart, and said, "I think you are realizing the same thing I have been lately. What we need to do, is to very subtly get him to a very trustworthy, private psychiatrist, or get the doctor to him. One or the other."

[edit on 2/27/2005 by CyberKat]

[edit on 2/27/2005 by CyberKat]

"I agree", I said. "But who, and how?" Well, Jack reminded me of his old childhood friend with whom he had gone on to college with who had eventually become quite a successful Psychiatrist. He was a long time friend, trustworthy, and had an uncanny ability to convince even the most ornary of his patients that they needed help when they really did.

Jimmy was perfect! I looked over next door, and Pete was sitting on his delapetated porch swing with a scowl on his face, swinging slowly back and forth. Jack would go inside and call his old friend right away.

A moment later, he came back out and announced that Jimmy would be right over, and he wouldn't mention a word to Pete that we ever had anything to do with his appearance on the scene. Jimmy would then take it from there.

So, you can imagine how utterly flabberghasted and frightened beyond belief we were, when moments later, Jimmy pulled up in his Lincoln Town car, jumped out along with two very large, armed what appeared to be some sort of militants - one on either side of him, and before we knew what was happening, they had us both inside the vehicle, our mouths taped shut, and our arms and legs cuffed to a metal bar inside the Town car.

As it pulled away, I sat up just enough to get a glimpse of Pete staring at us with a sneer on his face.

[edit on 2/27/2005 by CyberKat]

My brain was reeling! How could this be? I wanted to pinch myself, but of course my hands were not free. Jimmy was our dear friend, someone we had known for years. How could he be involved with the evil Pete? I couldn't even comprehend that they knew each other.

This is something out of 24 or Alias, not something that happens in my normally quiet suburban neighborhood.
Jack and I exchanged worried glances. By his eyes, I knew he shared my fears.
And, the mere fact that we had NOT been blindfolded was either very good news...or very bad news. I told myself we had not been drugged or roughed up much and that athings could be worse.

The car headed north on the interstate and we were soon away from the suburbs into the more rural parts of our state. Well, at least we hadn't crossed state lines or entered Canada. The men in the front didn't speak or glance back at us.
I wanted to shout to Jimmy, to ask him why WE were being taken by force from our homes. Surely there was a simple explanation. We could still be home before dinner.

I did remember that my new cell phone with GPS was in my pocket. But, it wasn't turned on and none of our friends knew we were missing. Fat lot of good it will do us, I thought. Still, if I can turn it on....

After about 45 minutes, we pulled off the freeway. Of course, I missed the sign when we exited and still didn't know where we were. Jack was starting to lot a little disoriented. I remembered his hypoglycemia and knew he was in need of a snack quickly. It was past lunch and the missed meal and this unneeded stress would soon take their toll on my dear husband.

As we pulled up to the light at the top of the ramp, I remembered Jack and I had made plans to go to dinner with my sister and her husband. Would they worry when we didn't show? Jack was punctual to a fault and we never cancelled at the last minute.

[edit on 27-2-2005 by DontTreadOnMe]

A few moments later, I felt the car slowing down, and making a sharp left, into what felt like a driveway, or maybe a parking lot then coming to a full stop.

Jimmy got out of his seat, and rather sheepishly came over to us, released us from our restraints, untaped our mouths, and began his incredible explanation, which I wasn't sure I fully believed him after all that had taken place in such a short period of time.

He said that he felt just awful for what he had done to us, so abruptly and especially knowing how we had trusted him. He insisted that he was still the same Jimmy that we had known well, and that we could still now and always trust him with anything. He also added that at the moment, we had no choice.

That remark was rather chilling, but, he was also correct on that one. We knew that Jimmy had been very successful in his career, however, we hadn't been following it all that closely.

He told us that if we had called a couple of days ago, he would really have been in a spot, because he had also become involved with the CIA, was a very well paid government phychiatrist to the other members who worked in the field. Of course, he wouldn't have been able to tell us that while he was still employed by the U.S. government. No one can safely say that they are currently working for the CIA!

But, he was one of the lucky ones. He had already had a lot of experience in the mental health field prior to going in. That was why he was so good at dealing with the mentally ill. Helping those CIA agents who were walking a tight-rope every second of every day, was really a challenge, and it also saddened him so much, that he had put in his notice a just a month before Jack called him earlier today.

And what a co-incidence that Jack had called, and called for the reason that he had. As Jimmy was carrying on with his seemingly very sincere story, I was wondering the whole time, 'Why did you take us so rudely from our home, when we weren't the ones who were mentally unstable?' At least not until now!

I then tuned back in to what he was saying, and he was pulling out a box of crackers and giving it to Jack. "Not much, I'm afraid, (knowing that he had hypoglycemia) but I hope it will do until we get you over to your dinner date with your family. Apparently, while I had been drifting off in my own thoughts and questions, Jack and Jimmy had made up, the full explanation (which I had obviously missed the rest of) apparently had been completely accepted by Jack. As a matter of fact, Jack seemed to be almost grateful to Jimmy for.....I'm not sure what.

I tried to break into the conversation, still rather indignant at the predicament we had been put in, but Jack and Jimmy were so busy having their growingly animatedd conversation, that I was all but forgotten. What I did pick up out of bit and pieces I picked up from what they were saying, was something to the effect that he had done what he had to do in order to remove us from immenent harm, that was much greater than we could ever have expected.

I was now growing more curious than angry. But as I tried once again to find out the details that seemed to have completely have Jack feeling quite at ease, the car pulled over, right across the street from the house we were to have dinner at.

Jimmy & Jack shook hands, said they would talk more later. Jimmy then gave me a quick hug, promising that Jack would fill me in right after dinner. I glanced at Jack, and he was nodding in agreement. We got out of the car and walked up the drive to the front door, looking as if nothing at all had happened out of the ordinary.

I was by then just bursting with curiosity. But, know better than to bring it up until we were alone. I could tell that Jack felt the same way. I had a feeling that we would ruch through dinner and the small talk much faster than usual.

As we approached our friends' front door, I saw our car in the drive on the other side of the house. "What the....how did our car get here before us." Jack told me that another associate of Jimmy's had followed us and parked it while we were otherwise occupied.
I had wondered for a moment how we would get home.
This was turning into a very strang day indeed and I could barely keep up with all the feelings thundering through my head. I hoped our friends had some Advil handy.

We go to the front door. Jack had to ring the bell as my hands were shaking. I didn't know how we could pretend that things were normal.
Damn that Jimmy, always one for the dramatic, and this time he had gone too far. I wanted nothing more than to get in our car and head home.

Somehow, we were in the house and greeting our friends Tracey and Bill. I had gone to school with Tracey and we had remained friends. We were always sharing stories and she and Bill both knew about Pete and Agnes.
I didn't know if our current story should be discussed over dinner. Gratefully, Jack didn't bring up our strange journey to our friends.
We enjoyed a fabulous feast of short ribs, fresh asparagus, new potatoes with pie a;a mode for dessert. The good meal and warm friendship calmed me. After the adreline rush earlier in the day, the meal left me drained.
Tracey must had seen how tired we both looked. She offered to put us up in their guest room for the night. We gratefuly accepted and were asleep before our heads hit the pillow.

We left early the next morning, eager to get home to the dog. She had food and water and a place to do her business,but I was eager to see that she was safe. We promised to have our friends over the next weekend. By then, I hoped to have quite a story for them.
As we got onto the interstate, I began questioning Jack about the strange events of the previous day.
Jack explained to me that Jimmy knew Pete, at least by reputation. Pete had apparently been making noise about us over at his old employers! And they weren't very happy about his behavior.

As the miles rushed by, I began to wonder more and more who our neighbors really were and if we were in danger.

Although this whole thing was becomming more and more unnerving, I couldn't help but feel a curiously chilling feeling that we were maybe inadvertantly being drawn into something sinister. I wasn't sure how much I really liked that at all. And, "Why?" I asked Jack, "would he be complaining to the CIA about us? and even so, why would they care. We have never had any affiliation with them what so ever? We are law abibing citizens, we pay our taxes, etc..., so why should they be unhappy or happy or anything in between, about anything concerning us?"

Well, Jack told me that he didn't completely understand, but that apparently, the CIA, as well as other shadowy government agiencies keep a lot better track of each and every one of us than we would ever think that they would have the manpower to do. He said that it's not the fact that it's us that he's making noise about, but more that when a person retires from such a job, they are to lay low, be quietly polite and draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

NOT, having all sorts of bright lights going on and off and playing loud music at all hours of the night. Not asking the neighbor for a ride, then making obnoxious retalliations like a small child would. Jack says that Jimmy told him that since Pete worked for them, obviously he would be under much heavier surviellence than the average person who is not even a troublemaker.

However, due to his bizzare behavior, the higher ups in the CIA don't know exactly how much, if anything he has told us of secret government business. Jimmy said that they have tried to question him, and warn him that his behavior is not going to get him anwhere he wants to be. But, he has just been sarcastic, irrational, and they feel quite a danger to the current members of the agency, if something doesn't get done about him, and possibly anyone that they think he could have talked to.

And, due to the fact that we are his closest physical neighbors, and the ones he seems to associate with the most, we apparently are bordering on being removed along with him, should they have to remove him.

"Remove?" I shuddered? "That sounds pretty ominous. They don't want to kill us, do they? Just because we bought the house next door to him?"

Jack assured me that it would be nothing like that, Jimmy had assured him of that. He had also said that it was, although he was sure it didn't seem that way to us right now, excellent timing when we called him asking for his Psychiatric opinion, and maybe help for our neighbor. The U.S. government has as of yesterday, hired Jimmy as Pete's personal Pyschiatrist. Although, Pete won't know it at first.

Jimmy will have to find a sneaky way to get his foot in the door. Anyway, Jack said that he had told me all he knew, and that after our innitial fright (an understatement), we ought to just file it away as an unusual, very unusual experience for the both of us.

I guess I had gone into some sort of a trance, listening to Jack tell the whole story, the best he knew, and it had seemed so surreal. I suddenly realized that we had been sitting in our parked car in our own driveway for, I don't know! But, is was getting dark.

"Come on in the house, now", said Jack. "It's been exhausting for both of us, and look (pointing towards Jack and Agnes's house), for the first time, the lights are all out, the yard even seems to be somewhat less bizarre looking, and all seems much more peaceful around hre than it has in a long time. Lets go in and get some rest."

"Wonderful idea", I said (wondering if things really would get back to normal - I mean normal for other people). I certainly hoped so, and was too tired to think much past that.

We opened the door and Meagan was there to greet us. She has the sweetest disposition of any dog I have ever seen. We let her out to check out her yard. She had been cooped up overnight and was patrolling the yard, glad to be outdoors.

I turned on the coffeepot and got out the makings for French toast, one of our favorites. It was so good to be in our own home, eating comfort food for breakfast.
I still couldn't believe the events of the last hour. As Jack and I talked, we agreed that we were in no danger. Pete may not have talked to his old boss about what he said to us, but he also told us nothing besides that he had worked for the CIA. And, quite frankly, I still couldn't believe the CIA had ever hired him.
We all have a television and movie image of "secret agents", but they probably are more like regular people than James Bond. But guys like Pete...I wondered?

We did the dishes and tidied the house. Jack decided we'd have a nice, restful day. Just watch some old movies. Just hang around the house and enjoy Meggy and each other. Nothing like a good scare to make you appreciate what you've got.
It was the middle of March and I really wanted to start planning my garden. While Jack went to pick out some movies at the local video place, I began to sort through my seeds, deciding which ones would be in my garden this year.
The sun was warm and it felt like the long winter might finally be leaving us. A perfect day to daydream about beautiful flowers.

My reverie was cut short by loud noises outside. Meggy was barking furiously. She doesn't usually make this much racket so I ran to see what was going on.
Pete was outside yelling at the young boy who lived across the street. He was also throwing small objects, maybe rocks at the boy.
Since my husband had Jimmy's phone number and I didn't know when he'd return with our DVDs, I picked my cell up and dialed 911. I told the boy to run home and stay there until the police arrived.
Pete was still agitated and walking around aimlessly when the police pulled up. He seemed totally unaware that the squad cars had arrived. Although Agnes will say whatever Pete tells he to say, I just couldn't imagine how she could make excuses for him this time. Assaulting a twelve year old boy is a bit much even for crazy old Pete.

Jack got back home and put the car away. The three of us went indoors, glad that we had not been witnesses to the latest drama. I began to think we might have to take some action to protect ourselves from our hellish neighbor.





[edit on 11-3-2005 by DontTreadOnMe]

Not that we were generally nosey neighbors, but it was a bit difficult not to watch what was transpiring next door. Pete suddenly seemed to become aware of the squad cars surrounding his property. He simply went inside his house, apparenly locked himself inside. The cops started banging on the door, and were yelling, "Open up! Police!" We could barely hear, but we faintly heard Pete askng somethning about a warrant. One of the policeman said that they could go and get one in just a few minutes, but it would be much easier for everyone if Pete would just come out and talk with them for a minute. No sound from inside the house, except for some dragging noises, like he was moving furniture or somthing in front of the doors to keep them from kicking them in.

They did not, however go to get a warant, instead, the Swat Team showed up. They had the house surounded, and every few minutes, they tried to coax him out, using a bullhorn. But it was to no avail. Pete just remained baracaded inside his house. We were shocked. Not that we knew much more about Police proceedure than what we had seen on Cop shows, but we were sure that especially with the Swat Team there, that they would eventually do something more than yell through the bull horn.

Well, eventually they did. The Swat Team members began leaving one by one. So did two of the police cars. Apparently we had been staring more obviously than we had meant to, because the last four policemen who had occupied the remaining two cop cars started walking toward us. We looked at each other, sort of parylized. One of them said, "Hello, do you folks have a few minutes? We would like to talk to you for just a moment if you have time." Well, what could we really do? Say that we didn't have time? We didn't have the nerve to do that, so Jack said, "Yes, of course we do....."

I looked at Jack and wondered why he volunteered us, then remembered that I had called 911. Of course, we would have to say what we saw.

I told our story of the events as simply as I could and mentioned we had had problems with them before. The previous days' drama was excluded as I wans't sure how much Jimmy would want us to share. Jack asked the police why the SWAT term were involved. The police became very vague and mumbled something about medical conditions and we weren't allowed that information.

Two of the officers went across the street to talk to the boy and his parents. Watching them cross the street, I realized that quite a crowd had gathered. Neighbros were quietly chatting and pointing at Pete and Agnes' house. I could only imagine the spin for this story. I knew some of them couldn't wait for the cops to leav so they could find out what we knew.
I'm sure most of the people on our street would be more than happy if Pete left our street and things could return to normal. That never seems to happen in real life, though.

I was beginning to think Pete was gonna try and pull a fast one and claim insanity. Were he or Agnes on the phone to the police and somehow convince the SWAT team to leave? We knew he wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree, but he was definitely aware of what he was doing. These outbreaks would go on for days, sometimes weeks, then just as suddenly, all would be serene for months. Jack used to joke that he must get back on his medication when our street was peaceful.

The cops were through with us and we were walking back to our yard when an EMS truck pulled up in front of the boy's house. Pete must have hit the boy with some of the rocks he had hurled. I didn't seen any obvious injuries when I yelled for him to run home. Maybe the police were simply being cautious.

Jack whispered to me that a medical report along with all the code enforcement and police reports might finally get us some relief from Pete. I had a feeling that getting the system to help us was going to take more than we had to get Pete out of our hair.

I had enough excitement for one day. Putting my arm around my husband's waist, I asked him what DVD delights he brought home. We closed the door and put the outside world on hold. We ordered a pizza and the two of us and Meggy had a quiet evening in front of the tube.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the next episode of Pete's antics.

Surprisingly, months passed and we neither saw nor heard from our hellish neighbors.

Early one morning in spring, the phone rang. I was still in a half-dazed state and was going to let the answering machine pick up. Not being fans of those internal devices that monitor calls, we just allowed the machine to screen our calls.
Jack shot out of bed. "Hey, that's Jimmy on the phone! I better pick up. He never calls this early, maybe there's some news on Pete!"

Jack was gone for a few minutes. He have the most perplexed look on his face. I asked what the problem was.
"Jimmy says that he's gonna be meeting with Pete at his house. We wanted to warn us so we wouldn't worry seeing him coming and going next door.
Personally, I think it's a bit odd to see a "patient" at his home, but what do I know of CIA procedures. I guess we'll just have to see how things progress. Any attempt to monitor Pete and get him to behave is gotta be better than nothing.
I just think it's odd as hell!"

I agreed with Jack because I just felt something was not right with this story. I knew Jack and Jimmy were childhood friends, but that closeness was 25 years ago. Both men had changed a great deal and Jack really had not kept up with Jimmy's career all those years.
Jack told me that Jimmy had intended to become a priest. From the priesthood to the CIA seemed like the two most dissimilar vocations one could choose. Then, I realized that psychiatry and the priesSurprisinglythood were not all that different.
Jimmy had joined Jack for the last undergraduate year. His first three years were spent in the seminary.


I usually trusted my instincts and I felt now was not the time to distrust my gut feelings. I thought we should be wary and not completely believe that Jimmy was going to help us.
After all, most of the bizarreness was our word against Pete, and Pete was a talented sociopath. He charmed police in the past and God know who else to make us look like the problem. I had obtained some of the police records for times they had been called next door and was amazed at how Pete had somehow skewed what was said. The reports looked like he was just in calling the police.

Well, I decided to fix Jack and Meagan some breakfast before doing some early spring gardening. While Jack did the dishes, the dog and I went in to backyard to trim the rose bushes.
Spring was a great time of year for me. I just loved to see Mother Nature bring the earth back to life. I was already planning what flowers to start from seed.
Gardening was therapy for me. At least most of the time. It was rather breezy but the sun was warm and soon I forgot all about recent weird events.


[edit on 3-4-2005 by DontTreadOnMe]