A most peculiar man
My mother has never been afraid to pull up stakes and relocate. She’s moved house more times than I can count, and home was always where we were at the moment.
Each move was a new adventure. We’d order food from all of the local take-out restaurants to determine who made the best pizza, curry, egg rolls, and tacos. We’d learn the new refuse pick-up procedures and how far it was to the nearest library, grocers, and petrol station.
There always was the somewhat awkward moment where we’d get to know the new neighbors. In some areas, there were welcome parties, gifts, and committees. We wouldn’t meet those living next door at times until an issue crept up. We’ve had neighbors whose turkeys would climb onto their garage roof and look down into our garden. The same turkeys would occasionally escape from the neighbor’s yard, and we would see their wings flapping as they ran down the street.
Some neighbors became friends, we’ve watched their children grow up, and have children of their own. Some neighbors from decades ago we still consider close friends, and we are still in touch with them to this day. Then there are those neighbors who make you a bit nervous. Those individuals who make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and kick your fight or flight reaction into high gear. The neighbors you try to avoid, and hope will move away soon.
While we were moving into a large rundown Victorian rental house on a half-acre lot in Downers Grove, we met one such terrifying neighbor. As we were getting the mail out of the mailbox at the curb one day, an older balding man walked over from across the street. He looked like he could be someone’s grandpa. Without hesitation, he introduced himself as a retired hitman for the mob and proceeded to regale us with stories of his time in jail. Every time he saw my mother thereafter, he’d run across the street chat her up. We moved about three years later, but not before he gave my mother his cellphone number “just in case.”
“Just in case?!?” Just in case -what? If we ever needed a hitman? Do people have such phone numbers in their list of contacts “just in case?” I do not. Never felt the need to have such a “resource” on hand. If you happen to know a good plumber, well, that’s a number I want in my Rolodex!