When I was a kid, the people who lived directly across the street from us were an older couple whose children were already raised and gone from the home before we even moved in. We lived in that house for about thirteen years, and I don’t recall ever really getting to know the older couple because they kept to themselves and didn’t want anything to do with all the kids that lived on the street.
There were many of us at that time, so it was a great block to grow up on, but I’m sure that for older people who wanted some peace and quiet, it may not have been ideal. However, the couple didn’t need to ostracize everyone either.
I recall knowing most of the neighbors pretty well, but the couple across the street are largely a blur. The only thing I really remember about them is that she would always peek out between her front curtains at me and my brother or my friends anytime we were playing in my front yard, driveway, or the street in front of my house — thus, she was peeking out at us a lot.
I think my parents tried to maintain a friendly relationship with them, and I have one vague recollection of being in their house, but I don’t remember why. Perhaps my mom was trying to keep things as smooth as possible with them, or maybe I was selling them some Campfire Girl candy during that phase of my life — I suspect it was the latter.
I mainly remember that the neighborhood kids and I tired of their constant spying on us as we played, and sometimes we’d make faces at the window when we’d see the curtains part. I also remember that the boys would sneak over and duck down in the front bushes and reach up and tap on the window and then run away — they’d only do this when it was darkening and the streetlights were coming on, so they could slip away without being easily seen. Even then I didn’t condone them doing that, but I was a kid, so I took some evil glee in it because I also hated that the couple were constantly watching us.
I do believe I’m cursed when it comes to neighbors. I’ve already written in here about the bully who lived next door to me on that same street, so check out that earlier post if you’d like to read what I endured from him. We did have great neighbors to one side of us, though, but now, in my adult life, I’m surrounded by unpleasant neighbors. I actually long for great neighbors with whom we could get together in the evenings for cookouts and conversations, but that has not happened — yet.
The memory of the nosy neighbors who lived across the street from me on East Prospect Street inspired the following story. I wrote this many years ago in a writers’ group, but it’s stayed with me, and I’ve considered doing something more with it, but I don’t know what that would be. I did add a bit in it that was inspired by my current unpleasant neighbors, but I’m not telling you what that is — if you know me well, you can probably pick it out from things I’ve already shared with you in person.
For now, I’ll share the story with you if you’re a paid subscriber. If you are not yet one, please consider becoming one, so you can read my fiction and poetry pieces along with some essays.
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Thanks and happy reading.
Tammy Marshall
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