• When the War Comes

    I walked to the mailbox the other day and met a new neighbor. He moved in six years ago. I then had to ask myself how that’s possible. The answer is pretty weird. The reason is that I shun all my neighbors, because I fear them.

    When I was fourteen, a lunatic neighbor rode up the hill on a black horse. Apparently, some hunter had mistaken his horse for a deer and shot at it. They missed, but he snapped. He rode up to our house. My three younger brothers were inside and I went out to see what this guy wanted. He sat on his black horse, all dressed in black with a black Eastwood hat. He had a stick of dynamite in his belt and a lit cigar in his mouth. I’m not making this shit up. He started yelling at me about shooting at his horse. Then he pulled a revolver from his holster, aimed it at me, and shot. The bullet hit the ground about three feet away and sprayed dirt and rocks. Some hit my arm and cut it, causing it to bleed. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. My entire body locked up and my knees shook. All I could do was stand there. He then told me he was going to blow up our house. And I believed him. Then he rode off down the road and tried to threaten several other neighbors. My parents weren’t home at the time and there were no cell phones then. When they got home, my dad called the cops. They did nothing about this guy.

    My dad told us next time to get the shotgun and duck down below the window, then pop up and shoot the person in the chest. I guess fifty-nine-year-old me has been expecting “next-time” to come some day. Thankfully, it never has. And I wonder about myself. Would I freeze on the spot like fourteen-year-old me? Would I be able to take someone’s life for threatening my family? Should I? And I hate that we live in a world where that choice has to be made. I feel for the people that live through things like that. I sympathize with people who were minding their own business, living their lives, and a war came along and ran through their yard.

    So yeah, I keep to myself up here. I don’t talk much with neighbors. I don’t go out and meet the new ones. I don’t get in their business and I mind my own. And I pretty much like it that way. It doesn’t mean I’m a horrible person, or that I hate them. I just like it quiet and private.