It was a beautiful Monday morning in October on Wisteria Lane in Bloomingdale. The sky was blue, and a gentle breeze blew from the brook behind the row of cottages, making the weather chilly. Wisteria Lane was so named because the light blue violet of the wisteria flowers flanking the street in front of the array of tiny houses created a fairy-tale atmosphere. I love my town and the communal relationships among its inhabitants. You know, the kind of town where everyone knows everyone else’s business and helps raise each other’s children.
With my fingers wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa, I sat on my grandmother’s patio, wrapped in a warm blanket to ward off the morning chill. I had a few weeks off my job as a technical writer for an equipment merchandising company a few hours from Bloomingdale and had decided to visit my grandmother. I enjoy visiting Grandma because I spent most of my adult years with her before securing a job as a writer, and let’s just say I’m best friends with my Grandma; she gets me the way even my mum couldn’t.
On this catastrophic yet amusing morning, I saw a truck parked in front of the late Mr. Rasheed’s cottage. I wondered who could be visiting the Man’s house so early in the morning, as no one had visited since Mr. Rasheed’s body was moved out of the house a week earlier.
I’m not a tattler or anything of the nature, but I couldn’t help but overhear Grandma discussing with Mrs. Whistledown, whose cottage was near Grandma’s, how lonely the Man was till he died. He rarely received visitors; what a poor, sad man, Mrs. Whistledown whispered to Grandma; imagine my surprise when I saw the truck pull up.
I made a show of sipping my now-empty mug of cocoa. A man exited the truck with an equipment bag and entered Mr. Rasheed’s house. The next thing I knew, he was bringing out some things from the house. Within minutes, his truck was loaded with boxes, bags, bedside lamps, and electronics.
I thought Grandma mentioned that Mr. Rasheed had no family members who visited him all through his stay at Wisteria Lane; how come someone out of the blue is carting away with all his properties barely a week after he died alone in his lonely cottage? I would alert Grandma, but I didn’t want to appear nosy. Besides, there was only little Grandma could do since she was only a neighbor. But the neighbors needed to know what was going on. However, I was starting to see a few lights turned on and curtains shifting to see what was disturbing the neighborhood so early in the morning as it was usually quiet, especially in the mornings.
I was about to inform Grandma. However, another car pulled up behind the truck, doublecrossing it: a red convertible Sedan and a petite woman young enough to be Mr.Rasheed’s granddaughter tumbled out of the vehicle, leaving her door ajar. “Where do you think you are going with my husband’s property?” she screamed halfway out of the car.
“Did she just say husband?” I slowly sat back, holding my cup in both hands and doing my best to look unperturbed by the scenery. The Man kept walking to and from the house with his hands packed with items every time he stepped back out.
The woman jumped in his way, obstructing his path as the Man dropped the last batch of items in the back of his truck. By now, doors were opening, and people stood outside their houses, curious.
“I’m talking to you, boy! What right do you have to come cart away my husband’s belongings?”
I thought the Man was mute or something with the way he kept a straight face and ignored the woman until the woman poked him in the chest.
“What exactly is the problem, Catty? You were never my Dad’s wife, and you know it. My poor Dad just fell under the spell of your hoax vanity.” the Man said with a move of his hand disdainfully before the woman’s face. “You know what that makes you? A gold digger. That’s what you are.”
Looking at the woman thoroughly, I saw she looked like the gold-digging type, a young woman who ran after rich older men for money. How could such a young woman marry an older man who could be his grandfather? Aside from that, if she was his wife, why wasn’t she there when the Man needed her the most? Now, only to show up when the Man was gone. Poor Mr. Rasheed died lonely and alone. What a sad way to die.
“Did you call me a golddigger?” The woman’s voice drew me out of my pity party. She jumped and slapped the Man in the face.
Whaoo! that was so unexpected. I waited for the Man’s reaction, but he just rubbed at his cheek with a menacing look on his face. He must be a gentleman.
The front door of the truck suddenly jerked open, and a pregnant woman jumped out.
She wore a tracksuit as if she were on her way to or from the gym. She looked smart; you couldn’t tell she was pregnant from her back-view.
“Did you just slap my husband?” she screamed, approaching the other woman who was oblivious to her presence till she heard her screech.
“Yes, and you warn your Man to learn to talk to a woman properly.”
“Oh! You didn’t just?” The pregnant woman pounced on the younger woman and beat the hell out of her, pregnancy regardless. The Man rushed to his pregnant wife, pulling her away, but that did not stop the woman from fighting tooth and nail. She even managed to tear the younger woman’s clothes and scratched her cheek.
The younger woman tried unsuccessfully to cover herself up.
She left the scene in shame, throwing behind her just before stepping into her sports car. “You will hear from my lawyer. This ain’t over at all.”
She spat and zoomed off.
“Oh! See me quaking in my boots, I’m so scared of your lawyer.”
The pregnant woman screamed after her tail lights.
It was such an entertaining morning, but unfortunately, it was at the expense of Mr.Rasheed.
Not long after, the Man walked back to his car, pulled his wife along, and zoomed off.
“What was all the raucous about?” Grandma walked to the porch behind me. “Did I just witness a car leave Mr.Rasheed’s house?”
“Yes, indeed! You just missed the most dramatic and entertaining morning on Wisteria Lane in a long time. But I will give you the gist, trust me, Grandma.”
I carried my abandoned cocoa cup and guided my Grandma back into the house to give her a download of an entertaining morning.