You, Me, and Everyone Else
Chapter One (part of it)
I lay in the middle of my bed staring up at the ceiling. The ceilings where the same glow in the dark stars from when I moved in were still tacked up. Back then when my parents would fight and the stars would help me ease back into sleep. My white wooden door was closed; with the outside containing a small chalkboard that had the message, “DON’T BOTHER” written in big darkened white chalk. The message written always changed, but never drastically. It usually would either read “GO AWAY” or “DO NOT ENTER.” The small chalkboard was the only way of declaring privacy of the bedroom. My bed lay in the middle of the room with lilac pillows and bed spread. Tony the build-a-bear laid at the foot in his bear boxers. The wooden headboard was against the walls painted a soft blue that were decorated with shelves, where picture frames embodied me and my best friends. On the left side of the bed was the closet with its sliding mirrored doors opened, showing off the mess of sneakers, flip flops, and the hangers barely holding onto the clothes they possessed. The nightstand had a clock with the wrong time, and a lamp with a tie-dye lampshade. The right side was where my desk stood with the black Flat Screen Dell sitting atop. The screen saver bouncing back and forth saying “BE RIGHT BACK” in a fuchsia color. The middle drawer was a crack open where blank sheets of loose leaf paper stuck out waiting to be written on. My black computer chair had rolled its way out from under the desk out into the middle of the wood floor. My dresser and wood mirror hanging directly above it, were diagonal from the desk. On top of the dresser was a basket filled with hairsprays, mousses, and scrunchies. It also had a jewelry box that contained earrings with no backs, a necklace I never wore, and an old Tweety charm from six flags that I had gotten when I was seven. Two windows were in the room. One was behind the desk overlooking the backyard, where the covered above ground pool stood silently, waiting for summer. The other was on the left side looking out to the neighbors.
Mr. and Mrs. Grundel had been our neighbors since the day we moved into the neighborhood. The very first day we moved in we were greeted only with open arms. I sat in the back seat of my parents green station wagon, my Ipod slowly running out of battery. I looked out the window into what would now be called home. It was then that I saw the thin women with curly blonde hair jump up and start waving vigorously at us, as soon as our car pulled into our new driveway.
“Well you don’t see that everyday” my mother said as she pointed to the woman.
“Only in suburbia” my father commented. It looked as if this woman had been waiting for a celebrity, at how she instantly got to her feet the moment our car came into view. Like she was waiting for this moment for hours, and was first in line to greet us. Staring at the woman I snickered to myself. My father put the cak in park and got out. He was wearing his worn moccasins, kahki shorts, and striped polo. He then continued to point the moving truck in the direction of parking spot along the street. As he turned around now to face our new neighbor, his Foster Grant sunglasses blinding the sun, he noticed the woman making her way toward him across the lawn, her big grin flashing the whole time.
“You must be the new neighbors” she said as she walked across the lawns that divided our homes. “I’m Betty Grundel. Welcome to the neighbored!!” She didn’t bother to shake hands, instead she thrusted the plate of cookies, which were probably rock hard, into my dads stomach and leaned over and gave him a kiss on each cheek. Clearly she was not one to care about personal space. I had stepped out of the car and stared at the scene I was witnessing. This was very different then the city. Instead of next door neighbors greeting you with their loud shouts in their homes, we had suburban house wives greeting us with cookies and kisses.
“Thank you Mrs. Gru-“
“Oh no. Please. Betty” she insisted. My father gave a half smile obviously baffled at the sudden instant hospitality we were being faced with. My father was never one for socializing unless it was with clients, or close friends. He liked his own personal comfort zone, and this woman had obviously made her way into it, unwelcome. “Oh sorry my manners have escaped me. I’m David Palmer. My Wife Cheryl” My mother was now standing next to my father looking the stranger up and down. Mrs. Grundel had on white strapped sandals, jean Capri’s stopping short at the ankles, a button up tank top, and a white visor. Her skin was a peach tone, with a hint of a tan that looked as if it was there all year round. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and just like my mother, I studied the lady in front of us.
“Hi! I’m Betty Grundel. Your new neighbor” she said as she did the same thing to my mother that she just seconds ago did to my dad. Shocked by the sudden kisses and hugs my mother laughed it off making the situation less awkward.
“And my daughter” my father continued. I had turned my Ipod off and was now slowly walking toward him. “Quinn” He held his arm out and his hands were making the come hither motion to me. I stood next to my dad as he then proceeded to drape his arm around me. Attempting to try and display his less then perfect family.
“What a lovely young lady” Mrs. Grundel as well continued the tradition and gave me two kisses one on each cheek. “So what brings you folks out into” she then proceeded to use air quotations “country” she asked warmly.
“Needed a change of pace” my father was now moving his head and observing the scenery around him. How almost every front lawn had a decorated garden and almost every kid was riding their bikes and tricycles up and down the street. That the breeze was warm, and the air was clean and unpolluted; unlike the city. “I think a slower life style will be healthier then the fast paced one of the cities” my father stated as she looked back at Betty.
“Well this neighborhood is. . . “
“BETTY WILL YOU STOP SCARING OUR NEW NEIGHBORS AWAY” the voice boomed from inside the house. Then a white screen door shut with a thud, and Mr. Grundel made his way out to where his wife was standing. He was a bigger man. Bigger then my father at least; that was for sure. He stood at a height of at least six four, and looked as if he weighed two hundred pounds, but not fat, muscle. He had a shiny bald head, and was wearing a Yankees t-shirt and black shorts. “Sorry folks. Betty loves to be the first to greet the newbie’s on the block.”
“Oh Fred. I was trying to be nice.” Mrs. Grundel gave a light laugh and turned toward her husband giving him a playful smack on his chest with the back of her hand. Mr. Grundel had put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Fred Grundel. Welcome.” He held out his big firm hand for my father to shake. My dad stared at it then after a second shook it firmly.
“Thanks.” The movers had begun to unload the truck with all our belongings. The boxes we had packed were now becoming a medium size pile on our lawn. It was starting to accumulate and I was in no way excited to lug each box up the flight of stairs to my bedroom. They started unpacking couches and mattress too. Getting out from my dad’s grasp around my shoulders I walked over to the edge of our driveway. I looked out toward the neighborhood I would be calling home for the next several years. How I had left all my friends behind. Sure High School was a great place to restart, but I was still uneasy about the move. I loved my life back in the city. I was content. I watched as mothers stood on their patios calling their kids in for dinner, and showers. Watching an old couple walk their old bulldog down the street. It would take getting used to but I would manage. I had to. The summer was my chance to get to meet new kids, and explore and get a feel for the neighborhood. There was again no turning back. This was my new life. The sun was setting off in the distance. It was getting late.
“Hey I have an idea” Betty chimed enthusiastically. “I doubt you guys have any food, and it would be so silly to go out eat on this beautiful night” she was giving eye contact to both my parents “Why not come to our house for a barbeque”
“That’s a great idea Betty” Mr. Grundel claimed.
“We have a lot of unpacking to get done” My mother was never one to start a project late. Where there was cleaning, unpacking, washing, or scrubbing, she hopped on it within ten seconds. To know there were unpacked boxes in our new home would only anger her. “We would hate to hold you up”
“Oh no it’s no problem at all. Fred will cook and I’ll help you start unpacking”
“No really. . . “My mother protested. But it was too late. Betty had already made her way toward the sea of boxes, carpets, lamps, and rugs. She picked up a box and headed toward our door.
“You guys like burgers and dogs” It was Fred now.
“Yeah. Sounds good.” My father then walked off to where my mother and Betty were heaving boxes into the house. I started back up the driveway and picked up a box that was labeled “QUINN’S ROOM” and made my way in. I trudged up the stairs and made a left. My room was the last door across from the bathroom. I pushed open the white door and dropped the box to my feet. My room was spacious, and comfy. It had white walls, and windows with blue curtains. My closet was on the left opened. I could see little knick knacks were still in it that were left behind from the old residents.
After an hour and a half of moving boxes in their appropriate rooms and unpacking most of them, my mother was content and able to go over the Grundel’s without much worry. The movers assured her they would put the furniture in the places she had pointed out and they would be done within the time it took us to eat. It didn’t matter where they put the stuff, it would only be redone once she got home. She would only be up anyway until three in the morning putting crystals in the glass bookcase, and putting forks, spoons and knives in the proper drawers.
We entered the Grundel’s backyard and took seats around the table on their back porch. Hamburgers and hotdogs were on separate platters in the middle of the table, with potato salad, and coleslaw on either side of them. We sat and ate with a friendly conversation keeping the mood happy. They talked about schools, work, and leisure activities. They told me that the high school was wonderful and a blue ribbon one at that. How there were kids my age in the development that were nice and always outside playing. That I should never feel scared to just walk up to them and play; with me that was easier said then done. I was never one to just wander up to someone and just go “Hey.” Another simple reason my parents left the city. They felt I would fit in more here then there. That kids here were more my speed and less wild. When my parents asked if they had any children they told us they had an older daughter who was married and living in Maine. That she and her husband and two kids came up for Christmas and all the major holidays. They asked if I was the only one and I nodded my head. The conversation continued through desert where the Grundel’s had cookies and ice cream. They proceeded to tell my parents where the convenience stores were, the movie theaters, and all the good restaurants. How to get from our house to the highway faster and easier, where the mall was, and all the hot spots for kids. Betty knew her stuff. As dessert came to a close my parents thanked them for their hospitality, and hoped to do this again sometime.
We walked across the lawn back into house where now couches, coffee tables, lamps, rugs, and other pieces of furniture were now laid put into the places my mother picked out. I wished my parents good night and went up to my room. My bed was in the middle of my room where I was able to overlook everything. My desk and computer chair were on the right side where my computer laid in a box waiting to be assembled in the morning, I unpacked my boxes and started to put away clothes, shoes, and accessories. I plugged my cell phone charger in the wall and put my LG 8350 on it. The annoying ring tone sounded as it turned on. I finished unpacking my stuff and put the empty boxes outside my room on the white carpet, and left them for my dad to pick up. I walked back in my room and changed into my striped green boxers and my blood drive t-shirt and sat on my bed. I put my Ipod on loud and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling had stars on them from the last resident, who lived here. I laid there thinking of everything that would change. How moving here would determine my parents marriage, if my dad’s job would turn into the multi dollar corporation he dreamed of having. If I would be able to adjust and fit in here with kids my own age. I stared out the window toward the Grundel’s envying their perfect life.
