When his longtime backyard neighbor moved out without telling anyone, Bob was surprised. But when his new neighbor moved in, Bob was shocked.
His old neighbor had kept his yard in pristine condition. It looked like a nature preserve. But the morning after his new neighbor moved in, Bob heard the roar of a chainsaw out back. He looked out and was horrified to see a man cutting down his old neighbor’s beautiful trees.
“What the f**k!” he said to his wife.
“It’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back. “Maybe he just wants to start over.”
Bob hoped she was right. But each time he checked out his neighbor’s yard when he was cutting his grass, the situation had grown worse.
His new neighbor was starting over all right. He was turning his backyard into a junkyard, filled with an array of bizarre objects, including a seesaw and a geometric dome, half-completed projects and dead trees. What was once a paradise had become a wasteland.
Bob wanted to ask his new neighbor why he was doing this. But whenever he saw Bob coming, his neighbor turned and walked away.
“Maybe he needs help,” his wife said.
Bob hoped his neighbor would move. He prayed for foreclosure. He fantasized about welcoming a normal new neighbor and helping him clean up the mess and begin anew.
But his crazy neighbor stayed, and the crap in his backyard kept expanding. Cutting grass, Bob could no longer bear to look. Seeing all the clutter only made him angry. If he did take a gander, he’d be upset for days.
Bob began fertilizing the trees in his backyard every few months, hoping they would grow faster and obscure his view. He planted new trees too. His backyard began to resemble a nursery.
One snowy winter afternoon, Bob sat in his sunroom on the back of his house, warmed by a gas fireplace. He sometimes went out there to relax.
But through the leafless trees, his neighbor’s backyard was on full display. Bob dropped an f-bomb. But then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to think pleasant thoughts.
What came to his mind instead, though, were dark remembrances of times when he had felt maligned. Each of these events had haunted him. Now they flooded back all at once.
“It was not my fault!” Bob cried out.
Trembling, he opened his eyes and saw his neighbor, in a T-shirt, pushing a red wheelbarrow through the snow into the middle of his backyard. He set the wheelbarrow down and stared at it for a minute. Then he trudged back to his house and went inside.
That’s not my fault either, Bob thought. And yet he’d taken it on. He had allowed others’ behavior to ravage his life.
But then the snow stopped and the sun broke through the clouds and Bob let go of his neighbor’s yard and all the things that had caused him to suffer.
His old neighbor had kept his yard in pristine condition. It looked like a nature preserve. But the morning after his new neighbor moved in, Bob heard the roar of a chainsaw out back. He looked out and was horrified to see a man cutting down his old neighbor’s beautiful trees.
“What the f**k!” he said to his wife.
“It’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back. “Maybe he just wants to start over.”
Bob hoped she was right. But each time he checked out his neighbor’s yard when he was cutting his grass, the situation had grown worse.
His new neighbor was starting over all right. He was turning his backyard into a junkyard, filled with an array of bizarre objects, including a seesaw and a geometric dome, half-completed projects and dead trees. What was once a paradise had become a wasteland.
Bob wanted to ask his new neighbor why he was doing this. But whenever he saw Bob coming, his neighbor turned and walked away.
“Maybe he needs help,” his wife said.
Bob hoped his neighbor would move. He prayed for foreclosure. He fantasized about welcoming a normal new neighbor and helping him clean up the mess and begin anew.
But his crazy neighbor stayed, and the crap in his backyard kept expanding. Cutting grass, Bob could no longer bear to look. Seeing all the clutter only made him angry. If he did take a gander, he’d be upset for days.
Bob began fertilizing the trees in his backyard every few months, hoping they would grow faster and obscure his view. He planted new trees too. His backyard began to resemble a nursery.
One snowy winter afternoon, Bob sat in his sunroom on the back of his house, warmed by a gas fireplace. He sometimes went out there to relax.
But through the leafless trees, his neighbor’s backyard was on full display. Bob dropped an f-bomb. But then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to think pleasant thoughts.
What came to his mind instead, though, were dark remembrances of times when he had felt maligned. Each of these events had haunted him. Now they flooded back all at once.
“It was not my fault!” Bob cried out.
Trembling, he opened his eyes and saw his neighbor, in a T-shirt, pushing a red wheelbarrow through the snow into the middle of his backyard. He set the wheelbarrow down and stared at it for a minute. Then he trudged back to his house and went inside.
That’s not my fault either, Bob thought. And yet he’d taken it on. He had allowed others’ behavior to ravage his life.
But then the snow stopped and the sun broke through the clouds and Bob let go of his neighbor’s yard and all the things that had caused him to suffer.
