A reluctant monster

As I crept back into the woods I was cognizant of dead leaves crunching beneath my feet, and I walked carefully to make as little noise as possible. I scanned the area back and forth, and saw no one. There were some lights on indoors, and I knew Pete had just been there a few moments ago. I figured he had gone inside. Tension rippled thru my body as I gingerly stepped up onto the concrete porch, and I took one last glance behind me as I approached the door. I stood there on weak legs pondering the doorbell for what seemed like forever. The daylight was fading and a fuchsia glow filled the sky. With all of the courage I could muster, I reached out and pushed the button. The ding of the bell about made me jump out of my skin, and I instinctively stepped back from the door. At any second I expected one of the bogey couple to fling the door open.

And then, off to my right I heard someone say “Hello, can I help you?”. I froze, unable to see where the voice was coming from or who it was. I looked to where I thought the voice had come from, and this spectral figure appeared out of the twilight haze, walking towards me. Even though I had prepared myself for what I planned to say to Pete (or Lilly, as the case may have been), I had again been caught off guard. I stammered and verbally stumbled for a moment or two, and finally explained who I was (as surprisingly my nemesis did not recognize me at all) and what I was doing there. Thankfully Pete did not fly into a rage, nor did he try to chase me away. Ironically, he seemed rather curious and surprised at meeting me again. I can’t remember all of what was said, but he invited me to take a stroll around his property and we reflected on the past and discussed the present. Time had changed Pete, as he was no longer young and spry, and his pot belly and grey hair belied his age. Of course, I was in my early 40’s, and no longer a teenager. One thing he remarked upon was that this particular night was very much like the night he accosted me so many long years ago. I agreed that it was quite reminiscent of that evening. I told him about me seeing him at the polls and being scared out of my mind, and he seemed rather taken aback. He told me I had no reason to fear him, and he appeared shocked that someone would be afraid of him. In addition, he said he did not want to attack or harm me, but felt he had no choice and no other way to try and counter the criminal activity that he was suffering. The police suggested to him that he stake out his house, and hide his vehicle in hopes of catching a thief. They told him to try and detain the person(s) if possible until the police arrived. Of course, he had no idea who I was nor did he know that I had stolen nothing. I was simply someone who wandered into a trap he set for others. His memories of that night differed slightly from mine, but I saw no point in trying to argue over discrepancies. All I was seeking was the chance to put this terrifying event of my past to rest for good. Finally, I asked him about Lilly. He told me she had been in a bad accident years ago and was upstairs in bed, trying to get rid of a headache. I told him I was sorry to hear that.

We talked for a little while, and finally he said he had to go. But before we parted ways, he told me that he and Lilly would again be working the polls at the general election in November. He did not want me to be surprised (or scared) if I saw him again. I also told him that I had drawn pictures of him as a monster and he was somewhat offended and said I should get rid of those pictures as that was not him. In essence, he went out of his way to defuse any fears that I may have still harbored towards him.

I ran into Pete one more time that summer, and this time he recounted telling Lilly about running into me earlier. This was because I had asked if I could speak to her. He confided that she got angry with him and more or less wanted nothing to do with me. That was kind of rough knowing that I was still a scapegoat in her eyes, even for something that I didn’t do. I have no doubt in my mind that she blamed me, and will probably do so until the day she dies, for all of the ills that befell the construction of their house. Apparently Lilly was the hostile one, rather than Pete, whom I had feared for all of those years. Sometimes I wonder what I might do should I find out that she has passed away. If I do anything at all (assuming I would know of her passing) I’d probably place an olive branch on her grave. That would be the only way I’d possibly make peace with her.