The New Neighbor (2 page)

"In I Peter 5:8," Pastor Quillerman said, "and I'm reading from the New International Reader’s Version here, Peter says, 'Control yourselves. Be on your guard. Your enemy the devil is like a roaring lion. He prowls around looking for someone to chew up and swallow.'"
 

Some of the Pritchards' neighbors were in the church, too. Mr. and Mrs. LaBianco were seated in their usual place: front pew, right column, on the aisle. And behind them were the Weylands, Paul and his wife Denise and their teenage daughters, Caryl and Stephanie.

"Now
what
, you may ask," the pastor went on, "does self control have to do with being on guard against evil? Isn't it enough simply to watch out for evil? Isn't it enough for us to be constantly on the alert for its traps? Well, my friends, that way of thinking happens to
be
one of its traps."

Sheri MacNeil sat in the very back pew with her son Christopher. She always sat there, just in case the toddler decided to start up a fuss or needed to go to the bathroom.
 

"Just as a child molester or a murderer almost never
looks
like a child molester or murderer, evil is seldom obvious. In the past, evil has been depicted as a red demon with horns and a tail. We’ve become more sophisticated today, but I’m afraid we still expect it to show itself, to
look
like evil. It's natural. I find myself doing it all the time. We all want something solid and specific to watch for. But when we spend all of our time trying to do away with things that might
look
questionable, sometimes we
completely
miss the most
insidious
forms of evil that are right
before
us ... or, my friends, or ... that are growing
inside
us."

Robby's best friend Dylan Garry was seated with his mother in the opposite column of pews – Mr. Garry never came to church – and the two boys made subtle, snide faces at one another across the center aisle.

"Just as god lives in each of us – just as the kingdom of heaven is within us, as Jesus said – we also have seeds of evil inside us," Pastor Quillerman said. "All those seeds need is a little nurturing, a little care, in order to blossom. Or sometimes, all they need is a little neglect – like weeds in a garden. We so often look
outward
for the things we need, for the answers to our questions, the solutions to our problems. More often than not, we would save a lot of time by looking
inward
. The novelist Steven Spruill once said, ‘We are, all of us, all of the things we have ever been.’ And that’s a lot. We have within us so much to draw on, to learn from. But we tend to neglect it while we search outside ourselves.

“In Matthew 7:5, we are told, ‘First take the piece of wood out of your own eye. Then you will be able to see clearly to take the bit of sawdust out of your friend's eye.’ Look to
yourself
first – you may be guilty of the very thing you’re accusing your friend of, and that makes you a hypocrite. Evil is like that. Before we can recognize it in front of us, we have to be able to recognize it
inside
of us. Because like everything else ... it’s there. That’s where self control comes in. If we cannot manage our own weaknesses and problems, we have no business passing judgment on others for theirs.”

Jen played tic-tac-toe with herself on a scrap of paper and George's head began to nod. Karen poked her elbow in his ribs and his head popped up; after a while, though, it began, ever so slightly at first, to nod again.
 

The pastor said, "Evil never looks like evil. It looks innocent and harmless ... attractive ... even alluring. And sometimes ...
sometimes
... it looks like the face we see when we look in the mirror.”

Chapter 1
 

The Arrival

Robby Pritchard was masturbating when he first saw her. He was supposed to be doing his homework, and had intended to do it when he came to his room earlier. But his mind took no time at all to wander from his English literature textbook  to thoughts of his English lit teacher, Miss Weiss.

Miss Weiss was young; this was her first teaching job. In fact, she was the youngest teacher Robby had ever had and he found this distracting. Not simply because she was young, but because she was beautiful. Tall, with dark-brown hair, long legs and tits that were ... well, she put Debbie Petievich to shame and Debbie Petievich – captain of the cheerleaders, chairman of the entertainment committee and the most sought after date at Enterprise High School – was no slouch. Maybe it was because Miss Weiss was older and in a position of authority that made her so much more desirable; maybe it was because Debbie Petievich, aside from her "sexualism and gorgeosity" as Dylan Gary put is, was such a bitch. Whatever the reason, Robby knew he was not alone; Miss Weiss had eclipsed Debbie Petievich in the minds of a lot of the guys at Enterprise.
 

On the evening of the new neighbor's arrival, Miss Weiss had also eclipsed English lit homework in Robby's mind. After his initial attempt to concentrate on his homework failed, he gave in and closed the book on his desk. The more he thought about her – fantasized, really, because he'd never actually seen her in the nude – the more aroused he became and the more difficult it was to remain focused on his work.

He turned his chair to face the computer monitor on his L-shaped desk and went to porn site he’d book marked. The screen filled with thumbnails of naked women engaged in sex with men, other women, or themselves, in couples, threesomes and groups. He chose a video, and as it opened, he got up and locked his bedroom door, then removed his shoes and jeans.

He knew his mom was loading the dinner dishes into the washer and Dad was helping Jen with her homework, so no one would bother him for a while. He started slowly as he watched the video – a beautiful young brunette masturbating with a vibrating dildo. It was a self-shot amateur video; the woman was on her sofa, the camera apparently resting on the coffee table. She smiled at him as she moved the dildo with her left hand and fingered her clit with her right.

A car door slammed and there was a mild clatter outside, but it could have been across town as far as he was concerned. He stroked himself a little faster as he watched the brunette – no more than nineteen, probably making the video for a boyfriend.

Outside, the sounds continued and Robby's curiosity stirred in a distracted sort of way as his hand moved faster.

A few long minutes passed unnoticed.
 

There were only the girl on the screen, the sensation of his hand –

– and the noise outside.
 

After a while, something crashed.
 

Robby did not stop, but he turned from the monitor to the shaded window. To satisfy his curiosity so he could continue uninterrupted, he rolled his chair over to the window, pulled the shade aside and looked out into the night.

There were lights on in the house across the street. It had been empty and for sale for nearly six months, since the Huitts had moved to the east coast, but now there was a car in the drive with a U-Haul trailer behind it and a few boxes on the ground. The trailer's doors had just been slammed – he realized that was the crash he'd heard – and a woman stood by the trailer now, slapping her hands together to brush them off. Then she bent forward slightly to dust off her thighs.
 

Robby's hand continued to stroke and he knew he was close. He was about to drop the shade and go back to the monitor because he wanted to see the girl in the video squirm and wince as she reached orgasm, but –

– the woman across the street stood and turned, one hand on her hip, the other brushing aside a long strand of hair and –
 

– she looked at him.
 

Through the darkness of the clear, cold night, from across the street, she looked into his window and directly into his eyes.
 

Embarrassed and ashamed, Robby flinched, already trembling and grasping on the very edge of his orgasm. He jerked the vinyl shade back into place with his free hand, but his movement was too sudden, too strong, and the shade slipped from his hand and shot upward, rolling up above the window and –
 

– she was still watching him, staring, not absently, but with interest, as if perhaps she were watching some suspicious goings on at the house across the street, like a break-in or a domestic squabble in the yard, and –

– Robby wanted to duck below the window, feeling certain she could tell what he was doing even though he knew better, but he couldn't take his eyes from her, even as his hand moved faster and faster and his chest heaved and a small moan rose up in his throat. He couldn't take his eyes from her pale face, from
her
eyes, because it seemed odd that he could see them so clearly from that distance, and –

– in the glow of the streetlight, he saw her eyes narrow and crinkle slightly as her interest turned to amusement, and she smirked, then her narrow face opened in a smile directed
at him
and –

– that was when Robby came.
 

* * * *

"That's
right
," George Pritchard said encouragingly to his sixteen-year-old daughter, looking at the math problem she'd worked out in her notebook. "I think you've got it, Jen."
 

She bit her lower lip, frowning at the numbers. "It's hard," she muttered.
 

"I know, but you're catching on. It's going to get easier, I promise."

"Then I'll graduate and never use this information again, right?" she asked with a smirk.
 

"Something like that," he said as he stood from the dining room table and went into the kitchen, where the dishwasher was rumbling and harrumphing and his wife Karen was seated at the small desk in the corner licking envelopes. "What're you doing, hon?"
 

"Getting the bills ready to send tomorrow," she said.
 

He got a beer from the refrigerator, popped the can open and took a drink, leaning against the counter and watching his wife.
 

She looked tired as she addressed another envelope, sealed it, and put it on the stack, then started on another. Her shoulders sagged and her blonde hair was mussed; her movements were mechanical and her mind seemed to be on other things.
 

Karen was his second wife. His first – Robby's mother – had been run down by a drunk driver while crossing the street fifteen years ago and he'd vowed then never to remarry. It had been a wonderful marriage in every way. Of course, it had only lasted four years and might very well have soured with time, but those four years with Laura had been happy ones, with never a fight or a harsh word exchanged, with an openness that George had never experienced before, and a sex life that did not fade a fraction during their marriage but instead grew more exciting and creative. He talked about his first marriage little, if at all, because he found that no one believed that a marriage, even one so brief, could be so good.

But after three years of raising Robby on his own and having no social life whatsoever, outside of his work as general manager of a local FM radio station, George began to grow lonely. He hadn't slept well since Laura's death. For a while, it was because he missed having
her
beside him in bed, but as time passed, it was simply because he was
alone
in bed. Then, when Robby had to have his tonsils removed, George met Karen.
 

She was a nurse in the pediatrics ward at Redding Medical Center and seemed to sense that, although the tonsillectomy was a minor and routine operation, George was worried. One loss had been almost more than he could bear and he feared any possible complications. Karen was friendly and reassuring, but she seemed reluctant when George tried to engage her in more personal conversation, especially when he asked her out to dinner. He was not discouraged, though.

After Robby was discharged, George could not stop thinking about her. She was physically attractive – a soft face with a slightly upturned nose and lovely blue eyes that were at once warm and vulnerable, cautious, as if they had seen their share of pain and disappointment, perhaps more. But she also had about her a soothing calm, an assuredness and strength that seemed to outweigh the shadows of pain in her eyes, and that attracted George as much as her physical beauty.
 

He dropped by the hospital to visit with her during her lunch break and tried to get her telephone number. When that failed, he sent flowers with another invitation to dinner and his telephone number. Four days later, she called and, with obvious reluctance, agreed to go out with him.

On their first date, Karen told him about Jen, then six-years-old, and said she'd been reluctant to date because she wanted to give all the time she could to her daughter; raising a child alone was difficult and Karen wanted to make sure she had plenty of time available to make up for any mistakes she might make before it was too late. George said he understood perfectly and had no intention of coming between Karen and her daughter.

Their relationship proceeded slowly. There were no fireworks, but George enjoyed her company, warmed up to her easily, and with time, came to care for her a great deal, even
love
her. Jen seemed to like him and, when she met Rob, they hit it off nicely.

It was some time before George and Karen made love, but when they did, it was tender and loving, although not especially passionate.

Karen’s first marriage had not been a good one and she was reluctant to marry again. She feared she would not be able to fill Laura's shoes, neither as George's wife nor Robby's mother. But George reassured her in his calming way that she had nothing to worry about.

After they were married, George frequently had to remind himself not to compare his relationship with Karen to his previous marriage. Sexually, Laura had been playful, imaginative, eager to please, and always ready to try something new. She often met him at the front door after work in a new piece of lingerie and they made love in every room in the house before having Rob. They’d viewed sex the way a child viewed recess at school – a time to play, to have fun.