text: This short story was inspired by Tom Waits. From the Tom Waits' album "Mule Variations" (1999). ‘I saw him again today.’ 'Saw who?' 'You know...him.' 'No hun, I don't know who you are referring to when you just say him?' 'You know, our neighbour. The old man.' ‘Really? Humf, I thought he would have left the neighbourhood after your last note. Maybe he didn’t get it?’ ‘No, I’m sure he got it. He opens his front door at least once a day when he walks to that disgusting old looking mailbox. Who would send him mail anyway? He’s sooo creepy. So when are you coming home? The kids miss you and I don’t feel safe, you know, with him being right there.’ ‘I’ll be back soon. We’re finishing the plans for the new South side of the building. I would say, I’m home on Tuesday.’ She gave a long purposeful sigh over the phone, ‘All right. I guess that’s fine.’ ‘Honey, come on. It’s not that bad.’ ‘It’s just that old creep. He’s always staring. I saw him open his door yesterday while the boys were playing innocently on the sidewalk. The kids say he didn’t say or do anything but I know. I know what he wants. He keeps whistling that tune as well. I don’t know where it’s from or why, but every time he sees them he would start whistling the same old tune. Do you think he’s trying to lure them in? Do you think he’s tried? Her voice slipped into a sinister tone, as he heard her adjust the phone in her hand. ‘I heard he has no one. No family, no pets, nothing. That’s why he wants my boys. He wants their company. I can tell.’ ‘That’s a bit...extreme.’ He said trying to lighten the tension. ‘Extreme! These are my boys! My sweet baby boys. I don’t want that dirty old man to touch them!’ ‘Okay, okay. Jesus Christ.’ - - ‘They’re my boys too. Don’t you think I worry too?’ ‘Doesn’t sound like it.’ ‘F--‘ ‘Excuse me?' ‘Never mind.’ ‘Just tell them to be careful around him.’ ‘Don’t you think I do it everyday!!?’ ‘Yes, of course.’ - - - ‘Also, I’m pretty sure he's a sex offender and he hasn’t gone around to tell people. That’s illegal right?' ‘Honey, I don’t--‘ ‘I can call the cops for that, I’m sure.’ ‘Jesus hun, don’t call the cops again. Last time you thought you heard some moaning from the shed, meanwhile it was just his cat. At this rate, no one will take you seriously.’ ‘What about that smell!?’ ‘What smell?’ ‘That one day when the whole block smell like a bleach bomb went off. That’s the kind of cleaning of someone who did something awful.’ - - - ‘Either way. Please don’t call the cops again. Or sneak into his yard for that matter.’ ‘Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.’ - - ‘Don’t ask me then...? Also, I’m just saying. He’s never bothered us really. You seriously have to find better things to do during the day.’ - - - - ‘Are you staring at him now?’ ‘No.’ ‘I just heard the curtains draw.’ ‘I’m just checking if he’s there.’ - - ‘Yup, there he is. In that god-awful backyard of his. The lawn is dead and he doesn’t care. Just working in that wooden shed of his. All closed up and secretive. It sounds like he is slamming in nails into the floor of the shed. What’s he building in there? Maybe he is covering something up. Or someone. Buried it underneath the house. Buried his ex-wife underneath the panels? What do you think he’s building in there?’ He sighed softly on the other side of the line. Like a person patiently waiting for a train to pass before crossing the rails. - - ‘You still there?’ ‘Yup’ ‘So, what do you think he’s building in there? I can hear him at night, hitting and sawing. With that blue light that shines out from underneath the door.’ ‘Honey. I don’t know.’ ‘I bet you it’s some sex swing or dildo machine.’ ‘Jesus.’ ‘I bet you he’s not Christian either.’ ‘I wouldn’t know hun. I’ve seen him fix an old chair. He could be a repairman.’ 'No holy carpenter there, no sir.' - - ‘I’ve seen him whack a mole dead. No sympathy - that old wretched man.’ ‘Hun, you know they are a pest there.’ ‘Yea, but no man of God would hurt an innocent animal.’ ‘Hun, I’ve seen you pull out the rat traps with their squished heads... and you know, smile.’ ‘That’s different. And don’t say that.’ ‘What?’ ‘Squished heads. We’re Christian.’ - - ‘Okay.’ ‘Okay, what?’ ‘I don’t know hun, I’m off to bed. Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.’ ‘Like what? What do you expect from me!?’ ‘You’ve already threatened him with your letters and sending cops to his door for no good reason.’ ‘A mother has six sense about these kinds of things. That’s why I’m here, protecting my babies, and you’re not.’ - - ‘That’ not fair. You know I need to finish this job. Also. Seriously. He’s just an old creepy man minding his own business. I suggest you do the same.’ - - - ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just stressed.’ ‘Okay’ - - - ‘Unless he does something fishy again.’ ‘No Chloe. Dammit. Just call me if something is weird or happened. If you want me to call him, I’ll do.’ ‘Like you’ll be able to help. Also, he cut his phone line with some scissors last week. It’s not like you can reach him, and I doubt he has a cellphone.’ ‘He cut his own line with scissors?’ ‘Yup. Normal right?’ - - - - ‘Night Chloe. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’ ‘Yea’ Click. X Dial tone Dialling Ringing ‘Hello’ ‘Matt.’ ‘Hun?’ ‘You better come over now. The cops are here... ’ ‘Dammit Chloe why did you call the cops again. He’s just an old man! What could he have possibly done?' ‘There is so much blood...’ ‘Wait. What? What blood - who’s blood! What happened?’ - - - ‘Chloe!?’ - - - - ‘The cops aren’t here for him.