Beyond the Fence

Chrissy

My life has a flow. That is what I tell myself in order for me to keep from admitting I am living my life through a routine. It is a self-imposed prison I sentenced myself to after the loss of Cassy.

I had a basic routine when I still had Cassy, but with her, spontaneity was her mantra and she had no problem spewing her spontaneity at me. It was a breath of fresh air, to be honest, and I feigned exasperation whenever I was a victim of her randomness. We had so many fun experiences because of her desire for adventure and to explore, it would be a disgrace to her memory if I admit that I enjoyed varying my routine.

Now, however, I wake up at 4:45 every morning, start up the coffee pot, go to the bathroom and pee, wash my hands and face, get my coffee, sit on the lanai, and tell myself it is a good day to live.

The morning after the McNees left was no different. It was a Saturday, a shift day, and another beautiful day in Florida.

Mr. McNee had his routines too and a wave of sadness hit me as I backed out of my garage and down the driveway. On the mornings I left for the firehouse, Mr. McNee would be shuffling down his walk toward the mailbox in order to get the newspaper. He always wore a loose-fitting tank top, knit basketball shorts, and flip-flops. We would smile and wave at one another, exchange simple salutes, and give each other a thumbs-up.

I had looked over to his walk and faked a smile, waved to no one, saluted the sky, and gave a thumbs-up to a memory. The feeling of being alone, again, rushed through me, causing a lump to form in my throat. As I drove away, I swallowed the sadness and began to focus my mind on mentally readying myself for the 24-hour workday.

Change can be both difficult and rejuvenating at the same time. At the insistence of my former captain, the shift commander moved me from my former firehouse to the one I am currently working. Instead of a 15-minute commute to work, I now have a 45-minute drive. It was my desire to live relatively close to the hospital so Cassy wouldn't have to drive too far to and from work.

The forced change I had to do by moving firehouses was difficult because I was leaving my brothers and sisters that I had developed a deep and trusting relationship. It was rejuvenating because Cassy never stepped a foot in my new firehouse, therefore, I never saw a ghost of her, created by my memory, while at work. She had visited me many times at the other firehouse and I believe, if the administration hadn't moved me, I would have stayed and have been in a perpetual state of sadness and have welcomed depression even more than I did after her death. I believe that was one of the biggest changes that helped me move forward with the tragedy in my life.

I noticed a car parked in the McNee's driveway the next morning as I returned home from work. It was going to be tough to think of the driveway and house belonging to someone else other than the McNees but, things change. The difficult part would be programming my brain to think of it as someone else's house, the rejuvenating part, well, I hadn't thought that far ahead as far as having a new neighbor.

After walking into the house, I immediately started some coffee, stripped off my clothes, and walked through the house. As I said earlier, I am routine-oriented and I had developed that routine after I returned home from working on shift. In all honesty, I should do my house walkthrough while still clothed just in case an unfortunate situation had occurred, such as a broken water line, busted glass from someone breaking in, or any other occurrence that would require a person to present themselves fully dressed.

I had picked up my coffee on the way to the Lanai, took a sip, opened the patio door, and froze in place. I could hear a young girl's voice from the backyard of the McNee's.

"Hey mom," she yelled, "I bet when we get my trampoline, I will be able to see over all of the fences in the neighborhood with each jump."

I closed the door and chuckled as I saw my hard shaft deflate instantaneously. I don't have a hard-on all of the time while I walk around naked, but, I did that morning because, sometimes the desire, feeling, and drive for release supersedes normal thought. Masturbating on the lanai was not a common occurrence, but, I would on occasion when the need overpowered my ability to say no.

I am not ashamed to admit that I masturbate. It isn't something that I brag about or make a topic of conversation at the firehouse. Many times, the crew will still joke about masturbating, using it as an attempt to humiliate or tease another firefighter. I typically stay away from teasing and humiliating banter and lean toward self-deprecating humor and light joking.

Like I said, to admit that I masturbate doesn't embarrass me. I am confident in myself and have learned a lot about my likes and dislikes in taste by masturbating. Pretty much everyone masturbates at some point in their lives. I know there are those that choose not to relieve themselves by self-touch, however, the majority of us enjoy the internal jolt of pleasure, energy, and release when we reach orgasm.

Working with a group of guys that often times discuss their likes and dislikes about sex, for 24-hours, being alone for 7 years, and not physically touching someone else other than myself can drive a guy to the pinnacle of self-release. But, that morning, my time was not going to be filled with me stroking in the sun.

By nature, I am not a social person. I didn't feel the need to knock on the new neighbor's door and introduce myself. A planned, "chance" meeting has always been my style. The only exception was when I met Cassy. Our meeting was by chance, but, I didn't leave anything to chance after. I would make sure to glance toward the new neighbor's house while I was mowing the grass today, I had told myself. "Who knows, maybe it will be a single mom and she could use some help with her lawn," I told myself. I laughed at the thought of Mr. McNee calling me and chastising me for mowing his grass. "You let them prove their worth," he would bellow, "let them show you what kind of neighbors they are."

I had put on some old shorts and my mowing shoes, opened the garage door, and stepped into the sun with my mower when I heard the McNee, I mean the new neighbor's garage door open. I looked over and saw a very attractive gal, in her mid 20s step out of the garage.

"Hi," I said as she walked toward the car in the driveway.

"Oh, hi," she responded then walked toward me with her hand extended, "you must be Lee, Mr. and Mrs. McNee said you were the best neighbor ever. I am Chrissy."

"Nice to meet you Chrissy, but I don't know about the best neighbor ever," I said a bit shyly, "but I am your neighbor. It really is nice to meet you. If you need anything, let me know."

"I'll be sure to let my mom know," she said, "we are not very good at finding the studs in the walls when we try to hang our T.V., so, we may need your help with that."

"I would be glad to help," I said, "Was that your daughter in the backyard, I heard earlier?"

"Oh, good grief," she said while putting her hand to her brow and shaking her head back and forth, "she is such a loudmouth. I am sorry if she bothered you."

"No, it wasn't a bother," I laughed, "But, I now know she can't wait to get her trampoline."

"She doesn't have a trampoline," she said while rolling her eyes, "Mom said she would get her one once we get a house. Well, now we have a house, she expects the trampoline to magically appear. Little sisters can be such a pain at times."

"Oh, she is your sister," I remarked, "I thought she was your daughter. I apologize."

"No need to apologize," she said with a smile, "It is just me, my mom, and sister. After we lost dad, mom decided to move out of the old house in order to leave memories and hurt behind, and we have been living in an apartment ever since. She said she thinks she has healed enough to finally move into a house once again."

"I am sorry about your loss," I said, "I am sure it was a difficult time."

"Yeah, it was, and still is," she said softly, "He was a janitor at the hospital where a doctor went crazy and stabbed and killed, two nurses, his wife, and my dad. He injured four other people that miraculously survived, then he stabbed himself to death outside of the ER."