Broken Defender

Chapter Three ~ The Wharton House

The house across the street was quaint and attractive. Its firm stone walls held together beautifully, its walkway was clean and cut, unlike our walkway. It had not been so beautiful in the past though. Its last occupants, the Wharton's, were a young and very unhappy married couple. They had grown tired of Cariton though, and eventually moved to the city in hopes of a better life there. I envied them... disregarding whether or not they were happy, I envied their absence from Cariton. The Wharton's had not kept the stone house very attractive. Their lawn, like ours, had been in desperate need of mowing, and one of the front windows had cracked, and needed replaced.

It wasn't until the real-estate agency got ahold of the place that it had been restored to its former glory. It looked perfect now. And though a simple move across the street would not have sufficed for my desperate need of escape, I envied its cunning exterior. I made my way up the street to my home. Though a wooden fence currently inhibited my view, my eyes were fixated on the plain roof of the Wharton's old house... the house that would now be lived in by a new family. I reminded myself that I would no longer refer to this place as the Wharton house, but that it would soon have a new surname to host. I continued along my familiar path toward home, wondering when this new family would arrive. A week?

I turned the last corner, the large fence no longer hiding the view of my block. To my surprise, there was a large moving van in front of the Wharton's house. I stopped in my tracks. They were already here? That was surprising. I walked toward my house slowly, straining my neck in hopes of seeing people. I was so curious as to who my next-door neighbors would be. It wasn't every day someone moved to town, and I almost hoped my mom would want to do something embarrassing like take them a pie, just so that I could meet these strangers. Strangers were a novelty to me. I looked upon strangers with such curiosity. They were human beings... human beings that had lived for as long as I had, some of them longer, that I had never come in contact with. That was so interesting to me. What were they doing yesterday? Where were they two years ago? What lead them here? Why was I so curious?

A thin woman walked out of the house, and my eyes focused in on her small frame, following her down their front sidewalk. She glided toward the moving van quickly, standing by its side and waiting, simply waiting. I had stopped walking now, watching her. She hadn't seen me so I didn't feel like this was much of an intrusion. After her, came a tall man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed casually, but had a look of regal-ness to him, like he was a lawyer, or a banker... and he appeared strong, like he worked out a lot. Maybe he was a cop, or a military man. Behind him finally, lagged a boy. He looked to be about my age, maybe a bit older. I squinted my eyes in hopes of catching a good view of his appearance. He was tall, and well built, with broad shoulders, and seemingly strong arms. Strong enough at least, that I could notice beneath the cuffed sleeves of his blue polka dotted button down shirt. With this he wore tattered, dirty blue jeans, and work boots. He was cute... from what I could see... I hadn't expected that. He ran his fingers through the mop of curly brown hair that bounced back in front of his face automatically. His expression, though distant from my vision, appeared agitated.

I watched as he followed his father into the back of the moving van, grabbing onto his decided end of a large bookcase. He lifted it strongly, and slowly, steadily backed out of the van. His gaze fell behind his feet as he advanced in small and precise movements. His mother stepped away, crossing her arms as he descended the ramp. The bookcase looked pretty big, and it made me nervous just watching them move it. I found myself nervously twisting a strand of my hair as he struggled. His dark eyebrows pulled together in stress, and he bit down firmly on his lip, gripping at the case. He finally cleared the ramp, and waited on his dad to make it down also. The bookcase was angled down now, which put more weight on the boy's end. I could tell he was losing his grip in waiting for his dad, and his arms flexed around the bookshelf, a look of frustration crossed over his face. He then readjusted his grip, causing the bookcase to jostle a bit.

"Hurry." He grunted, loud enough that I could hear at my distance.

"Move it up. Up!" His dad ordered in a bold and commanding voice.

The situation was only getting more tensing. I glanced down, too scared to see what would happen next. I started to walk again, abandoning the event completely. I was scared he would drop the bookshelf and it break into a million pieces. I don't know why I cared. It wasn't my bookshelf after all... but the nerves building around his trembling frame had transferred into me and I just needed to escape them instantly. I made it to my doorstep, walking into the house without taking a second look back. So these were our neighbors then?