Luke Dillard moved into Sawyer yesterday across the street from Jayne. He's some sort of missionary. I think he was on a trip in Africa until recently. Being the incredibly social person he is, he has been going around knocking on doors all day inviting people to a party he's hosting.
He hasn't reached my door yet, but word travels quickly around this town. That is, if you talk to people which Jayne obviously doesn't.
He knocks on her door late at night. It's almost poetic. Two strangers meeting for the first time knowing absolutely nothing about each other.
She opens the door, but stays silent.
"Hi!" Luke chirps.
She doesn't answer. He looks awkwardly at his feet, obviously taken aback, before regaining his composure.
"I'm new to the neighborhood, and I've decided to host a party to get to know some faces. I'd like to invite you since you live across the street. Maybe we could talk a bit, get to know each other?"
She barely shakes her head before she closes the door, leaving Luke standing on the porch.
He looks at his feet again. He's clearly not used to Jayne's type of communication. Then again, few people are. After a few seconds, he continues on to the next house.
My family and I live here.
"Did you just come from that house, young man?" my mother asks when she opens the door.
"Yes. I'm Luke. I'm new to the neighborhood and I-"
"Yeah, we know who you are. Sure, we'll come, but you better watch out for that Connemara girl next door," my mother warns sharply. She's often rude, but without trying to be.
"Connemara? As in the horse or as in the town in Ireland?"
"As in Jayne. Jayne Connemara." She says the words slowly and deliberately, emphasizing each word. "She's trouble."
"I'll be careful," he promises before saying goodbye and moving on to the next house.
Smart move, Luke. Once my mother gets started on Jayne, she doesn't stop.
"That girl is trouble," she repeats to me.
"I know," I tell her.
"Don't go near her."
"I won't."
"I mean it."
"I won't go near her."
This is how most conversations go when they're about Jayne, not just with my mother and me, but with every mother and child.
A perpetual fear of her looms in every household.
