Every teacher I had in grade school reassured me that April showers bring May flowers. I couldn’t doubt it when the gloominess of April led into warmer, sunnier May days filled with green grass underfoot and beautiful blossoms peeking out from every corner. I usually only ruminated on this old adage once a year, but when I moved into my new neighborhood, it frequented my head more and more.
It started the day I moved into my tiny cottage. My husband hadn’t arrived yet as he had details to clear up at his old job. I unlocked the doors and directed the movers single-handedly for hours. They finally deposited the last box in the living room and wished me a good day. After closing the door behind them, I sank down into my oversized sofa and let it envelope my body.
Seconds after the sound of the moving truck disappeared, my doorbell rang. I nodded my head to the pleasant tune for a few bars before realizing what it was. I opened the door to two elderly women holding trays of cookies as they argued in hushed tones.
“I got here first. You have to stop copying me.”
“No one would copy you, even if you are two years older.”
“It is one month and you know it.”
My appearance ended the argument, at least momentarily. Two snarls became beautiful smiles as two sets of wrinkled hands held our trays to me. I accepted the cookies, one plate for each hand and returned their smiles though apprehension settled around me.
“I’m sorry ladies. have just arrived and most of my stuff…” I gesture toward the piles of boxes, "I’m afraid the house is not presentable.”
Before I could finish, the younger of the two women shushed me with a raised hand. “No problem, dear. I can come in and help. If you want. My name is May and I live across the street in 504.”
Not to be outdone, her companion offered. “I am April from 502. I would love to help if you need it.”
“That is so sweet, ladies, but I was about take a nap. Thank you so much for these delicious cookies. I look forward to sharing them with my husband.”
“Yes, dear, that sounds lovely. Moving is so tiring.” April said.
“It was a pleasure to meet you.” May added.
“Thank you. I look forward to getting to know you both better.”
They continued to beam at me as I stepped back inside and pushed the door closed with my foot. I could already hear them arguing as I placed the cookies on the kitchen counter and made my way upstairs, where I realized I needed to make the bed. I threw a comforter over the bare mattress and grabbed a pillow. Soon sleep engulfed me.
~~
I woke to my phone ringing relentlessly. I picked it up, squinting at the screen as my eyes adjusted to the twilight gloom seeping through the curtainless windows. My husband’s handsome face smiled back at me.
“Hi, honey,” I answered.
“Oh, thank goodness, Pearl. I was so worried about you.”
“I’m sorry. After the old ladies dropped by, I forgot to let you know we arrived safe.”
“We?”
“Me and all our earthly possessions.”
“Oh good. I thought you picked up a stray dog on the highway.”
“Nope. No such luck.”
“What is this about old ladies?”
I briefly filled him in on our new neighbors and their apparent feud. As I mentioned the cookies they brought, my stomach grumbled loud enough that he encouraged me to get off the phone and find food. He assured me that all was well on his end and he should be with me in a couple of days, and I promised to find out a little more about our feuding grannies across the street.
I honestly considered eating the cookies before dinner. After all, a taste test of the competing cookies could help me crack the case, but my body insisted I start with real food. A quick search on my cell phone revealed that a small pizzeria produced delicious pies, pastas, and pastries about a mile from my house. I decided to walk the short distance.
As I reached the sidewalk, I heard two screen doors squealing across the street. I looked up to find April and May racing down their front steps to catch me first. I considered making a run for it but figured I might miss something interesting or cause a broken hip by doing so. Instead, I stopped at the edge of my yard to let them catch up, which they did at the same time, breathlessly greeting me.
“I forgot to ask your name.” May admitted.
“You must be starving. I wanted to make sure you knew about the lovely little pizza place near here.” April offered at the same time.
“My name is Pearl, and I was on my way to the pizzeria. You are both welcome to join me.”
They looked at each other awkwardly. I almost felt like I was missing a telepathic argument of epic proportions as they stared each other down. Finally, they frowned at each other and turned back to me, offering apologies for not being able to join me. Then they stomped off to their respective homes, leaving me amazed at how such tiny women in soft-soled shoes could stomp their feet through lush grass.
~
In the following months, I got a chance to witness the rivalry between April and May firsthand. Of course, as we left winter, the tension between then grew. April would shower her neighbor’s bushes with a questionable mixture using an old Miracle Grow canister at dusk on the evenings that May had Bible study at the Baptist church.
Suspicious about the poor growth of her prize rose bushes, May waited for April to visit her sister across town and unleashed boxes from the local pet store through a window left ajar to let the fresh spring breeze flow through her house. The whole neighborhood could hear April’s shrill screams at three in the morning when one of the new residents of her house ran across her face. As a night owl, I enjoyed these dramatic prankster moments. As a good neighbor, I didn’t share my observations with either victim of unkind hijinks.
It wasn’t that I didn’t get opportunities. As my house sat halfway between theirs, it seemed the two ladies were competing for my attention. My husband laughed that they courted me more ardently than he ever. Otherwise, he didn’t take much interest in their feud. I tried to ask each of them about it when they showed up alone with cake or pie, but their lips reminded sealed on the nexus of their hatred. They weren’t as silent about each other’s shortcomings, so I got to hear some biased local gossip spanning back many decades.
It all seemed rather harmless until the night that all three of the cop cars in the local police department’s car pool screeched down our street with lights on and sirens blaring. My husband followed me out onto the porch, trying to pull me back inside the house.
“I have to know what is happening.” I informed him as I pulled free.
I watched in horror as the cops raced up the stairs of May’s porch. They didn’t bother knocking. They slammed through the door like it was wet paper instead of sturdy oak. Soon, they came back outside with May in handcuffs. As they lead her down the steps, her voice carried across the street.
“She had it coming. You all know she had it coming. She killed my rose bushes. My prize winning rose bushes.” The officer to her left interrupted her, loudly reminding her of her rights. When he finished, she continued loudly proclaiming, “I know my rights. I don’t need a lawyer. I did what I did. April ruined everything. Just because she was a whole month older than me and got to use our father’s name, she thought no one would ever pick me over her. Well, someone did. I did. And that, officer, is why I had to murder my sister."
~~Someone out there was thrilled by my murderously funny pun. Hope you have wonderful plans for May. Right now, I have cake and Star Wars on my agenda for the month. Okay, maybe just for that first week.~~
