by RC Shivers

Created on: September 19, 2010

The Neighborhood

Smoke and sparks belched from the rusted muffler dragging the asphalt.  Tattered tape stuck where it had been used to hold the muffler in place. The finely manicured green lawns became a muted shade of green-gray as the circus truck sputtered through the neighborhood.

The kids playing ball turned to see the hulking truck pass.  The worn mural on the side advertised the circus strongman with a midget sitting on his shoulder.  The strongman’s handlebar moustache stretched from his cheeks far out and up, tied neatly to the trapeze bar hung from. His arms folded comfortably.

The truck belched a huge cloud of grey smoke laced with flames of gas ignited by the sparks from the dragging muffler. The lawn mowers and hedge trimmers quieted, as attention turned to the cannon blasts from the old truck.  

The bumper bent upwards on both sides.  Dark brown rust spots splattered the hood and doors.  The glare of the sun on the headlights and bumper gave the front of the truck the look of an evil clown smiling at the neighbors as it drove into suburbia.

“Jenny…Bobby, come here.” Bob Thompson called from the Zen garden that flowed gracefully across his grass to John Wilson’s property.

“What do you make of it Bob?” John came out from under his 1959 Corvette to see what the commotion was.

“I don’t even want to think about what it might be, John.”

The toxic exhaust wafted in on a breeze surrounding the men and children as the truck continued past their homes.  The children puffed their cheeks trying to hold their breath. A loud backfire popped the air from their lungs. 

“I tell you what it is, it’s those darn circus people again!”  Cynthia Gilbert stormed through the cloud of exhaust.  Her mouth was leading the way, but she said what they all were thinking.

“Cynthia, calm down, we have no idea who or what it is.” Bob responded.

“They’re going to Nancy Jenner’s old place.  That hag swore she would not sell to anyone who didn’t belong in our neighborhood.” Cynthia retorted back,  “Especially after what happened when “Mr./Mrs.” guy  moved in last summer.”

“Well, we don’t know if it’s the same thing, but if it is, we do what we did then.” John added.

“That guy with half a moustache and beard on one side of his head, and half

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