THE HOUSE - Part Two - Finally

THE HOUSE

Part Two - Finally

Tanika Smith Wheatley

I hardly recognize myself. Gone, is the old fashioned female who loved lovely old architecture, beautiful homes that looked as though they grew up among nature; flowers, and surrounded by hills, trees and rivers – gone is the carefree, fun loving girl who loved to dance, and party – I used to wonder why old women were so grouchy – now I know it is because at some stage, we realize that there was no longer anything to be happy about. I have become as callous and cold as my environment; as the concrete block house my husband built in the empty plains of the desert…

When I was young, I lived in the city – across the parklands and river, the city lights at night that reflected in the dark river were so pretty, everything (including my job, was within walking distance (so were my favorite nightclubs), and I’d have my meals at the numerous cafes and restaurants that city living provided – such fun – at first, until I realized that the church bells tolled very early on Sunday mornings when I was trying to sleep-in after dancing the late Saturday nights away at the nightclubs, and also until I realized that the football fans enjoyed fighting as loudly as they could (and begging to be let in to urinate – really?!? Are there no toilet facilities available at the football stadium? Luckily, I was on the top floor but those on the ground floor were too scared of the loud fighting footie fans not to let them into our otherwise secure building) as they passed on their way home after football games, and the regular playing of bagpipes (there was some kind of an army barracks complete with memorial rose-park in town also) not to mention the ambulances going to the nearby hospitals, as well as the normal traffic sounds of everyday city living…

So when my boyfriend and I were considering moving in together, it was agreed that living in his latest home that he’d recently purchased in the suburbs would have to be much better than living in town but unfortunately, it wasn’t until I’d moved in how wrong that decision was – we get at least three sirens a day (peak hours and noon) in the suburbs, compared to approximately three sirens a week, in town (except on public holidays – a mystery at first, until we suspected that they must use the area for ambulance driving training and practice) – there is a freight train that screeches – when I first heard it, my first evening in our house, I thought that there was an army helicopter landing on our roof and the next day when commuting into town to work, while waiting for the passenger train, a freight train screeched past, and I went deaf – while travelling into town, I thought that I’d have to go to the hospital instead of work, but by the time our train pulled into the station, my hearing had returned, so I continued on to my job - BUT – over time, I was going deaf regularly (the freight train goes past several times a day, and night) and after years of that, accompanied with pain in my ears – also, there is a regular helicopter usually in the afternoons that I presumed was going to the nearby hospital, until we noticed that it also actually regularly went round and round at night, around midnight, not going anywhere, another mystery, until we presumed it must be also a training procedure – but why over houses? They wear headphones to protect their ears from the noise of their helicopters, yet they seem to think that the people in the homes beneath them, that they are flying round and round over for at least an hour, cannot hear them?!?

CITY LIFE IS ACTUALLY A LOT QUIETER ON A DAILY, EVEN A WEEKLY BASIS, THAN IN THE SUBURBS - WHO WOULD HAVE GUESSED?!?

But that’s not all. There are more prowlers and robbers in the suburbs also. We have had them regularly go through our house, and steal our things – we have had all the vehicles we have had over the years broken into and things stolen from them also – we have had the side gates locked, they still broke in – we have had them barricaded, and they have actually watched us, sneering at us, while trying to break through the barricades – we made sure that the garage was always locked, we installed CCTV cameras – this helped, but the everlasting noise never stopped – so we went into the countryside – the countryside in this country is desert – and for the first time in my life, I, who always preferred lush forest previously, now loved the quiet of the vast, silent desert…

My husband and I have different tastes – he used to enjoy buying old places, renovating, and selling – but because I helped renovate our (his latest) house in the suburbs, we compromised, and made a lovely home with lush plants and trees – it is not so easy growing (and maintaining) plants in the desert, so I let him finally make what he preferred, a modern concrete and glass home for us with minimal plants – getting older, I was happy just to have peace and quiet – I was happy to spend my time around a large fire pit watching the stars, the house was just a shelter for me, after living in the city and suburbs, I loved the peace and quiet so much…

But someone found us; a few young thugs speeding in their noisy car, with damage and murder in mind, if we hadn’t have had bullet proof glass – but the modern high-tech house that my husband built saved us, the details in the story titled ‘The House’, but ultimately, they and their car were smashed and buried under the fire pit outdoor roofless entertaining alfresco area, where we spent many lovely evenings enjoying a good Merlot or Shiraz under the stars.

But my husband is under there too now, as was his dying wish – so are our dogs – our two beautiful, cute, fur companions - and when I feel as though I am near to death, I will join them as well…

So, you might be able to imagine how after years of noise and being broken into regularly might result in a once happy young woman becoming a grouchy old one – the young girl who loved traditional old fashioned beautiful homes surrounded by lush hills and plants now appreciates her simple, square concrete and glass block in the empty, silent, vast desert – and who now feels just as cold as the concrete – and just as empty as the desert – no longer the naïve girl putting up with the noisy life that other people seem to need and take for granted while criminals do not make it easy for them – no longer the laughing girl who like everyone else, at first, thought that that sort of life was normal…

I sigh as I sip on my latest favorite wine, I used to think that I would miss dancing, but I do not – I used to think that I would miss shopping, buying pretty clothes and shoes, but I do not – I used to think that I would miss partying, socializing, but I do not…

I do miss my husband though, he was a natural comedian; in fact, the first words I ever said to him were, ‘you’re a funny man’, I used to also tell him that he should be on the stage…

I also miss the dogs, but not enough to replace them – I’d tell myself that if a dog outlived me, it may survive in the desert, but then, I argued that it may not and I couldn’t do that to any animal…

I’m content with my own companionship – I still paint, and write, (I’m an author and artist) and make sure the wine cellar is full of my favorites…

In fact, it was while enjoying one of those favorites, in front of the fire pit, one evening, when I heard a car – a loud car, just like that first one that came screeching onto our property when we first moved and built out here – I groaned – then smiled - calmly put my glass down, and moved into the house…

Like my husband did once before, I stood in the front window – and like that first time once before, they appeared, swerving and crazily screeching towards our house, laughing hysterically as they did so – their laughter, more annoying to my ears (don’t forget, after years of city and suburban life, I can’t stand noise) than the screeching car; after all, it is the laughing thugs that are making the car crazily skid and screech…

I put my hands up, ready to use as my husband did once before – the bullet proof window is also a tech panel which when the hands waved in certain places, activates the large concrete panels in the large outdoor alfresco to become defense mechanisms…

But unlike my husband, I am not going to just finish them off like he did, I had something else in mind…

So instead of having the first two panels rise just as the previous car got there and crashed into it, I waited until this car was actually on the panels so when the panels rose, the car was tipped over – you should have seen their faces, horrific expressions as their upturned car was now sliding across the large alfresco – right into the huge fire pit – even then, when it was obvious that they were going to die, one of them pointed his rifle at me and shot and looked even more shocked when he realized that the glass window was bullet proof, did not even crack – then, before they went into the fire pit, I raised the fire pit just before they did – of course, that opened up the large, gaping underground grave and the car slid into it after which I then turned the firepit upside down, and it covered the gap, fire falling onto those below – the fire now underneath ignited the petrol, which exploded – the strong panels shattering and flying in all directions, the underground foundations of the house shattering also – the house and I started sinking, breaking up, falling into the inferno and for the first time in years, I, the grumpy old woman, laughed happily. “Now I am finally going to join you, my beloved husband – and now, we are finally going to get some real – rest and peace…”

THE END