Beyond The Gate

I don't care that the neighbors think I'm crazy. I don't care that my family doesn't visit me anymore. And I don't care that I haven't left my house in 15 years. With all the risks out there I'm not willing to put my life in jeopardy again. I'm not afraid of what happened. No, not at all. Just fed up. Besides, It's not safe for a 76-year-old woman to be walking around all by herself. I might sprain my ankle. Or be mugged. And with all the Uber Eats and Amazon services I don't have to leave.

Ozzy and I are happy here, content and cozy. He is so precious when he curls up and lies on my lap. We love watching the weather channel together. Toy Poodles are so easy to manage, and I adore that we sport matching hairstyles. The weather man says a thunderstorm is coming this evening. I hope it won't be too bad. I'm afraid the tree in the backyard might fall down on the house. One big gust of wind, then boom! Oh dear. I hope not. It'll be fine. The weather is never right anyways. My little angels will watch over me. I'm referring to my Precious Moments collection of course. I own 42 unique porcelain dolls now. Perfectly displayed on shelves around my living room. My grandfather clock chimes 7 times. Tea time.

Steam fogs my glasses as I pour water over my rose tea. Black, just how I like it. Outside my window a man is walking around in my backyard. For a brief moment I feel faint and almost spill my tea, but realize it's my neighbor Josh. After complaining about the smell, he offered to come over once a week to clean up Ozzy's poo. He's such a nice neighbor.

The clock chimes 8 times. The wind is rattling the back window. That storm is really starting to roll in. I best let Ozzy out for a potty before it gets too bad.

"Ozzy, want to go potty?" He is such a good listener.

OK, here we go. This never gets easier. I place my trembling hand on the cold metal handle of the sliding door.

"One. Two... Three!" A gust of stormy wind shoots into the kitchen as I quickly slide open the door. Ozzy scampers outside. I slam the door. The rotten dread of anxiety creeps in my brain, as Ozzy finds a spot in the tall grass of my narrow yard to do his business. Darkness invades my vision, I have to grip the counter as my legs wobble.

"Come on, hurry."

The wind is beginning to pick up, swaying the trees back and forth like dramatic dancers tossing their hands into the air. To my absolute horror, Ozzy is at the back gate. And it's open! My heart jumps into my throat. Josh forgot to shut the gate. I grab the phone hanging on the wall, my nerves weaken my grip to hold the phone in my hand. I dial Josh's number, and the power goes out. The phone produces the sounds of silence. I drop the phone and run to the sliding door. Ozzy is still in the backyard, thank god! My sweaty hand pulls the door open, fierce wind almost knocks me over.

"Josh!" I yell from my kitchen towards the neighbors house.

"Josh!" my voice whimpers against the might of the storm.

Across the yard Ozzy curiously steps over the threshold into the alley.

"Ozzy No!" I clap my hands to grab his attention, but it is no use. "Stupid dog!"

A burst of ferocious wind slams into the house thumping against my body. CRASH! I turn as Precious Moments fall off their shelves! The wind whips through the house pulling my porcelain dolls off the top shelves, as if the invisible hand of Satan was ripping them away. SMASH! Glass dolls rained down. They'll smash my head and pierce my brain. But if I go outside I might be struck by lightning. I have not left this house in so long, I can't do it. Ozzy loomed around the back gate sniffing the alley. CRASH! A doll missed my shoulder by an inch, scaring me through the door.

I stand on the back deck, stupefied. The tall grass bends in the storm. At the end of the yard Ozzy stepped beyond the threshold, into the alley.

"Oz..." Pure fright turned me mute. Slowly, I step down into the yard. It begins to rain, thick, icy drops. Clouds above raced all around like gods battling in the sky.

Now halfway across the yard, I could see Ozzy's white tail. Then I hear it. The cry from the tree. The ancient maple rocked back-and-forth in the storm. CREEEEK! I fought against my shell shock, making it to the back gate, but there was no Ozzy. I stood at the precipice of the yard. Darkness and danger lies beyond that gate. I could be struck by a car. Or mugged, again. But Ozzy. Standing for a moment in the cold rain, I battled within myself.

"One. Two... Three! I took one brave step out of the safety of my yard, and into the unknown.

Down the gravel alleyway two houses away, soaking wet, was Ozzy sniffing a ripped open garbage bag.

"Ozzy! Get over here!" Ozzy perked up and began trotting over to me. CREEEEK! I turned around just in time to see the old maple violently crash down on top of me.

I lean over to take a sip from my rose tea, now iced tea. I don't want to burn myself. I've been in the hospital for 3 weeks, with 3 left to go. They say it will be a long recovery, you see it takes a 76-year-old woman longer to heal. And you can bet when I get home, I'll never leave the house again.