Disturbing the Peace

The warmth of spring was really no warmth at all when the sale sign on the house across the street from me came down. I’m a rational man, I go to work, once a week I go to church and then after all of that, I come home in the evening to my two-bedroom house - a small affair big enough for me and a guest - to lie down and sleep. I felt myself compelled to see who was moving in across the way and so, I got out a set of binoculars - I will have to inform you about my deteriorating eyesight, it is not what it used to be. I waited all day on my day off for that van to arrive moving the new people into that large, gothic piece of architecture fit for a family of four. But nobody arrived. Not a single person went in or out on that day. I waited the next day and the next but there was still no sight of a family. Then, one day I came home after work and church to find the lights were on in the house opposite. Now this was strange because our town is a quiet little town. It was ten at night as well. Lights normally go off all across town by nine with only the street lights staying on for safety reasons. I didn’t see anyone new at church and I hadn’t seen any vans or cars pull in or out of the driveway recently. But, alas, I had been at work all day - working on renovating the church to its former glory. Whatever was inside was going to have to wait until the next morning - but I swear on my life, I could not believe my eyes when I saw it.

Not a family. Not a couple. No. Just a single man.

One thing I knew was that this town was not wanting of such a man. This town wouldn’t like it once they learned that a man was living by himself in such a big house meant for a whole family to live in. I went to the market the next day and even though it wasn’t packed with people, there was still the large lady who sold apples standing there as she usually did with her six children all cramped in a three bedroom house. It was definitely not fair on her and so, I took my time before I strolled over to her. She was wearing an apron that was ripped, her children were playing in the mud and the strange man who had just moved in opposite me was nowhere to be seen. “Nice weather we’re having…” She began packing apples for me. I was planning on making an apple pie when I got home and taking it to the old woman who lived at the end of my street as she looked after me as a child shortly after my mother died. I did that every week, took her some kind of treat. It was the least I could do.

It wasn’t really ‘nice’ weather though, it was weather that seemed to be thoroughly average and anything other than rainy is pretty much over-indulged upon. “Well, it is better than normal I guess…” I led into a next statement before she had time to fill the gap between conversation and silence. “I guess that person who’s bought the house opposite mine’s going to be enjoying the nice greenery of the back garden if it’s been well-kept…”

She looked up, shocked and her jaw dropped open in surprise. “Sold? That place?” She shuffled around and met me at the side of the shop where I could see her properly. “You can’t be serious that there’s only one person living there all by themselves. I mean, that place is huge…” I nodded my head back at her. “It’s an expensive place yes, and I know us townsfolk can’t afford it - but only one person in that big, old place? That’s madness. Who allowed that?” She scrunched up her nose and her voice became a squeaky kind of high-pitched towards the question at the end of her little speech that was an indirect way of saying ‘what are rich city folk coming here for?’ I stepped away and took the apples, put them in my backpack and shrugged my shoulders.

“I can’t imagine.” I said. With that, we both said our goodbyes and I carried on to work. I was still renovating the church and it still needed some adjustments before it was complete enough to allow people back inside without breaking the safety hazard laws.

As I walked into the church, there he was standing with his back to me. Briefcase in his hand and suit and tie, dressed like he was going to be working in an office for the day, he had his back straight and his hair slicked back. He didn’t even turn around once all the workers were in for the day. I started, almost immediately even, to put up the ladders that we were going to use to work on the architecture closest to the ceiling, there were gargoyles that needed sealing down or else they could fall and knock someone clean dead. Imagine getting hit with over 50kg of solid stone. He began to walk up to me just as I was setting down the last ladder and getting together the sealing supplies.

“I’m your new supervisor…” He held out his hand as if I was going to shake it. My hands were covered in dust and so I showed them to him and he took his hands away.

“Sorry…” I began. “You live opposite me. You moved in the other day, right? The large house on the end of the street - you live near…” I realised he didn’t know the old lady on the other end of his own street and probably hadn’t cared to meet her. It was no matter. “You live opposite me, anyway.”

“Oh I see…” He said politely.

“Can I ask something?” I lowered my voice as if about to ask something completely absurd and maybe even a little offensive. “Why do you need such a big house when it’s only you in there?” I was whispering now. I was hoping he may find my question out of concern for his mental health and not out of hatred for his selfishness.

“Well…” He started. “Since you asked nicely, I’ll give you an honest answer.” He paused for a moment and took me by the shoulder as if I were his son or something. “I quite like living in a big house, you know. I grew up in a big house. I have always lived in a big house and so, to downsize for me would be quite difficult…” He sighed. “That’s the honest truth if there was one.”

I ran my fingers through my hair as he took his hand from my shoulder. At first when I caught glimpses of him I thought he was probably no more than thirty-five, but when I got that close to him, the lines in his forehead, his hairline moving backwards and his chin looking like putty were far more apparent. This man had to be at least fifty years’ old. His hand slumped to his side and I walked off to commit back to my job, unsure what to make of this ‘honest truth’.

By the time I was on my lunch break, I saw the apple market stall close and its seller walk right up to me afterwards. “I was thinking about what you said.” She looked around as I did, thinking there was something I was looking for in particular. I told her that the ‘new guy’ was my new supervisor. “New? You’ve never had a supervisor…”

“I know. But this guy seems to be from some big company…” I chewed on the edge of a cheese sandwich, not quite eating it, not quite not eating it. It could have been nerves, but most likely it was repulsion.

“Do you think he’s going to stick around afterwards?” She started back at me in a whisper this time. “You know, when everything is finished - do you think he’ll stay here or pack up?”

“Beats me as to why he’s here now…” I shrugged my shoulders and put the remainder of the nibbled sandwich back in the box, closed the lid and stuffed the box amongst the apples and papers lying around in my backpack.

“Well, you wouldn’t mind if I tell a couple of people to keep an eye on him. I don’t particularly trust city folks who wear suits around my town…” She had lived here for five generations or more. Each one of them were apple sellers and each one of them earned a sturdy living. Her eldest daughter was already starting to sell her own apple picks like her mother and so, the legend continues for another generation.

I shook my head, noting that I had no business in watching over this guy. He just rubbed me up the wrong way as all. When she left, I saw her discussing things with other women in the town, other sellers and women who worked the market stalls. I saw her discuss things with the washerwomen, I saw her walk over to the daughter of the man who owned the town’s only hospital and tell her as well. It was quite remarkable how many people this woman knew and how resourceful she was in getting the word around that there was something wrong on the opposite side of my street.

That night I walked back home once again, the supervisor was already in his, having left about two hours before we ourselves were dismissed from our jobs. I couldn’t understand why there was a supervisor as we had not only not had one before, but we were perfectly capable of working without one. I saw him by the lights of his windows as I got dressed and went downstairs to switch off all my appliances and lights. Seeing him relaxing in front of a big-screen television with a beer and the lights all on was a bit strange, especially as we all turned ours off at night. I took it upon myself to tell him since he was new here.

I crossed the road in the weather which only an hour ago was perfectly fine and now, as the pressure dipped, I was sure it would rain before the next morning. Perching outside with my legs a nasty kind of cold, I rapped upon his door. I grabbed the hook and rapped again. This time, he opened it and stepped outside slightly, but not enough to catch the cold breeze. “Oh, it’s you again!” He was happy to see me and yet, a look of confusion dawned over his face in wondering what I could possibly want. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” I started. “We have this rule in town that by dead of 10pm we all switch off our lights and appliances. Well, anything that can make bright and weird lighting in the darkness. It’s mainly because of our elderly population. We are always trying to be considerate towards them. I was wondering if you could possibly do the same. It’s really an unwritten rule around here…”

“Well, 10pm is hardly nighttime, is it?” I could tell he was annoyed.

“The elderly go to bed at about 9pm.”

“I don’t care for the elderly, son…” He snapped back at me once I tried to reason with him. “I genuinely don’t care for them…”

“You cannot possibly only care about yourself…”

“In fact, I do.” He gave a sigh. “You see, I get up and go to work the following day, unlike the elderly who just sit there wasting away, using up valuable resources on doing nothing for anyone.” He stepped back into his house and I looked at him, not with shock but with a calmness that I think scared him a little. “It’s my second day tomorrow so I start at 10am and finish at 4pm. If I want to enjoy myself, it’s going to be now. I’m a hardworking man…”

That wasn’t the truth exactly. Everyone else went to work everyday at 8am and didn’t come home until late - it differed according to what you did, but I would start home at 8pm and stop off at some friends on the way to say hello, reaching home for about 9:30pm. It was a twelve hour work day and the only reason our friend here showed up early is because it was his first day. I knew that now. “Have it your way, sir…” I whispered gently.

“I definitely will…” He shut the door in my face and went back to doing what he was doing anyway - watching television with lights blaring out of the window. The man next door to me was almost ninety years’ old and I was just worried that all of this would not only wake him up, but wouldn’t allow him to get back to sleep either.

The next day was difficult as we were to see each other again at work and this time, I was there before him. He didn’t say hello, didn’t make eye contact and didn’t come up to me to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing and so - I just carried on as if he weren’t there. That was my first big mistake. In a loud and bellowing voice he called my name a few hours into the day and told me I was working too slowly. The truth was that I wanted to measure everything to fit beforehand so that I didn’t have to measure as I was going along - it was the way I’d always done things. At lunch, I decided to buy myself an apple and sit on the stairs of the church eating it. Grey clouds hung and pressure had dropped meaning that rain was going to be on the way by nightfall. He stepped outside and on to the stairs and, as I stared at his overly clean shoes I saw the market stalls and they were whispering. Whispering like they had never whispered before.

The man went over to the apple stall where I had bought a red, shiny apple to eat with my lunch just minutes before. He asked for a red apple himself and, with a look of disgust, the lady handed him a rotting red apple. He threw it to the floor. “Give me a fresh one…” he said firmly. She put up her ‘closed’ sign and pulled the shield down over her stall at once. Walking around to the front of the stall, she scooped the rotten apple off the floor and put it in the bin.

“Try to be tidier.” She looked him straight in the face and as he glanced around him, one by one all the other market stalls closed themselves against him. “Nobody wants a customer who throws our hard-earned produce on the floor.” She dropped her voice to a low whisper. “We know all about you, don’t worry.”

I walked home that evening and decided not to see many friends, instead I saw one and went on my way back to my own house. At the end of the street, there was the man once again. He was walking with his briefcase at his side and his head held high. A friend of mine shouted to me from across the street and I waved back, not wanting to stop for drinks, I simply carried on walking and waving at the same time. He then turned on the supervisor. “Hey, I know you…” He called out. “You’re the idiot that leaves his lights on. You’re the guy that threw the apple on the floor. You’re the guy who lives in a massive house all by himself and doesn’t work a regular day…” It felt like a list of things that would never end and, if my friends knew it that meant so did the rest of the town.

The supervisor was heating up and even though I was standing quite far away down the road, I inched backwards so that whatever was coming didn’t come towards or anywhere near me. The supervisor though, simply replied, “Look, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to…”

“An idiot, that’s who!” My friend shouted from across the road. “An inconsiderate idiot.”

“I assure you, you will hear from my lawyers for disturbing the peace…”

“You’re the one that came here pal! Go back to New Jersey!” With that, my friend slammed his door shut and I crossed the road almost immediately so that I wouldn’t encounter my supervisor on the route I was taking and could get to my house easier.

The next day came in and the lady at the apple market wore a frown so great, I thought one of her five children had drowned in the small river going through the west side of town. “No, it’s not that…” She sighed. “My father passed away last night.” I was shocked, I didn’t know her father but I was still shocked. I had never seen her this sad. “He was such a caring man and now, well now he’s gone.”

“Jesus Christ…” I began, “How- I mean how did he?”

“Heart attack.”

I hung my head and shook it.

Her voice lowered and she leaned into me, frowning now more than ever with tears in her eyes. “You know what they’re saying around town, don’t you?” I knew, but I felt it nice to ask so that she had something to say. “They’re saying it was all him…” The supervisor, of course it was. “My father lived a door or so away from him and was saying in the days leading up to his death that this guy would leave the lights blaring. My father couldn’t sleep, you know.” My eyes widened. Her father was the old man I was worried about the first night the supervisor had left his lights on. I inhaled deeply as my eyes got wider and wider to the point they would burst from my skull. “I’ve told the police already. Look how they’re roaming, waiting for him…”

“What did you tell them?”

“That he’s disturbing the peace.”

I nodded in agreement. She continued. “I told them all of the things you told me. I told them that he hadn’t paid for the apple when he threw it on the floor and therefore, that is destruction of property. That apple was still technically mine.” She huffed. “You know how the police are about newcomers, right?” A smile wiped her face and she leaned back, satisfied with herself.

Then we saw him.

Supervisor approaching, I ran back into the church hoping he wouldn’t see me talking to the apple market lady when I was supposed to be working. Our casual work days made us far more productive than just standing around for hours and hours on end thinking around problems that would be easier to solve after a break. But we still worked extra hard. He did, in fact, see me. “Where the hell have you been?” He bellowed. “You were supposed to be at work three hours ago…” He was about to shout when he saw the police begin to converge. “What’s going on here then?”

One of the officers yelled. “Freeze!” Another. “Put your hands on your head and don’t move.” They began to read him his rights before another officer came around the back and tightened the grip on some handcuffs on to his wrists.

“But you haven’t told me what I’ve done…” He said.

“You’ve been disturbing the peace. Does that help?” An officer replied

“What the hell does that even mean?” They never told him. They simply took him away.

The lady from the apple stall campaigned long and hard to have him done for the death of her father, and I agreed since I was actually initially worried about him. The elderly population was huge here and it was done thing for everyone to pitch in and look after them properly. Eventually, the motion was passed and he was done for involuntary manslaughter. On top of all of this, he was fined and sentenced to three to five years in jail.

When he got out, he came back to our town, bringing a number of city dwellers with him to celebrate his release from prison and reinstatement to his job as supervisor of the company I worked for. He came back to that huge house which only he lived in and that music was blaring all night. Drinking, lights and the works. He had learned nothing. I watched from my window as the lady from the apple stall stood beneath it and tossed tiny stones at me. I walked down and with her, we sealed off the perimeter as a gathering crowd formed around the supervisor’s house. Nearly every person under fifty from town was here now. Completely sealing off the area, we then got the go ahead from the police to chain the doors shut and block the windows. Since the curtains were closed, nobody was the wiser about it.

And with that - we burned the house down with everyone inside.