Good Neighbors

*tap*

*tap tap*

*tap tap tap*

Grunting unhappily, Riley peeked out from under the covers and opened one eye. Blearily peering around the room, an unwilling resumption of consciousness was met with a firm knock at the brownstone apartment’s front door. The tapping at the first-floor bedroom window had clearly been a calculated effort to receive acknowledge of the uninvited guest’s presence.

“Hello?” Riley opened the front door to determine the source of the unwelcome intrusion on a Monday morning’s sleep; it was barely dawn, and it had been a late (early?) night. The door opened to the appearance of a slight individual in an odd assortment of what seemed to be rags and other materials, likely intended to insulate against the cold winds one would expect during a Boston winter. As a middling-height individual, Riley was surprised to see that the caller was barely shoulder-height. It was difficult to make out any features, although that wasn’t unexpected on a frigid February morning, especially given recent circumstances.

“G…good morning!” stammered the heavily-bundled intruder. “We haven’t met yet, and I’m so sorry to disturb your rest, but I wonder if you could help. I have a package to deliver, and I simply cannot move it on my own. Would you be willing to help a neighbor?”

After working an unexpected double-shift at Mass General, Riley wasn’t thrilled about the idea of venturing out into the cold on a Monday morning. However, the polite query and the requester’s diminutive stature was enough to rally Riley’s protective nature. “Give me a moment to get dressed, and I’ll be right out. I need coffee… want some, or should we stop at Dunks on the way?”

“Oh, bless you, child. I’m sure there’ll be a great reward for you! Please take the time to make your coffee, as I’ve no need to stop for any; I’ll be right here waiting.” The bundled figure settled down into a crouch on the bottom step of the stoop, pulling something out of the voluminous folds of their tattered accoutrements. Riley sighed and headed back into the apartment to make some coffee and get dressed for an excursion into frigid early-morning weather.

Searching for the carelessly-discarded hat and gloves from last night, Riley muttered, “’Oh, there’s a great place in my friend’s brownstone!’ they said. ‘It’ll be so convenient for work!’ they said. Hmph.” With coffee poured and a mind to complete the task quickly, a warmly-cocooned Riley emerged and confronted the requester. “Okay, where’re we headed?”

“Oh, just a ways away. It’s not far!”

As the caffeine kicked in, the questions that should have been asked previously come flooding into Riley’s mind. Oh brother; what am I in for? “What are we moving? Should I call to see if I can get some friends to help?”

“Oh no, a sturdy one such as yourself should be able to do the trick alone, no question!”

“Once we get where we’re going, where are we headed?”

“We aren’t going far, and it won’t take much of your time; I promise. You seemed very sleepy, so I hated to wake you, but I really do need your assistance.”

Riley pondered that last bit. Was there an emphasis on “your”? Or was that just an under-slept, over-caffeinated assumption? Ah, well; let’s just get the job done. Need more sleepings.

As they trudged down the street, headed towards Mass Ave, the bundled figure ran a continuous narrative of the landmarks and people they passed:

“Oh, that building was so lovely, but it’s fallen into such disrepair! So sad. I heard that some of the tenants raised the money to buy it, so hopefully they can bring it back to its original beauty… there’s so much life in there!”

“That poor child works so very, very hard; I hope she gets that promotion she’s been working towards. Her children are so sweet and polite. It’s hard to see such a nice family struggle.”

“Hmph. Glad to see that dilapidated heap go. Too bad it was bought by one of those fancy-schmancy real estate firms. Hope they don’t try to buy up every nook and cranny. Lotsa nice people in this neighborhood, and it’d be a shame to see them lose their homes because of some shady business dealings, trying to take over the whole neighborhood.”

Eventually the unlikely pair arrived at another brownstone building, much like the others in this area of the city. Riley sighed as they slowed and eventually stopped in front of a much-battered door with four granite steps. “Is this it?”

“Yes, this is it. You should find a box, yea big, just outside the second apartment door on the first floor.” Riley’s cloaked companion gestured in a cubic fashion, roughly two feet in each direction. “The box should be clearly marked with the address, and all you really need to do is carry it there and ring the doorbell, but I do hope you’ll wait until someone answers. I’m afraid that I have to see to another errand right now, so I have to leave you to it. I’m sure you understand…”

Riley sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Okay, I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Bless you, child. May you receive precisely that which you deserve!” The tattered figure beamed at Riley and shuffled on down the street, apparently presuming that the requested tasks would proceed without supervision.

Riley proceeded into the hallway and found the parcel exactly as described; roughly two feet cubed, and clearly marked with an address only a block or two from home. Huh. That’s convenient. After picking up the package, though, a problem presented itself: there were simply not enough hands to accommodate the coffee cup and the parcel. Oh well, I guess I’ll leave it here and hope it’s still here when I get back. It’s a good mug; I can afford to make the quick trip back to grab it. At least this box is light. Wow. It’s *really* light. Oh well, here we go.

With another quick glance at the address, Riley trudged down the busy city street with the awkward package. During the walk, reminded of the mysterious companion’s observations, some surrounding details that otherwise would have been ignored came to light:

Hey, that’s a really neat stained-glass piece over the doorway. Huh. I’m surprised I never noticed that before.

It’s nice to see kids outside, even in this cold weather. Too bad that old playground’s so run down. I bet they’d have a blast over there, the way it used to be when it was installed. I wonder how much it would cost to restore it.

Wow, I never noticed that shop down in that sub-level. How long has that been there? Maybe I should stop in there sometime and see what’s up.

The street on the address came into view, and after a quick turn, the goal was but a few steps away. Glancing at the address one last time, it was clear which number on the directory was the goal. The name listed was an odd one: Dannan. Riley pressed the button and heard a distant chime from within the building; after a brief interval, a melodic voice inquired, “Yes?”

“Uhm. Hi, I have a package for you?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, a neighbor of mine asked that I pick this up and get it to you. I didn’t quite catch their name, but they assured me that this was the right place, since it’s listed on the box.”

“I see. A moment, please.”

The door opened, and a tall, slender, dark-haired woman appeared. “Good day. I see you’ve met my friend, Brigid.”

“Oh, is that her name? I was half-asleep when she knocked on my window and my door, so I didn’t think to introduce myself.”

“Mmm. It’s been known to happen. We’re grateful for the assistance you provided. Would you care to enter while we sort out this delivery?”

“Sure, thanks. It’s a bit nippy out here.” Riley handed off the package and entered a foyer that seemed a bit more refined than the outward appearance of the building to which the package had been delivered. The tall woman moved out of view, into what appeared to be a reception area, but the room was largely obscured from view at the doorway.

After a moment, the woman returned and handed over an envelope. “Please accept this with our gratitude… your generosity of spirit and willingness to serve at personal expense is duly noted and appreciated.” Riley blinked a few times, looked at the package with some skepticism, and stammered, “Uh. Sure, happy to. Thanks?” With a few additional pleasantries, the recipient escorted Riley back to the door and firmly shut it against the increasing wind.

With a glance around at the bright blue sky, which seemed at odds with the arctic chill in the air, Riley turned to begin the walk home. “Wait, please.” The door had opened again, and Brigid slipped out. “Here, you forgot this.”

Riley turned around and was thoroughly surprised: Brigid was holding out the wayward coffee mug left behind a few blocks away, refilled with a deliciously-scented, steaming cup of what seemed to be a particularly fine coffee. “Thanks! This’ll hit the spot!” It wasn’t until halfway home that Riley realized the coffee was exactly perfect: a particular Sumatra, perfectly brewed, with a squirt of agave and just the right amount of cream. The envelope tucked into a coat pocket suddenly acquired an unexpected weight. Well, I’ll see what’s what when I get home. It’s not that far.

With the door firmly shut and curtains drawn (no more interruptions, thanks!), Riley sat down on the futon, which also served as a bed, and contemplated the perfect cup of coffee in the wayward mug and the mysterious envelope received as compensation for an equally-mysterious errand. After another swig of coffee for fortitude, a quick slit up the end of the envelope revealed a number of bills, which seemed to be of a rather high denomination.

“Ho. Lee. Buckets.” Riley’s grip on the envelope slipped. It fell to the floor and scattered its contents, revealing a sum total of $20,000.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away:

Brigid peeks into the study. “Well?”

The tall, dark-haired woman slices open the box with an ebony knife and extracts a small, black, leather-bound notebook. “A new beginning indeed.” She made a notation on the next unmarked page in the book and closed it decisively.