Chapter 1 Mr. Vega and the rooster

Sometimes a neighbor is someone you meet one and never notice again. Other neighbors become someone you discover over and over.

Waking up earlier than usual today, but that's not saying a whole lot. Our days used to

 

  begin at the crack of dawn. I knew it was dawn because the rooster living in Mr. Vega's

 

  yard would belt out his alarm. Every morning as if he were an opera singer, and you had

 

  paid much too much for the privilege, and were eagerly awaiting to hear every bit your

 

  money's worth of his shrilling morning aria. I wondered why? What would make a grown

 

  man, an accomplished grown man with a family, suddenly one day decide it was time to

 

  own a rooster?  Did he miss the one he had as a child?  Did perhaps a neighbor's dog keep

 

  him up all night barking?  Was this his way of leveling the playing field? 

 

  He didn't seem to be the kind to blindly strike out so perhaps there was an emotional

 

  bond between him and that dumb fowl. 

 

  Who was I to judge, I had the dog who would have probably barked all night. Although no

 

  one had ever complained about Loki's seldom barking rants. He was loved by all who knew him. 

 

  Child and man alike considered him to be part of their extended family.  He, happily accepted his role as

 

  neighborhood mascot, and he was grateful for every tasty morsel and pet that came along 

 

  with the position.  I didn't complain either, waking up with the sunrise got to be a pleasant habit.

 

  Well, we didn't complain for long, after adjusting to the farm stock in our suburban Eden (which incidentally

 

  was a major factor in Loki's barking rants) we happily accepted our newest citizen of Oak park. 

 

  Mr. Vega never mentioned his arrival or asked for his acceptance except to say his name was Rocky.  We

 

  grew to rely on the consistency of our morning ritual. Then one day just as Rocky had come into our lives he was

 

  gone.  Mr. Vega had no explanation other than to say he went to live on a farm where he belonged. Typical.

 

  Something had changed that year.  We were all headed for our own bends in the road.

 

  Marco, Mr. & Mrs. Vega's eldest child was graduating from college. It didn't look like Sylvia, the youngest Vega

 

  had an ounce of interest in the prospects a college education might offer. 

 

  Our son Nicholas was just entering his freshman year, and Sylvia should have been joining him. They had gone

 

  through all of elementary and middle school together. The thought of him continuing on without her almost seemed

 

  unnatural. As though we were leaving a child behind in our growth as a family, but she wasn't our child to guide.

 

  I had to trust that the Vega's knew what they were doing.

 

  With our work behind us and our children's bright futures ahead of them. We, should have been happy.

 

  This should have been a time for smiles and prideful reflection, but that was proving harder to fake

 

  as the days went on. A wall had formed between our homes between our families.

 

  Our spouses and children went about their merry ways. Delighted with the preparations for our families celebrations.

 

  This  would be a week of out of town families visiting to congratulate the boys. Keeping everyone closely tied to the

 

  house. Which meant me, I would be home to serve as hostess, cook, tour guide while everyone came and went

 

  with the excitement of seeing a new town and visiting with family they haven't seen in ages.

 

  While I was finishing the beautification of our soon to be B&B Nicholas and his father busied themselves making sure

 

  our libations were well stocked and snacks never had a chance of running low. I wasn't sure we would have enough

 

 towels to last the week but potato chips & popcorn were well stocked.  This party should keep our family dinner

 

 conversations well tuned for years to come. As I carried on with the preparation for my party guests

 

  I could see the Vega family doing the same. Our pleasantries never deferred but the comfort level had left the

 

  building. Had left out heart, our lives.

 

  At some point we knew we had to work together and this was going to make us uncomfortably closer than

 

  neighbors. Neither one of us were ready to admit that to ourselves.