Gnomes of Suburbia (2 page)

Abby had learned a few things since then. Her crafting wasn't a nasty habit, it was a compulsion. She had to make the things that she did, in the manner that she did, or go slowly nuts. It wasn't a hard choice.

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In times of stress, it is completely natural for someone to think of quotes of nostalgic wisdom. This was just such a time.

"A true friend will help you move.” Abby muttered under her breath as she took a load from the moving van to the porch. The movers were doing their part with the larger items, but to empty the truck in under an hour would save her a hundred bucks. So she moved her own limbs as rapidly as possible with every cardboard burden she took up. The pickup from her mother's home had gone smoothly, if under nagging that was still ringing in her ears. Still, she had moved her stuff out in two weeks and kept up her end of the bargain. No boys, no drinking and no crafting in the pristine showplace that was her mother's home.

When she stumbled and almost dropped her box of moulds and casting materials, her breath caught in her chest as the box righted itself and proceeded into the pile under its own steam. “What the hell?” She blinked furiously, but the levitation continued until the box was safely settled.

Abby looked around for some explanation, but her movers were still on their lackadaisical route to and from their truck. They hadn't seen anything.

She checked her watch and swore under her breath. She had five minutes to finish getting the boxes out of the van or she would have to give up her hard-earned cash.

A strange energy filled her arms and legs, she ran back to the truck and began to hoist and drop the boxes into a pile next to the loading ramp.

The cargo area had been half-full, but as her body made the shuttle too and from the edge, she had it cleared in no time. If some boxes seemed to shift themselves, she was sure that it was just a trick of the light, and her hard work. Gasping and glowing ever so femininely in the bright light of the afternoon, she greeted her slack-jawed movers with a tired smile. “Its done boys. You can go now."

"But half the truck...” Bill trailed off as he saw the echoingly empty interior. His voice reverberated in the hollow space. Nothing was left except the moving blankets off her dining room table and a few straps that had secured everything while in motion.

She took a limp and sad looking wad of money out of her pocket, sweat ran through denim so easily. “So that was one hundred for the first hour and fifty for the delivery."

They looked like they wanted to scratch their heads and their butts at the same time, just to cover both points of thought. “Uh, yeah. But did some of your friends come to help?"

"Nope. I am just a motivated mover.” She smiled and waggled the folded bills at him. “Here you go."

"Thanks, ma'am. It was a pleasure, and any time you need movers don't hesitate to call us.” Bill and Randal tucked in the ramp and closed up the back of the cargo area. With a grunting roar and the belch of diesel, they took their shuddering conveyance and disappeared into the green-canopied pathway that was Oak Point Way.

With the movers gone there was just one thing to do, meet the grass, up close and personal. She collapsed onto her front yard. The grass prickled at her skin and she idly watched a ladybug make its rounds on her thigh as she fought for breath. What the hell had just happened? There was no way that she had shifted all those boxes by herself, and yet, she had. There was no other explanation. At least none that her over heated mind would consider.

As she lay on her back and contemplated the lovely pattern of the leaves occasionally flirting with the sun on the massive oaks in her yard, a shadow crossed her line of site. Huh, the shadow had hands. They gripped her own firmly.

"Hello. You must be Annabeth. Up you go.” She was lifted to her feet with a sharp tug and found herself facing the most extraordinary creature she had ever seen. Her head spun and she grasped the woman firmly to keep her balance as the blood rushed back to its proper disposition.

If she wasn't a sceptical person, she would swear that the woman was green. Just a light hint of aqua in her features and a pine tint to her chestnut hair. “Uh, hello. Who are you?” She was quite striking, but she had a stillness to her that Abby found slightly unnerving.

"I am your next door neighbour, Laura. Laura Exner. Feel free to come by and use the pool anytime. Or the hot tub for that matter.” Her bright smile invited Abby to smile back and she did so out of reflex, only then realizing that the thought of a hot tub was causing the facial response. She was a little sore from the move. In fact, living in her front yard until her muscles healed was a fantastic idea. Mmm. No more lifting.

"That's very generous offer for a woman you don't even know.” She was a little dizzy from being pulled to her feet and she squinted up at her new neighbour with suspicion. Her own five foot six came up rather short with Laura.

"Well, you are single, like arts and crafts and have few friends nearby. Not to mention family."

"How did you know all that? Are you a private detective or something?” It was creepy. She was right on the money. Well, not about the family. Her family had washed their hands of her move the instant that they saw all of her crafting stuff.

"Me? No I own a pet store in town.” Laura presented a card that stated
Exner's Exotics—Saltwater fish for your aquarium
. “I just noted your lack of assistance for your move, the single name on all the boxes and the little show of you unloading a moving truck by yourself.” She crossed her arms, drummed her immaculate nails and smiled. “You are either the most stubborn individual that I have ever seen or you had no one to help you."

Abby raised a brow, “What about the arts and crafts?"

Laura tapped one of the boxes of marked plaster with her stiletto. “I assume that this is actual plaster and that you don't enjoy hauling twenty kilo boxes for entertainment."

Laughter seemed the only option, “Entertainment it isn't. It's my livelihood."

"Oh? What do you do for a living?” Bending gracefully Laura picked up two of the plaster boxes and nodded toward Abby's new home. “You coming?” The heft of the burden was not noticeable in her stride, Laura must workout.

"Uh, sure.” She picked up a box of her own and almost staggered under the weight. “I sculpt creatures and then take photos of them in costume. My first book just came out.” She took point and slithered past her deceptively strong new acquaintance. “In here."

Her workshop was one of the larger rooms in the house. She supposed it was originally a formal dining space, but she couldn't resist using the light streaming in through the sliding glass doors.

"Wow. It seems like almost all your boxes are supplies.” Laura gave the boxes a longing look. “I don't suppose you would have any finished sculptures handy, would you? I would love to see your work."

Abby sighed and looked toward the front of the house. “Could it wait for another time? It is going to take me a while to finish moving all these boxes."

"Hmm. Would you like some help? One of the other ladies on the street is off today and I think Verne is home."

"Uh, that would be great. Is Verne your boyfriend?"

Laura snorted daintily. “Well, we go out occasionally, but nothing serious. He lives in number twenty one.” She flipped out a cell phone and began to dial and walk as she headed back to the curb. It was impressive. Abby couldn't dial and talk at the same time.

Bemused, Abby followed and began a stately shuttle of boxes into her home. In minutes, they were joined by two more inhabitants of Oak Point Way.

This sure was a friendly neighbourhood.

Verne Fisher was charming. A shade under six feet tall, a neatly trimmed beard and moustache in a dark brown hue and his ice blue eyes calmly focussed on Laura the entire time that he was helping with the move. It was the gaze of a patient hunter, the knowledge of the outcome clearly stamped in his eyes.

Seesee Montrose was much more animated and a far better conversationalist. Her hair was a thick mass of braids that framed her delicate and exotic mocha features. Her eyes were a startling contrast, a brilliant violet that met her own with a direct gaze. It was from Seesee that she learned that Verne was a Customs officer who had been sniffing after Laura for eighteen months. What a surprise.

Laura's shop specialized in saltwater fish and tanks, and all the accoutrements for maintaining the exotic creatures. Her face lit up as she described the importance of meeting clients and matching the fish and the tanks with the maintenance level they were willing to give.

Seesee's shop was far more mundane, and to Abby, far more fascinating. She owned a bakery. One of the best in town.

Montrose's Munchies sold cakes, cookies and treats of the high calorie variety. She promised to deliver some of the treats the next time that she visited. Today was for celebrating a new addition to their neighbourhood.

When all the boxes had been shifted into her home and some were being unpacked by the strangers, Abby asked the question that she had been dying to since Laura picked up that first box. “It's very nice and all, but why did you all come to help me move in?"

"I think that that answer needs some tea.” Laura was already in the kitchen and unpacking boxes. She had obviously found the kettle as the whistle had sounded earlier. A tray rattled as she led the way into the living room, Seesee grabbed Abby's arm and dragged her along.

"Uh, can I wash my hands first?” Abby was almost digging her heels in as they passed the bathroom.

Seesee had the grace to blush, “Oh, certainly.” Her hair shifted almost restlessly but Abby was certain that it was a trick of the light. It almost looked alive.

Verne was something of an interior decorator. As soon as he finished moving the furniture, he had turned to her bathrooms and sorted her toiletries. He was so metro it was scary, and yet he had this weird lumberjack vibe that emanated from him almost constantly. He was an urban warrior with a great sense of style.

She used the pump soap that she used for her hands when they were covered with plaster and scrubbed a lot of the dirt and grime out from under her nails. She would never be able to compete with Laura's immaculate manicure so she was giving up and settling for tidy.

Entering her new living room filled with people who didn't even know her and yet who had helped her move in, she was almost in tears. It was too much. Her day had been more stressful than she could have ever predicted. She was overwhelmed by every emotion she had ever experienced.

"I just wanted to thank you all so much. I am lucky to have new neighbours like you. If there is anything I can ever do for you, just let me know.” A tear did manage to struggle from her eye. As it tracked down her cheek, her audience watched with rapt attention. The instant that it hit the floor there was a thunderclap, the walls of the house shook.

"What the heck was that?” Abby was on her feet in an instant. The last thing she wanted was one of the enormous oaks in her roof. The sky was blue and clear. No sign of the ominous noise.

"I am sure it was just a car backfiring.” Seesee's voice was reassuring and satisfied at the same time. “Come back and sit down so we can all get to know you."

"That was one big effing car.” That made her pause for a second before she sat down. “Uh, if this is about some kind of kinky stuff, I am not interested. I currently don't swing in any direction."

She calmly sipped her tea as she waited for the laughter to die down. Okay, so maybe they were just friendly.

"Sorry to laugh at you, Abby, but that is not the reason that we wanted to talk to you. It has been so long since a new nex ... ooof!” The elbow that Verne drove into Laura's side had a bit of force behind it. She glared at him as she continued. “A new next door neighbour moved in. We have a tight little community here and actually enjoy talking to our neighbours. Number Thirteen has been empty for quite a while. If I may ask, didn't you have any second thoughts about purchasing an unlucky number?"

Abby had been preparing for this question since she signed the contract. “I like the number thirteen. It's a prime number, it contains a one and a three. I like those numbers as well. Plus the house just feels right.” She looked around at the oak floors and cream walls. “It feels perfect. The second that I saw it, it was mine."

"Excellent. This neighbourhood has needed someone like you. Oh, I am your next door neighbour on your left, in number Nine.” Laura nodded to her and smiled while getting her second cup of tea. “I have the only pool on the block so feel free to pop by anytime to use it. Really. Anytime."

"Thanks. That is very generous and kind of creepy, but I don't know how to swim.” The shock on Laura's face was almost comical. “I never had the opportunity to learn. Do you know somewhere I could take classes?"

"Yup. My backyard pool. Six o'clock tomorrow night. I am fully certified as a swimming instructor.” Her face still showed her shock that an adult could not swim. She was recovering slowly.

"And when you get tired of swimming, I'll pop by and you can get your just desserts.” Seesee piped in. “Oh, if you need me for anything I am Number One. On the street, that is, Number One Oak Point Way."

"To get it over with, I am in number Twenty One. Directly across the circle from Laura.” Verne didn't sound too happy about that. His grimace indicated that he wanted to be considerably closer, at all times.

The conversation turned to her selection of DVDs and then trailed off as they began to get ready to leave. Their impromptu party unravelled quickly and soon they were out the door, with Abby promising to take swimming lessons. They walked slowly down her sidewalk, murmuring to themselves, and she could only sigh with relief that she had landed in a welcoming neighbourhood.

"You idiot! She doesn't know she's a Nexus. She hasn't even begun more than the basic manifestations.” Verne hissed it in Laura's ear on their way down to the street. He loved her, but tact was not one of her strong points.