Summertime Haze
Part 1.2 - The Man Next-Door
The day was a very special day for Henry.
It’d been about a week since he’d first moved to Willow Creek, and he was doing alright. School back in Newcrest would have ended within the last week, which only meant one thing to Henry; it was his birthday.
He’d never actually laid eyes on his actual birth certificate, but his birthday, according to his foster parents, was a day that always seemed to come a couple days after school had ended. Henry’d started to see his birthday as the start of summer. His foster parents had always thrown these huge elaborate parties where they’d have him invite all of his friends, and, when that wasn’t enough, they’d invite their own adult friends. The crowd always made every party feel like such an event.
This year, however, everything was different. It was less than likely he was going to see his foster parents again, let alone one of his friends from school. So, instead of an elaborate party, Henry spent the day at his computer, googling recipes for cake.
The cake itself became a whole ordeal as Henry ran back and forth from the grocery store to his house, paying the poor cashiers in cash because his foster parents had never gotten around to getting him the credit card he’d asked for. If anything, they’d probably been saving it for his birthday.
Henry had never been much of a chef, but after a couple of hours, he’d made something that looked decent enough.
He sadly pushed a few candles into a cake that was way too big for just one person. Sitting at the table in the dark, watching the candle flames flicker, Henry smiled to himself.
“To new friends,” he whispered, as he prepared to blow out the candles.
He was interrupted by a loud and powerful knock on his front door. Henry sighed deeply, quickly blew out the candles, and flipped on the light switch as he headed towards the door.
Henry opened the door to discover a tall, muscular man, his height only emphasized by his incredible mohawk.
“Hey,” the man said, holding out his hand. “Name’s Bennett Reardon. Me and my ma and pa and sis live right across the street,” he added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder before Henry even had a chance to take his hand.
“Oh! I’m Henry,” Henry smiled.
“Mom and dad were going to do this, but they’re busy today, so I got stuck with greeting you,” Bennett sighed, pushing past Henry into his house.
Henry blinked a few times, trying to figure out if Bennett was being rude or not.
Eyeing the cake, Bennett walked further into the house. “Hey man, nice cake!”
“Thanks?”
He stuck a finger into the frosting and tasted it. Thoughtfully, he said “Could use some more sugar…”
“Uh…” Henry said quietly.
Bennett looked around the house, looking at the decor. “Did you, like, not bring any furniture with you, man? The house still looks the same as it did when the old lady lived here.”
“Old lady?”
“She died. Right over there, in the kitchen. My ma found her, said she slipped on some spilled juice.”
“Thanks,” Henry said, eyes wide. “I really wanted to know that.”
Bennett thew himself onto Henry’s couch lazily. “You’re pretty young. Maybe it’s just because the old people who used to live in this neighborhood all recently passed, but you almost seem to young to own a house, you get what I’m saying?”
“I’m renting,” Henry said firmly, starting to get pretty fed up with Bennett.
“What’s up with the tone, man?” Bennett asked.
“You just came into my home and insulted literally everything I have going on here!” Henry yelled. “I didn’t ask for you to come and greet me, eat my cake, and insult my house on my birthday! I don’t know about you, but I’ve been going through some pretty intense shit recently, Mr. Bennett, and I’d really prefer to not to have to put up with anymore of it!”
Bennett got up from the couch, and walked backwards towards the door. “Chill out a little, man. I was only trying to introduce my family to the new neighbor.”
Henry opened the door for Bennett, and gestured towards the porch. “Well, thanks, but I’m not interested right now.”
Bennett rolled his eyes and walked outside. Henry slammed and locked the door behind him.
“Happy fucking birthday to you,” Bennett said, rolling his eyes as he crossed the street to get back to his own house.
“Happy fucking birthday to me,” Henry sighed as he sat back down in front of his birthday cake, and started to eat it. Alone.