Stanley

“Who are you?”  I asked stupidly.   

“Rick.  Your next door neighbor.  Nice to see you again.”   

“Rick?  Rick who?  I’m looking for Stanley.  My mother just sent me to deliver cookies to Stanley.”  I knew I still sounded like an idiot.  But who was this guy?  Why was he in Stanley’s house?  As I looked back up at him, I noticed his mouth was hanging open.  Maybe he was just as confused as I was.  I hope he has a good reason to all of a sudden be in Stanley’s house.  Without alerting any of the neighbors.   

Most of the women on the street were a bunch of old busy bodies who gossiped about when people went to get groceries and what time they got out of the house for church in the morning.  Don’t get me started on what happened if you didn’t go to church at all.  Being in the hospital was only a minor inconvenience to missing church.  They had small churches in the hospital…   

So how did this Rick get into Stanley’s house?  I was still standing on the front porch and even I noticed that it didn’t smell like Stanley’s house.  There was usually the scents of cooking and the odd candles Stanley liked to burn wafting out the front door.  His house wasn’t that big so smells came out the front door in a big way. 

“Stanley is my father.  He has been dead for ten years,” Rick said slowly.