I forgot to mention much about yesterday. There is a reason for that: Nothing much happened.
Other than my bike ride we did not leave the house.
We got interested in a movie on one of the HBO channels. The name of it was“Head in the Clouds” with Charlize Theron, Penelope Cruz , Stuart Townsend, and Thomas Kretschmann. It was about mostly Paris pre-Hitler invasion, but carried the viewer through occupied Paris as well.
I thought it was very good but it did fall back on the old Spy cloak and dagger skit with double agents and pumping information out of the enemy (ahem! If you know what I mean).
I thought one thing the movie makers did when it was certain a woman was doomed to die. You know she would be dead, no hope of saving her. The movie had enough dignity to not show her death but it merely alluded to the fact her end was near by the last scene she was in - a man was approaching her with a big knife. They did that in ancient Greek Plays – not show the killing but suggested the person had been killed.
While we were watching – intently, the door bell sounded. I went to the door and a young aggressive guy, looked to be under 25 and could probably fight his way our of any bar in Atlanta was standing there. He wanted to know where he could find “Jean”.
I said, “Who?”
He said, “Jean, you know, she lives next to the house across the street.”
I said, “The Haitians?” He nodded.
I told him I didn’t know. The moved out a few weeks ago. He looked at me as if he didn’t believe me. It was true – the closest we got was wave at the other across the street. I didn’t care if he believed me or not. He asked me was there anything I could tell him. I said no, I didn’t know anything.
What I could have said was that Bob, directly across the street had the Haitians’ car. They left it there for him to repair. But I didn’t, I didn’t like his attitude. And besides, I recently read in my Uncle John’s Tear-A-Day Calendar that about 60% of Haitians believed in Voodoo. I certainly didn’t want to rock the boat.
I went back to watch the movie.
4 comments:
He might have had an Eddie doll with some stick pins. Anyway sounds like something shady was afoot
I almost sent off for a post master doll one time, just as a joke. I saw this ad where you could send this company a picture of who you wanted a doll of and they would make it with similar features. The postmaster was short and bald with a sneer on his face. I think he would have one of those fits he is known for if he walked by a case and there was a doll there looking like him.
I chickened out - in fear of him and in fear of spending that much money for a joke.
Wow, that is weird. I'll never understand why people think that someone's neighbor either knows anything in the first place or would be willing to tell a stranger. Maybe that is just the NYC in me talking.
Suzanne,
Normally I believe in a cordial relationship with your neighbors - I'll help you if you help me kind of thing... like watching houses while the owners are away... but the Haitians had a snotty attitude they didn't want anything to do with us and Bob the felon, we have a snotty attitude towards him. And of our neighbors is too meddling. If Anna's car is here on a day they think she would be at work they will call and want to know why, or if I show the least bit of engine trouble with the lawnmower or something he wants to rebuild it.
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