Evil

Evil lurks in the city.  I never stop looking over my shoulder.  I wouldn’t want to meet it face-to-face.  It congregates in places where you might least expect it; lurking in dark allies and hiding in drainage ditches.

The city is filled with buildings; some very tall and others short.  There are lots of houses.  In the past decade I have noticed homes torn down and townhouses built.  Apartment buildings are turned into condominiums.  Some affordable senior housing is popping up.  More people are being packed into the city.  More evil abounds.

There are shopping centers and strip malls, although they are both suffering because of the faltering economy.  There is asphalt – lots of asphalt.  I wonder who owns the companies that provide all that asphalt.  They must be the people who live in the big expensive houses.  Is evil there as well?

Children’s happy screams, poetic games and rhythmic songs can be heard from the parks that dot the city.  In contrast, poor and homeless people live in our parks.  Evil also lives in the parks. 

This is the place where I have lived almost my entire life.  It is home.  Some good, some not so good, but it is home.  I don’t remember this evil when I was growing up.  Was I just naive? 

I have always had cats, mainly because I don’t like mice.  My old wonderful cat Putter went missing.  Next my son’s cat Leo disappeared.  I must be careful and protect my little toy poodle, Barkley. 

Who is this creature prowling our neighborhoods who has infiltrated our city?  Some would say they are cute. Ha!  Cute is their disguise!  And, now it appears that one has taken up residence in my house....yes, she's a cute little raccoon.  Barkley, beware!  

The Laundry Room

I have lived in the same house just a couple years short of forty.  When I was shopping for it one of the “must have’s” was laundry inside the house.  If I were to move it would be a deal breaker if the laundry was in the garage.

I can’t go into a garage without feeling intense fear.  Just before I enter I peak into the garage and mentally chart my path; both going in and getting out.  I open the door wide open to ensure there is nothing behind it.  I take a deep breath and make myself do it.  I make it as quick as possible.  Intellectually, I know how unrealistic I am.  Emotionally, I can’t help it.

Sometimes I wonder if people understand that the movies children see can leave them with a lifetime of fear.  I have no idea what movie it was that gave me this lifetime of intense garage fear, but I do remember the scene.  It was a basement scene where a woman was doing laundry.  A man entered with a knife.  There was only one way in and out of the basement.  He was blocking that way.  No one would hear her scream.  She was trapped.  My palms sweat just thinking about the intensity of the moment.  She died.  When I was growing up I lived in several houses.  Our laundry was always located in the garage.  That was the connection.

One time I stayed overnight with Krissy, my cousin. Aunt Pat took us to see Cyclops.  It was one of the most terrifying films I have ever seen. I looked it up on the internet. There is a trailer on YouTube   The trailer is ridiculously silly now, but it wasn't silly in 1957.  I don’t remember too much other than trying to be brave and not show how scared I was.  I wonder if she knew.  I wonder if Krissy was afraid.  I wonder why we didn’t leave?  This is an intense memory.  Even today, I will not watch movies with blood in them and suspense drives me from the room.