The Trouble With Neighbors

     The neighborhood kids always avoid that tree.

     Clearly, our new neighbors did not get the memo. The two kids, a boy who looks about twelve, and a girl who looks seven, are racing around it, laughing in glee. I watch them incredulously for a few moments through the window, before putting my shoes on and going outside. 

      I have a better view of them now, and it is obvious that the girl is trying to climb the tree. It really is an excellent tree for climbing, which is unfortunate. This same quality is why there's a tiny grave at our local ceremony, bearing the name of a boy who will never grow older than five. We were friends when I was much younger, before he fell off the tree and broke his neck. I didn't see it, luckily, but it was a real shock for our town. Even ten years later, fearful parents hurry their children past the tree, glancing back and glaring darkly. The tree is considered bad luck. Even the children know of the tragedy that occurred here, which is why they avoid it.

     Not our new neighbors, though. The clueless children look so happy near that tree. It's right on their property, the same place that my old dead friend lived. His parents moved away shortly after his death. An elderly couple bought the house after them, but they sold it to move to Florida. 

     My contemplations are interrupted by a joyous greeting. 

    "Hi!" The boy shouts, unafraid of greeting a girl much older than him. 

    "Hi! I'm Mara, I'm your neighbor! I live right next to you!" I respond.

    "Wow, you're really old!" The girl says, and I smile.

     "Well, I am sixteen," I say.

     "I'm Jake, and I'm twelve!" The boy shouts, and I congratulate myself inwardly for guessing his age so accurately. 

     "I'm Paige, and I'm six," the girl says, not to be outdone by her brother. 

     "Nice to meet you guys. What are you doing?" I ask, looking towards the tree.

     "We're going to climb it!" Paige announces, jumping a bit in excitement.

    "Oh, um, well, you see... Um, climbing trees is illegal here. You'll, um, get arrested by the police, it's weird," I say.

    It's not true at all, climbing trees is perfectly legal here. It's jut that nobody really does it, not since the accident ten years ago. Besides, Paige is about the age of my long-dead friend, and she would probably get horribly injured, or worse, if something went wrong in her tree-climbing endeavors. The children look suitably disappointed, but they leave the tree alone. I feel like I have prevented a catastrophe, and go back inside feeling a little happier.