The New Neighbor Hello everyone, This is my first story to the list, so be gentle. :-) This story is rated FE--for everyone...ie. no violence, no blood shed, the only warning would be, my bizarre sense of humor. My name and Sven's names are the only real people in the story, used with permission--he's my husband in the story, and in real life too. :-) The character of Beth is ficticious. Oh, and this is amateur stuff only, and isn't intended to infringe on any previously held copyrights. So with that said, enjoy... ================================================================ The New Neighbor By Yvette Jessen It had been a really long day. I was sitting around watching videos and of course, singing along. I finally stood up and turned off the television and made my way down the hall. Our apartment is pretty big, I mean, my husband and I have tons of space, enough for a study, where I spend a lot of time writing stories, letters, and sometimes poetry. The time seemed to stand still as I sat at the computer and logged on. As usual, no email, not even someone hounding me to buy golf equiptment or a new computer. *Bingbong* I came back down to Earth to realize that someone was ringing our doorbell. If it's a vacuum cleaner salesman, I'm gonna scream. They were here only yesterday, and I had to play pretend that I didn't speak the language to get them to go away. Actually, it wasn't entirely pretend, but that's another story. I stood up and made my way to the door. When I opened it, I just about fainted. I mean it's not everyday, you see a man standing on the opposite side of the door with a smile on his face, wearing a red serge tunic, and holding a fold out map and a compass. 'Guten Tag,' I said. 'Do you speak English?' he asked me confusion coloring his features. 'I heard you singing in English from the outside stairwell. I hope you can understand me.' 'Yes, of course I can,' I answered, 'I'm American.' 'What are you doing in Germany?' he asked. Great, I'm thinking, another person who seems to find it weird that an American woman would choose willingly to make Germany her home. I look up at him and smile, 'My husband's German.' 'I'm your new neighbor, Benton Fraser.' The man extends his hand and I wipe mine on my skirt and shake hands with him. Now where have I heard that name before? I mean, he looks familiar. I look up at him skeptically. Then it hits me, that's it, the show DUE SOUTH, he's the Mountie dude. This explains why he's dressed this way. This oughta be good, I'm thinking waiting for him to say something else. When he doesn't say anything, I finally step back so this 'person' standing outside my door doesn't think I'm totally rude. 'Would you like to come in?' I offer finding my voice. 'I'm about to put on some tea.' He nods and comes inside. Wow, he even remembered to remove his hat upon entering. I'm totally impressed. We go into the kitchen and after I put the kettle on to boil, I ask him, 'So what brings you here? I mean it's probably not as exciting as Chicago right now.' I look towards the windows to the study. The entire town where I live is pretty much under construction. 'How did you know I came here from Chicago?' He takes a seat at the table and looks up at me as though I had just said I could juggle bananas. 'Just a guess,' I bit my lip. Oh God, I'm thinking, He really does look like he had just jumped out of the television. Then it hit me. It had to be a set up by my friend, Beth. She's probably sitting at home laughing herself to death over this one. Finally, I stand up from the table. 'Would you please excuse me for a moment?' He nods and I run into the next room, closing the door behind me. Benton is left sitting in the kitchen looking around the room curiously. I grab the phone off its cradle and begin to dial as if I was trying to win a race. Once Beth answered the phone, I began to address her in German. 'Ha ha, very funny, Beth.' 'What are you talking about, Yvette?' 'I'm talking about a man who calls himself Benton Fraser sitting in my kitchen.' I'm gasping as though I'm about to fall over from shock. 'Where'd you find him, the classifieds? He's sitting in there at the table waiting for me to pour him a cup of tea.' 'I think you need to lay off the chocolate, and start making some kind of sense,' Beth answers. 'I didn't send anyone to you.' 'If you didn't send him, who did?' 'I don't know, but if you don't want him, I'll be more than happy to remove him from your care.' Beth says with an innocent lilt in her voice. 'Maybe some of Sven's friends have a really warped sense of humor,' she finally offers. 'Do they know about your interest in DUE SOUTH?' 'Some do, but they don't have the time to cook up such a scheme,' I said truthfully. 'I feel like I know Benton better than I should.' 'Well, you watch DUE SOUTH quite often, so of course you know him. The only trouble is, he doesn't know you. Take my advice, have some fun with him, it'd be great material for a story.' 'Ok, Beth. I guess you're right, but I don't want to keep him waiting, so I'll chat with you later, OK?' We say our goodbyes and I go back into the kitchen. Benton has been looking around the room and his eyes finally fall back on me as I reenter the kitchen and take a seat at the table. 'Your name is Yvette, yes?' Benton asks. I nod affirming his inquiry. I realize that before I ask him how he knows this, I remember that Sven and I have a porcelon name shield on the outside of the front door, so he obviously read it. The kettle begins to whistle and I stand up and turn the stove off. Once the water is poured into the tea pot, I dig around until I find my favorite tea. 'Is Earl Gray tea ok, Benton?' I ask my voice lowering when I called him by his first name. Gee, Yvette, that's so stupid, I scold myself as I pour the water into the tea pot. You're an adult, you should be able to address someone by their first name without getting embarassed. Besides, my thoughts continued, he called you by your given name, so quit freaking out about it. Once I sit down, and the tea is finished, I pour some into the cups. I then grab a small bag and pull out some jelly donuts and offer him one. 'I know that Ray would probably like these, but I wasn't sure if you did.' Whoops, I look up at him, and his expression shadows confusion, 'You do know me, but I don't understand how. And how do you know I have a friend named Ray?' I look down at the cup sitting in front of me. 'I--I uh...' My voice has trailed off, and finally I look outside. 'Nice day isn't it?' I offer sheepishly trying desperately to change the subject. Suddenly, I feel too shy to even say another word. How do I tell my new neighbor that I only know him because I watch him on TV every week? Benton's gaze won't falter, 'Yvette, how do you know so much about me? I know we've never met.' I finally stand up and walk over towards the door of the kitchen, 'Maybe you still have amnesia and forgot that we did.' This has to be the world's lamest answer, but I'm trying desperately not to freak out the guest. Oh Sven, where are you? You could walk in here and save me, just like a knight in shining armour. It's up to you bozo, I'm thinking to myself, and when I look up at Benton, he's looking at me as though I was about to admit to being one of the Psychics off the TV. Oh geez, use the fantasy, Yvette. You've gotta write yourself out of this one. But how? I mean the simpleist task would be to turn off the computer. Finally, I look up at him. 'Would you believe me if I told you that I read the information off your mailbox?' Benton looks at me as though I grew a second head, and finally he shakes his head back and forth just as his father appears from out of nowhere. 'Hi Son,' the ghost offers looking from his son to me and back again. 'Isn't this nice, a tea party. Who's your friend?' His face carries a air of innocence, but his question appears to ask if Benton had found a new girlfriend. 'This is Yvette, she is one of my new neighbors.' Benton says. 'She's married.' He stresses the word 'married'. 'I see,' The ghost rubs his chin emphatically. I nod affirming what Benton has told his father, and finally look up at the ghost, 'Hi. Your son has moved into the apartment downstairs.' I explained. The truth is I was grateful to Bob Fraser for picking this moment to appear, even if he did ask some awkward questions. Maybe he'd distract Benton from asking me about how come I know so much about him. 'You CAN see him?' Benton takes a big swallow of his tea and looks over at me once again. I'm still standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a 'deer trapped in the headlights' look on my face. By this time, I'm close to the edge. I've got a man who's like someone out of a TV show sitting in my kitchen, a ghost, and I'm not freaking out yet. Finally I look up, 'I don't understand any of this,' I point to the ghost of Bob Fraser. 'You are supposed to be dead, right?' The ghost nods an affirmation, 'And you,' I point to Benton, 'Of course, I know, you. I think you're one of the nicest characters I've ever seen. I watch you on TV every week, you're Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I know so much about you because I watch DUE SOUTH every week. It's one of my favorite shows.' Benton is looking at me, the color is draining from his face. 'You know everything about me.' He sets his tea cup back down on the table, and stands up. When he comes closer to me, I raise my hand to my forehead. My head is spinning, and the room is beginning to look like a white blur. Benton is by this time extremely confused. As I begin to sink to the floor he mutters, 'Oh dear,' and reaches under my arms and helps me to stand on my own two feet. With one hand still on the upper part of my arm, he leads me into the livingroom. Once I'm sitting on the sofa, he sits down next to me. 'Are you ok?' he asks. I nod weakly, feeling extremely foolish. 'I'm sorry, Benton, I didn't mean to make you feel so uncomfortable. I'm glad that we have such a friendly new neighbor. I hope you'll like it here.' Lame explanation for freaking out, but it seems the normal ice breaker for us. He nodded, 'yes, it's been,' a pause, 'Interesting. Just please, no more facts about me, ok? The next time we talk, you can tell me about yourself.' I looked down at my lap and sighed nervously, 'I'm afraid that would be even more boring than the 'Inuit tales' Ray complains about.' Whoops, I did it again, 'Sorry,' I offered when I saw him sigh deeply. Finally, I decided to just speak honestly as though he was just an everyday person, 'thank you for coming and having some tea with me. Sometimes, it's boring here when Sven's at work.' I paused and continued after taking a a deep breath. 'I hope that I didn't make you nervous because of what I said.' 'Don't worry about it.' He smiled that incredibly friendly smile at me and I look up to see his eyes sparkling. 'You take good care of yourself, Yvette.' He said as he stood up. I nodded as Benton made his way to the front door of the apartment. His father's ghost followed doggedly. Once Benton was gone, I closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep, because, when I opened them again, I could see the warm, brown eyes of my husband looking down at me. 'Honey, it's five o'clock and you're still asleep, are you ok?' I nodded my head, 'Yeah, I think so.' 'I heard that someone's finally moving in the apartment downstairs.' Sven said picking the magazine up off the coffee table and beginning to flip through it. 'I know, I met him...' I mumbled as I laid back down, this time my head rested in the lap of my husband and I drifted off to sleep. End August 1, 1997 -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yvette Jessen * starfrau@compuserve.com * Jena, Germany