Parable of Weeds by Jeff Vande Zande

Author:Jeff Vande Zande [Zande, Jeff Vande]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: Untreed Reads Publishing
Published: 2013-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Jayden. Mason. Darcy. Noah. Elisa. Finley. Joy. Gavin. Aria. Lucas. Chase. Jaxon. Brisa. Landon. Robert. Mila. Evan.

The names swirled through Ian’s head but connected with no faces save for Julie and her husband, Parker. He’d repeated their names in his mind and found ways to use them in their early exchanges at the door. You have a beautiful home, Julie. Thanks so much for taking care of my grass, Parker. He’d looked them in the eye as he spoke. It was a trick he’d learned from a business conference. People like the sound of their own names, the success coach stressed. They associate the good feeling with you and your product.

Julie had ushered him into a room full of people. Almost to the person they called him by his name without being introduced first. Hey, Ian. Good to see you, Ian. Really glad you could make it, Ian. How’s MeadowDowns treating you, Ian? By the time he was standing near the window with a martini in his hand, he hated the sound of his name. It tired and spooked him to be so known by what amounted to a room full of strangers.

Most of their talk had been very gracious. A few had asked him about his house and how he liked it. Another had asked if he’d already joined the WhisperWood Community Center. Most had talked to him about Jordan and how he was a fine young man. It’s like he was born and raised in the neighborhood. He has a good head on his shoulders. He’ll do big things, I can tell.

Such talk of his son warmed Ian’s heart.

He looks across the room. His neighbor with the dog is at the party with her husband. They were the only two to greet him as Mr. Baptiste. Their handshaking was curt and obligatory. Ian looks at them and can’t remember their names. Darcy and Gavin? Finley and Noah? Mila and Landon?

Oh, hell.

He turns from them to the dark picture window. His eyes adjust and the dim-black of the lawn darkens at the tree line. Beyond that he knows is the wall.

A thought that had been coming to him over the past hour solidifies into a realization that he’d been trying not to face. What he’d done for the man on the other side of the wall had been a curse more than a gift. The bag of sandwiches, the shouting…it had only served to put him in danger. How many sets of legs had there been surrounding him? Six? Seven? They would be back. They’d be bolder. They’d want answers. How is it that someone is giving you food? What favors are you doing? When will there be more food, you son of a bitch? Whose voice shouted us away? When the man had no answers for them, they’d get angry, assuming that he was hiding something. They’d think that he was holding out.

I’ve done nothing but make his life harder, Ian thinks, shivering off a chill.

The party is this way.

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