Tomatoes cont...

I remember the day he moved in, some years ago. I swear there was an aura of infernal flames around him. He was evil popped out of the hot hole. He hurled invective at his wife throughout the day as the movers were unloading the van and carrying their wares into the house. They had a valuable, gilt antique mirror, and when he became furious at Mrs. Petersen over some insignificant little detail, he yelled so loud that he startled one of the men who dropped his end of the mirror which ended up in a thousand shards on the cement path. So, what did he do but begin shouting abuse at the movers, accusing them of incompetence. From the look on their faces, I could tell that if their job hadn’t been at stake, the two guys would have walked away right then and there.

At that point, Judy and I, very depressed, retreated into our house and closed the door, wondering how in the world we would learn to live beside this satanic new neighbour. Judy was in tears; we had been such good friends with the old couple who lived there before. Mr. Carey had died a year ago and now Mrs. Carey had gone and followed him. We missed them tremendously, particularly Judy who had become very close to Mrs. Carey in the last year of her life. To have them replaced by this nasty character and his wife was like mourning all over again not just for Mr. and Mrs. Carey but for the good neighbours they had always been.

In the middle of one night, a couple of months after the Petersens moved in, Mrs. Petersen flew the coop. We hadn’t really got to know her at all. Apparently she didn’t even bother taking anything with her except her clothes and a few personal belongings, and as far as we know, she never asked him for anything. She just left it all behind. Judy ran into her once after that, at Mövenpick in Toronto, and they had lunch together. Mrs. Petersen told Judy that she had just had enough, and she called him a chauvinist pig. It had taken her years to take that step but there was no way she was ever coming back. Judy told me that she was looking ten years younger than when she had been our neighbour.

“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to stay with him as long as I did. Seventeen years! Can you imagine! Well, obviously, I had problems of my own but that’s in the past now.”

“I certainly think you did the right thing leaving him,” said Judy. “I don’t need to know much more than what I’ve seen to be convinced of that. Martin and I always felt so sorry for you having to put up with him.”

“All I can say is that I’m glad we didn’t have any children,” said Mrs. Petersen.

Our hateful neighbour often travelled overseas on business and it didn’t take long before, seemingly unperturbed by his wife’s escape, he came back home from the Far East, one fall day, his little fortune cookie in tow. That was what we called her when we first saw her. I am ashamed of that now. All I can say is that we do judge people by the company they keep. Our initial, unfounded opinion of the young woman was totally wrong. Suyen is the loveliest, sweetest, most diligent young woman one could imagine. My wife says that she has been blessed with fairy fingers that can turn a beautiful piece of cloth into the most splendid garment. As well, her green thumb has already brought her well-earned prizes at the local branch of the Horticultural Society.