Mom Genevieve, who is often tired, believes her car’s egg-covered cover is a joke, but her arrogant neighbor Brad later confesses that he did it because her car obscured his elaborate Halloween display. Angry but too tired to fight, Genevieve swears she will make him pay for it.
I was so exhausted that it was difficult for me to recall if I had fed the dog or cleaned my teeth.
After the twins were delivered, my days had become hazy.
Lily and Lucas were my sweet, adorable babies, but managing two newborns by myself was an incredible challenge. I had gone months without a full night’s sleep. Not me, though, as the neighborhood was abuzz with excitement for Halloween, which was quickly approaching.
I was hardly able to decorate, much less keep up with the suburban celebrations.
Brad came next.
It seemed as though the man’s life relied on Halloween, he took the holiday so seriously. He transformed his home into a haunted carnival each year, complete with enormous jack-o’-lanterns, skeleton dioramas, and gravestones.
And the arrogant expression he wore whenever someone gave him a compliment? Please.
The whole neighborhood was mesmerized by his display. But me? Brad’s absurd haunted house didn’t really interest me because I was too busy fighting to keep my eyes open.
It all began to go apart on a normal October morning.
With Lucas nestled in my arm and Lily on one hip, I shuffled outdoors. I blinked in shock at what I saw. My automobile was egged by someone! The semi-congealed ooze, resembling a twisted breakfast special, was dripping down the windshield, with broken pieces of shell.
“Are you serious?” I silently gazed at the disarray.
The previous evening, I had parked in front of Brad’s house. Not that I really had a lot of options. I had parked near to our door because it was impossible to push the stroller with the twins all the way down the street.
I initially assumed it had to be a joke. But my hypothesis became confirmed when I saw that the egg splatters extended all the way to Brad’s front porch.
Brad has his handwriting all over this.
Brad didn’t care that his extravagant Halloween display gave him no right to the curb. The man was quite territorial about Halloween, just like a wolf would be.
Barely able to control the wrath rising within me, I marched straight to his house. I knocked more forcefully than I should have, but it didn’t seem to matter. I had had enough of being polite.
“What?” Brad, appearing more arrogant than normal, opened it. I swear the arrogance just oozed from him as he crossed his arms over his chest.
His home was decked out for Halloween already. The full outrageous mess was there: plastic skeleton waving at me from the porch, fake cobwebs hanging from the gutters, a witch relaxing in an Adirondack chair.
I didn’t waste any time. “See who egged my car, did you?”
Brad remained still.
He said, “I did it,” as though he were giving me the time of day. “My decorations are hidden by your car.”
I looked at him, in disbelief. “My car was parked in front of your house, so you egged it? You just damaged it without even asking me to relocate it.
He shrugged, showing no signs of fear. “If people can’t see my display from the road, how can they appreciate it?”
I gave a blink. I momentarily believed that I had misheard him. “Are you serious?”
He was so daring as to shrug.
“I am the King of Halloween!” Genevieve, people go from all around to visit this exhibit. All I’m asking for is a little assistance. It’s where you’re usually parked. It’s disrespectful and detracting from the atmosphere.
Careless? I was struggling to maintain composure while managing two infants, and this conceited man was discussing minor problems with me?
I snapped, “Well, I’m sorry my life gets in the way of your eerie graveyard.” Brad, I have twins. twins who just arrived.
Leaning against the doorframe as though we were talking about the weather, he replied, “Yeah, I know.” “Perhaps you ought to park somewhere else.”
“I park there because it makes it easier for me to get to my car with a stroller and two babies in tow!”
Brad gave a shrug. “Genevieve, that’s not my problem. Listen, once Halloween is gone, you can park there once more, okay?
I was stunned and filled with rage as I stood there. However, fatigue has a curious way of smothering anger before it can flare up too intensely.
“All right,” I yelled.
Shaking with a mixture of rage and amazement, I turned on my heel and went back inside instead of screaming.
But later, when I cleaned the egg off my car, it all made sense.
Brad wasn’t your average innocuous, naive neighbor. I was tired of him being a bully. It’s okay if he wants to play dirty. I was going to play more shrewd.
That night, while I rocked Lily to sleep in the nursery, a brilliant thought struck me. Brad’s pride was his vulnerability. He needed the town to speak about his spooky house. I wasn’t in the mood for conflict, but retaliation? that I could manage.
After a day, I went up to his yard carelessly while he continued to adorn his front porch.
“Hi Brad,” I said, attempting to seem upbeat. “I’ve been considering it; I really shouldn’t have blocked your display. You always work so hard at it… Have you given upgrading it any thought?
He hesitated, apprehensive. “Upgrade?”
Yes, such as certain high-tech items. Fog machines and ghost projectors, you know. Even though you currently have a fantastic setup, those would make an even bigger impression on guests.
I knew I had him when his eyes brightened.
Brad was easy to predict. He would use the opportunity to outshine everyone in the area.
I listed a few brands that I had looked into. All of them were awful devices with one-star evaluations that were infamous for malfunctioning and exhibiting peculiar flaws. However, he wasn’t in need of knowing that.
“You think so?” he inquired, planning his Halloween masterpiece in his head.
Oh, without a doubt. You would be the neighborhood’s discussion show.
And with that, I left, feeling content. I just needed to wait now.
When Halloween night finally arrived, Brad’s house resembled something from a horror film. As anticipated, he had given it his all.
Parents and children were gathered on the sidewalk, taking in the sight of the fog spreading across his lawn. Brad was at the center of it all, soaking up their respect.
With Lily and Lucas snuggled in my lap, I watched from my porch, feeling a little like the antagonist of a low-budget play. I had to concede that, up until it didn’t, his arrangement looked spectacular.
Just like that, the fog generator faltered and began spraying water like a garden hose instead of creating that creepy, atmospheric mist. Kids giggled, the crowd gasped, and Brad freaked out.
Hurrying to the machine, he tinkered with the buttons, attempting to stop it.
However, it wasn’t finished. His most valuable piece, the ghost projector, flickered on and off, projecting a cartoonish, twitchy ghoul that resembled a disturbed blob rather than a ghost. Parents giggled, and now the children were laughing aloud.
And then the last blow. A gigantic Frankenstein, one of his inflatables, fell apart slowly as its deflating head rolled across the yard in a funny way.
A few adolescent lads found that amusing, so they snatched up a carton of eggs and threw them joyfully and precisely toward Brad’s house in the spirit of Halloween mischief.
It was too late for Brad to save his remaining dignity as he was losing it and pacing back and forth. There was no turning back from his haunted home of horrors; it had become a haunted house of humor.
I was feeding Lucas the following morning when there was a knock on the door. Brad appeared to be deflated when I opened it. similar to his Frankenstein. His normal arrogant demeanor had vanished, and for a moment I was on the verge of guilt.
With his eyes barely meeting mine, he muttered, “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” For sullying your vehicle. I reacted too strongly.
I took my time to answer, crossing my arms. “You did, indeed.”
“I simply… I had no idea how difficult it must be, what with the twins and all. He stroked the back of his neck, showing signs of discomfort. “I apologize.”
I watched him writhe for a minute more, letting the quiet linger. I appreciate your apology, Brad. I’m confident it won’t occur once more.
Hastily nodding, he wanted to get away from the awkwardness. “No, it won’t.”
It couldn’t help but comment as he turned to go, “Funny how things have a way of balancing out, huh?”
When he turned to look back, Brad was silent for a change.
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