"It's my yard!"(Kevin Hughes) “It’s my yard, and if you ever cut it again, I will stomp you into the dirt.”

Mike stared in innocent confusion at his neighbor. They had never had a harsh word before. Usually they just waved hello or said good morning. Now he was staring at a completely different man. An angry man. A raging man. A spittle mouthed maniac. And all because Mike had cut his grass for him while he was on Vacation.

“I’m sorry. You were gone for two weeks, I know how you like to keep your grass short. I thought I was just being neighborly.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t give you permission to cut my grass, did I? Why don’t you follow the other sheeple and put on your puny mask to defend against a virus that doesn’t exist. You Commie bastard. You are stealing America.”

Now Mike was truly upset. How in the world did it escalate to this point? He shrugged and walked away from his neighbor as he continued to spew vitriol and propaganda at Mike. Mike closed the door. His wife was waiting inside with a phone in her hand:

“I was ready to call 911. I don’t know what has gotten into him. I never see his children come over anymore and Martha told me she is going to stay with her sister in San Diego for the rest of the summer. What in the world is going on over there?”

Mike hugged her.

“I don’t know Babe. I did see him have that fight in the driveway with his Daughter. I heard her say that unless he wore a mask and got the vaccine …well, he wasn’t welcomed anymore at their house.”

Mike’s wife got shiny eyed.

“I know about that. Cindy called me crying the other day. Her husband is diabetic and just can’t risk being around the unvaccinated…plus the baby is only three months old…and she is worried the baby might get sick too. She says her Father has broken off relationships with her two brothers too. It is sad. He just watches the NEWS all day every day…and it has made him mad. Angry. Unhinged."

“Well, that’s his problem. Tell you what, let's just go to the beach and enjoy the sunset.“

“Oh, yeah. Let me put my lipstick on and we are out of here.”

*****

Mike couldn’t believe it. The Sheriff was embarrassed too.

“I’m sorry Mike. But it's the Law. A Lawyer will have you out in no time. And the Judge will dismiss the case…probably.”

Mike's co-workers stood by in disbelief. Mike was being charged with malicious trespass, and property damage. Right there in front of everybody in the Office, the Sheriff hand cuffed Mike. All because he cut a neighbor’s grass. The Sheriff was right on both counts. A Lawyer did have him out of there in less than an hour. And three months later, the Judge dismissed the case…but by then the damage was done. Hate had taken over.

*****

“Mike…I…I…don’t want to move. I love our house. One bad neighbor shouldn’t make us move out.”

“I know, Babe. I used to look forward to coming home. Now…well I wish I was back in Iraq…where I could just take him out.”

She patted her husband’s arm. She knew for him to say that, he was teetering on the edge of Action. Marines tend to do stuff…not say stuff. It is why she had made the call that morning to her Aunt Genevieve. So she told Mike all about it.

“Aw Babe, I always was a little afraid of your Aunt. I know she loves you…but she is one scary character. I have never met anyone like her. I know you think she is a witch. So do I. But that is all hogwash.”

“No, it is not, Mike. She is a Witch. A good Witch. And a good person too. She offered to help a long time ago. I called her that day he threatened you in the driveway for cutting his grass. And I never told you what he said to me in the grocery store. They kicked him out for what he said. He left cursing me and said he would never shop there again.”

Mike clouded up. His years of combat experience were laying out tactics and strategies in a rapid fire stream of scenarios…he would teach that bastard a lesson.

She saw that look. She knew that look. She spoke up:

“Michael J, Patterson…you listen to me!”

Mike did. His Mother used to use that same tone…and his full name when he was in trouble as a kid. It shook him back to reality.

“Okay, I am listening.”

She relaxed. He was listening. That look was gone from his eyes. That thousand meter stare was a real thing. And scary. But he was back in her world now.

“I asked my Aunt if there is anything she could do. You know, cast some kind of spell or something.”

Mike was curious now.

“Well, what did she say? Gather some eye of newt, some of his hair, and spittle -if you can get it- and she will make a potion that makes bad neighbors move out?”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“No…no…no, Mike. She doesn’t need eye of newt, or the sweat from a toad, or a piece of his hair. She said just bring her a blade of grass from his yard. Just one…and she would do the rest.”

“And what does this cost us? How do we pay her?”

“Nothing. She is my Aunt, and she reads the paper. She knows how he damaged your reputation and he cost us thousands in Legal Fees. She thinks he needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Okay, I will just get a blade of grass when I mow the front yard. He has that damn fence he put up in the back yard now…so can’t get one from there.”

“She said just one blade. But make sure it is from his yard. Don’t make a mistake.”

Mike nodded.

*****

Mike had waited until he saw his neighbor leave for work. He ignored the angry scowl as his neighbor gave him the stink eye. He merely stood by his lawn mower and watched him drive away.

“You stay out of my yard. You mow so much as one inch of my grass, I will have you back in court so fast your head will spin. IT IS MY YARD!”

Mike waited until he saw the car make a left onto the main road. He walked in measured steps to the very center of the his neighbor’s yard. He hesitated for only a moment. Wondering what kind of spell Aunt Genevieve would weave. He didn’t want the guy hurt…even tho he sometimes wanted to kill the bastard. He knew, if he got angry enough…he just might do that. So he kept a lid on those dark thoughts. But he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of trouble his neighbor would be in.

He bent down and pulled two blades of grass. The Marines had taught him to always have a back up. It made him laugh. He was smiling when he trudged back to his own yard with two blades of grass in his shirt pocket.

He gave them to his wife. She gave them to Aunt Genevieve.

A week later they got a call.

“Hello Darling. You tell Mike that the spell takes effect tonight. No matter what either of you think you see…don’t do anything. He won’t be harmed. Unless, of course, he does something stupid. “

And she laughed into the phone. Mike’s hair stood up on his neck and arms. So did his wife’s. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. It was a cackle of glee. Mike’s first thought was: “That poor bastard.”

Mike was right.

*****

He saw Mike edging his driveway. His blood began to boil. He watched to see if Mike came close to his property line. When he did…well, the neighbor stepped out of the door to yell. He stopped cold. His yard had become Alive. Grass was shooting ten feet into the air. It was growing, writhing, slithering, getting thicker and more menacing…and…it was reaching for him. He yelped and dodged back in his house. The grass went back to normal.

*****

“Did you see that?!”

“Yes, Mike, I was looking out the window. What did you see?”

“I saw him open the door, and I swear Babe, the grass turned into some kind of jungle of green snake like things and tried to get him.”

She held Mike’s arm for support.

“That’s what I saw too. Oh. My. God. Do you think it is my Aunt’s spell?”

Mike turned to look into his wife’s eyes. Both of them filled with anxiety…and fear.

“It couldn’t be anything else. That wasn’t natural. Nope. Not at all.”

They held each other. The edger lay on its side where Mike dropped it. They stared at their Neighbor’s front door. Wondering if he would come out again.

He did.

*****

They watched in bewildered fascination as their neighbor came out with a scythe. Mike’s first thought was where the hell did he get that. Mike’s second thought was he should have used a machete. Mike’s third thought was simply…Wow.

As soon as his neighbor stepped off the porch the grass lunged at him. He swung his scythe with mighty swings. Cutting a swath of grass with each anger powered swipe of the blade. But the grass just grew faster, taller, more aggressive. Backing the neighbor up onto the porch. A wall of writhing grass chased him no farther. As long as the man stayed on his porch …he was safe. One step into the yard…and the grass attacked him.

He called the Police. The Police calmly listened as he told his story. They wrote it all down. They also noted that they were standing in his front yard talking with the man on the porch…and the grass was short. Maybe two inches. They also reported that the neighbors didn’t notice anything amiss. They merely said the man likes to keep his grass short. And he doesn’t like anyone else in his yard.

He called two more times that week. The Police recommended he see a psychiatrist. The Dispatcher had to dispatch a Cruiser each time, for his increasingly frequent and frenzied 911 calls. But they no longer even came to his door. The grass was always short. Almost like a golf course green. It was a beautiful lawn. Not a blade out of place, or burnt. No weeds either. It was a fine lawn. So they reported “Nothing amiss” and drove off.

*****

Mike sat on their front porch sipping a hot tea on a cool Autumn evening. His wife sipped her hot chocolate, occasionally reaching for his hand. They made small talk as couples will.

“Mike, have you seen him (pointing with her cup at the neighbor’s perfect yard with her cup) lately?”

Mike turned his head, and turned back with a wry smirk.

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since that first time we saw the Jungle Grass.”

The Jungle grass is what they called the neighbors yard. It was blasé to them now. Anytime that neighbor came out his front or back door, the grass would leap, lunge and lurch for him. Sometimes he would have to pull a leg free, screaming in fear the whole time, in order to get back to his porch or patio. He couldn’t go out…the lawn was waiting for him.

“I see Uber Treats come by every couple days…and sometimes deliveries from that company on TV that send you whole meals to make. They just leave the box on the porch. If they put it next to his garage, he won’t come out to get it.”

Mike chuckled. A chuckle filled with schadenfreude.

“Would you?”

She laughed gently.

“No. I suppose not.”

Just then a delivery car came up. A young man had a trunk full of groceries. The neighbor opened his front door and watched as the young man brought bag after bag and set them on the chairs scattered around the porch. Each bag placed where the guy told him to put it. He was young enough to be brash and bold.

“Hey Sir, I know it is my job to deliver your groceries. But why don’t you come grab a bag or two? Are you hurt or something?”

Mike and his wife were listening intently for the Neighbor’s answer.

“I am sorry. I can’t help unload. I can’t leave the porch. Ever.”

“Why? Do you have acrophobia or something. I heard about that in my Freshman Psychology class…they can treat that you know.”

The neighbor shook his head in a slow dismissal of any hope.

“No…its not that at all. (Pointing to his lawn)

“It’s my yard."

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