“I guess they found him.” Liam thought.
He'd been expecting it ever since Ben had died. The city’s finest had turned out in force, the flickering lights lit up his living room.
He'd seen the first police car arrive. The police officer had repeatedly knocked on Ben’s door, shouting his name and looking through windows before knocking the door down.
***
Have you ever met someone and taken an instant dislike to them? When Liam looked into Ben’s cold eyes he felt that way.
Over the next few weeks Liam watched his neighbors welcoming Ben to the neighborhood. Everybody seemed to like him. Whenever Liam mentioned Ben to his neighbors he heard the same flattering comments. Yet every time they locked eyes, there was the same cold stare.
One thing that annoyed Liam, was people who leave Christmas decorations up after Christmas.
“Christmas will be back before you know it!” Liam would think every time he saw Christmas decorations in January.
The first day of October, both Ben and Liam decorated for Halloween, Liam loved to make his house look as spooky as possible. The next day Ben began decorating his house for Christmas.
He covered his house with thousands of lights, from the roof, all the way down to the ground. The lawn was covered with various Christmas inflatables and a please stop here Santa sign finished the arrangement. The aroma of cinnamon pine cones drifted with the fall breeze. Liam recognized their stench from the local craft store.
Liam thought Ben had put his Christmas decorations up far too early. The day after Thanksgiving was when you decorated your house for Christmas and New Year’s Day was the day you took them all down. Ben kept his decorations up throughout January and February, finally taking them down in March.
The next few months Liam would see Ben holding conversations with all his neighbors. Lots of laughing, back slapping and hand shaking and in July, Ben hosted an Independence Day barbecue. Everyone on the street except Liam was invited. He sat in his garden, expected to hear his neighbors asking Ben why he hadn’t invited him but no one questioned Liam’s absence.
Liam became depressed. He stopped mowing his lawn and as summer fell into fall his house looked a mess. The neighbourhood committee left him a letter in his mailbox asking him to clean up the front of his house. The letter had been handwritten by Ben, the new president of the neighborhood committee.
“That’s it.” Thought Liam and he went to confront Ben.
Ben opened his door and said “Hi Liam. What can I do for you?”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Liam asked, the handwritten letter in his hand.
“Your house looks a mess. Everyone has commented on it.”
“Everything was fine until you moved in.” Liam snapped.
Ben sighed. “Liam, your house is an eyesore and it’s making the street look bad. Take care of it.”
“How come no one said anything about your Christmas decorations?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“How come you invited everyone to your Independence Day barbecue except me?”
Ben didn’t answer. He stared at Liam with his cold eyes and slammed the door in his face.
“What’s your problem with me?” Liam shouted.
As he turned around he noticed his neighbours had all witnessed and heard everything.
The next day Liam cleaned up the front of his house and kept to himself. He was embarrassed about his confrontation with Ben and avoided everyone.
Another year. Independence Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas all came and went. At the end of February, Ben still had his Christmas decorations up and the street continued to smell of cinnamon pine cones. He must have bought them in bulk from the local craft store. Liam decided to confront Ben about it.
Ben did not want a repeat of the last time they talked outside and invited Liam in. “What can I do for you?” asked Ben.
The smell of cinnamon pine cones was stronger inside.
“When are you taking your Christmas decorations down?”
“What has that got to do with you?”
“It’s almost March.”
“So what.”
“There is no reason why they should be up, take them down.”
“I’ll take them down when I’m good and ready.”
“I insist you take them down now.”
“I've had enough of this. Get out of my house.”
Ben tried to push Liam towards his front door but Liam stood his ground. The two men struggled and Liam pushed him away. Ben stumbled back, lost his footing and fell backwards onto a small brass christmas tree on his fireplace hearth.
Liam stared down at Ben. The christmas tree had gone through his head, popping out between his eyes, blood was pooling around him. Liam backed away. He felt a nervous sweat pour out of his body and his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
“What should I do? Should I call the police? Everybody knew we didn't get along. What if they think I killed him? It was an accident. What if they don’t believe me?"
He closed all of Ben’s curtains and turned all his lights off. He found several bags of cinnamon pine cones and emptied them all around Ben and wiped anything he had touched and took all the empty cinnamon pine cone bags with him.
He left via the back door, climbed over the rear fence and walked through a small area of trees and wild brambles. He paused at a public trash can, disposing of the empty cinnamon pine cone bags before making his way back to the street. As he walked past Ben's house the Christmas lights lit up and the inflatables inflated.
Liam acted normally and made every effort to renew his relationships with his neighbors. Life was good again but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to last. The neighbourhood was wondering where Ben was. His Christmas decorations were still outside, running off an outlet timer and the smell of cinnamon pine cones seemed stronger than ever.
Liam didn't feel guilty about what happened. He didn't like Ben and was glad he was dead. As he looked out his window, he saw two detectives walking towards his front door.
“Should I tell them it was an accident? Will they believe me? Did I cover my tracks? Did I leave evidence in Ben’s house? Have the neighbors told the police that me and Ben didn't get along? What about the cinnamon pine cones? They’ll want to know why I didn’t call 911.”
Ben opened his door.
Bio:
Jason Smith writes out of Olympia, WA. His stories have been published in Short-Story.Me, The Yard Crime Blog and Mystery Tribune.