Janet

I met Janet only weeks after moving into our house. It was the evening that she stopped by to give my parents a copy of the Chicago Republican as a “welcome to the neighborhood” token. Janet’s house, located on the corner of Washington and Arbor, provides her with an advantageous perch from which she observes all of the happenings of the neighborhood. If something happens on our block, Janet is sure to know about it. If Janet knows about it, then so do all of the neighbors.

Janet is a gangly woman in her late fifties with auburn hair that falls into a bob just above her jaw line. She’s sarcastic and stingy with a perennially knitted brow and wears an ever-present scowl. Oh, and did I mention…Janet also happens to be bipolar.

I remember the day that Janet asked my brother, Drew, to transport a truckload of five gallon water jugs from her truck to her basement. Afterwards to express her appreciation, she gave my brother a box of saltine crackers that had expired two weeks earlier.

On a different occasion, Janet asked my younger sisters to dog-sit for four days while she was away on vacation. When she got back, she gave my sisters two dollars…total.

But Janet’s stinginess is merely the tip of a very, very large iceberg.

It was after 11pm on a Friday evening. My family and I were in the middle of watching a movie when the doorbell rang. My dad went to the door and lo and behold, Janet stood there in her flannel nightgown and flip-flops. “I just want you to know that Tom is away for the weekend.” “Okay,” my dad replied. “I’m going to be sleeping with the car alarm under my pillow,” she continued. “So if you hear the car alarm go off at any point, it means that I’m in danger.” “Do you know when—” my dad could scarcely get the words out of his mouth before Janet replied, “I have to go,” and turned and walked down the porch steps.