The Man in the Red House

Archie had lived in the red house for twenty-six years before Evelyn moved in across the street. It had seen the latter half of his marriage, three kids leaving home, four dogs, and as of recent years, the death of his wife. At seventy-three, Archie wasn’t expecting anything or anyone to change his mind. He was old. The only change he was willing to accept was the adoption of his cat, Ladybug, and the perpetual transformation of his garden.

The introduction of Evelyn and her husband, Isaac, was at first an unwelcome one. They arrived on a sunny day in February, unusually sunny enough that Archie’s hands were able to stand the biting cold to dig up last year’s lily bulbs. Lilies were poisonous to cats, after all. Isaac and the movers were noisy when they unpacked the trucks, his two-finger point harsh and his voice ringing. Evelyn mostly stood beside him and grimaced apologetically at the workers, sometimes directing, always gentle in her movements.

They settled down, though. A week in, they rang his doorbell with a pie and a small orchid plant. Safe for cats, Archie thought to himself. Guess they can’t be too bad. “I hope you like apple,” Evelyn smiled. She had dark hair and rosy cheeks and smelled of flowers.

“Thank you very much, I’ll be sure to return the favor,” Archie told her, shaking Isaac’s cold hand.

“Oh, there’s no need,” Isaac’s eyes darkened, and he gripped Archie’s hand tightly. “Keep the pie tin,” he grinned as they left, hand tense on the small of Evelyn’s back.

#

Evelyn and Isaac reminded him of his own relationship with his wife, prior to his retirement, and later, her death. Their routine every weekday morning was the same. The lights came on at seven. Archie knew this because he was up by five-thirty most mornings. In his youth, he had been a sound sleeper, but he was restless now. It worked out well though; he preferred to walk the dogs before anyone else was up and about.

Evelyn was always up first. Archie liked to sit in the living room facing the window to watch the sunrise, and he would see her silhouetted in the kitchen. Isaac joined her around seven-thirty, always slipping his hands around her waist and kissing her neck.

Sometimes it seemed that Isaac was gripping her arms too tightly. Sometimes Archie thought he saw Evelyn flinch a little when her husband turned towards her. But what did he know—he was old, his eyesight was going, and the dim light could be playing tricks. And anyway, he was no longer in the habit of involving himself with the neighbors, or anyone, really.

#

Not long after moving in, Isaac and Evelyn threw a housewarming party: open invite to everyone on the block. Archie hadn’t planned on going. He hadn’t interacted with his neighbors in a long time, so long in fact that most of the original inhabitants had moved away. But Ladybug was curious about the noise, and Archie about the smell of cooking food, so he decided to make his way over.

“Just for a few minutes,” he told Ladybug, lifting her into his arms.

Archie approached the front door, but a sign stating “Party in the back!” redirected him. He approached the back gate, and briefly considered turning around—it was loud, and the voices inside were all young. But before he could make up his mind, the gate swung open.

“Oh-em-gee, a cat!” Two women swarmed him. He flinched away, but they persisted. “What a beautiful calico!” one of the women, the taller one, reached her hand towards Ladybug, who headbutted it happily. She always loved new people.

“Oh, she’s such an angel,” the first woman said as Ladybug sniffed her hand. “What’s her name?”

Archie felt himself relax slightly. “Ladybug… She’s about thirteen months old.”

“How precious,” the girls giggled and walked off.

Archie breathed a sigh of relief, Ladybug content in his arms. He made his way through the gates. Tables were set up, draped in floral tablecloths and covered with food. He eyed it anxiously; he hadn’t had anything other than his own cooking in a long time, which was barely passable as cooking at all. Does it count as cooking if you don’t use any heat? He had found himself wondering on many occasions. He made his way through the sparse crowd of well-dressed people. For the first time in years, he felt a little ashamed of his worn-in slacks and faded button down. But none of them gave him a second glance.

He filled a ceramic plate with cornbread and pulled pork. There were brownies too, decadent on their pretty glass plate. These were the kind of people who took their brownies out of the pan and cut them up. These were the kind of people his wife wanted so desperately to be like, the kind of people that he always resented for making her feel like the life he had built for them wasn’t enough.

“Oh, excuse me,” a woman bumped into him, spilling a drink on his arm. “I’m so sorry, let me get you a paper towel.”

Archie’s fist clenched instinctively. Ladybug meowed in his arms, and he relaxed. “No worries. Accidents happen,” he said gruffly. He set Ladybug down, looping her leash around his wrist.

“I really am sorry,” the woman dabbed at his arm with a napkin. “I’m Noel, by the way. Over there is my husband Leon,” she pointed towards a tall, ginger-haired man, who waved.

Archie waved back hesitantly. “Nice to meet you, I’m Archie.”

“How do you know the Coopers?” Noel asked.

“The Coopers?”

“Isaac and Evelyn.”

“Oh, I live across the street,” Archie told her.

“Ah, you can keep an eye on them now instead of us,” Noel laughed. “We all used to be roommates in college—those two are always getting in trouble.”

Archie chuckled. “That’s nice that you’re all still friends,”

“It is,” Noel smiled. “Well, I’d better be off. Leon and I are just finishing our rounds before we leave.” They bade their goodbyes. More confident, Archie strolled around the garden, admiring all the places one could plant the perfect rose.

Archie was very nearly having a good time when Ladybug started kicking at the grass, a surefire sign she was about to try and use it as her own personal litter box. He picked her up before she could. It was a welcome excuse to leave… Best not to get too talkative with the neighbors.

The lot next to Isaac and Evelyn’s home was empty and extended far back into the woods. He took Ladybug and the dogs there on walks sometimes. It was a sandy, grassy playground for them, and he loved to see the wildflowers when they were blooming. But tonight, he wasn’t the only one there. As Ladybug searched for the perfect place to do her business, Archie heard voices. He made his way towards the bushes where the sound was coming from before realizing that he really had no intention of talking to them. It’s not like they were trespassing anymore than he was. Still, something in him was curious. He knelt to tie his shoe and listen for a moment.

“I won’t have you running your mouth about our financial business again,” the voice was quiet but harsh. Peering up through the bushes, Archie could make out Isaac and Evelyn. His hands held her wrists so tightly that they looked white.

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn’s chin quivered and she looked down, the leaves obscuring the top half of her face.

Isaac’s hands let go of Evelyn’s, and Archie almost breathed a sigh of relief, but the ringing sound of a slap caused the breath to catch in his throat. He gasped, and Isaac’s eyes met his through the bushes. He stumbled back, landing on his bottom: surely the grass would stain, but it was no matter. He leapt to his feet. The adrenaline made him feel like a younger man, but he remembered this anxious tightness in his chest, and it wasn’t worth it.

Isaac was still staring at him through the bushes. Evelyn clutched her cheek. Archie met Isaac’s eyes, turned slowly, grabbing Ladybug’s leash, and made his way home.

#

In late March, there was a knock at Archie’s door. Archie looked through the peephole: Evelyn and Isaac, the former holding a plate and looking quite nervous, the latter with a bottle of wine and a boisterous grin. It had been over three weeks since the party, and Archie had barely seen them since. Every time Evelyn walked Isaac to his car in the mornings or accompanied him out while Archie was sitting on his porch, she avoided Archie’s gaze. Isaac always waved. He supposed it wasn’t a surprise that they were here now.

He unlocked the door.

“Oh, I’m so glad to have caught you,” Evelyn smiled cheerfully.

“More pie?” Archie joked. Isaac smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Ah, I wish!” Evelyn chuckled. “Brownies, this time.”

Archie accepted the plate graciously. “Wow, are these the same ones you had at the housewarming party? They were delicious.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn blushed. “It was my grandmother’s recipe.”

Isaac held out the wine. “Not sure if you drink, but this is a great Pinot from my friend’s vineyard down in California.”

“Thank you,” Archie balanced the plate in one hand, taking the wine in the other. “Can I invite you in?”

The married couple looked at each other, and Isaac held out his hand for Evelyn to go ahead.

“Don’t mind the dogs, they’re friendly,” Archie said, nearly tripping over one of his greyhounds, Lila. “I have lemonade and some cookies, if you’re interested? They’re from a box, so don’t get your hopes up about the quality.”

“That’s alright,” Isaac said at the same time as Evelyn replied, “Sounds lovely!”

“Whatever she wants,” Isaac smiled tightly.

Archie made his way to the kitchen, setting the wine down carefully and pouring lemonade for his guests.

“Stupid dogs stinking up the place,” he heard Isaac mutter to Evelyn. Archie added ice to the drinks—less for Isaac—and made his way back into the living room.

“So, we just wanted to stop to say that we hope you enjoyed the party a few weeks ago,” Evelyn started.

“Right, just wanted to swing by,” Isaac added. “We’re trying to get off on the right foot with the neighbors, you know?”

“Of course,” Archie folded his hands in his lap.

“So, are we? Off on the right foot?”

Archie stared at Isaac. “I should think so, do you?”

“I agree,” Isaac smiled and sipped his lemonade. “So, beautiful garden you have here. My wife takes an interest in gardening as well, but we’ve never had property with enough

light for it.”

Archie smiled. Finally something he could talk about. “Well, I’m always happy to give you some pointers. What’s in season, and whatnot. I built a small pond last year as well, if you’re interested in that kind of thing.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Evelyn exclaimed. “I’m not sure where to start, and I would love some ideas. Say Saturday morning? If that’s okay with you, Isaac.”

“Sure,” he relented. At that moment Dory, the Great Dane, licked his hand. “Agh!”

“I’m so sorry about that,” Archie said apologetically. Evelyn was stifling a smile. “There’s a washroom down the hall and to the left.”

Isaac left the room, lip curled. Archie waited until he heard the bathroom door click closed.

“Are you okay?” Archie asked Evelyn after a moment of silence. “Do you need help?”

“I want to leave,” Evelyn told him. Her eyes unwaveringly met his.

Archie gripped her hands, eyes welling up. “You must try. I knew a woman once… I knew a woman who was being abused by her husband.”

Evelyn looked up curiously at him.

“She never left,” Archie told her. “She died unhappy. It is… I have a lot of regrets. If there is anything I can do…”

At that moment, Isaac opened the bathroom door. Archie quickly released Evelyn’s hands.

“We’d best be going. Nice chatting with you, Archie,” Isaac pulled his wife up. Archie hoped he hadn’t seen their touching hands, now that he knew the temper he had. “Sure,” Archie stood awkwardly, brushing imaginary crumbs from his jeans. “I guess I’ll see you on Saturday then.” Evelyn smiled gratefully. Isaac smiled too, his eyes familiarly cold.

#

Archie’s days were painfully mundane, and he was grateful for the distraction of gardening with Evelyn. They met every Saturday morning at one house or the other, always in the front yard—that was all Isaac allowed. “I don’t want the neighbors to see my wife going somewhere private with another man,” Archie had overheard Isaac say one day when Evelyn asked if she could show Archie the backyard. As soon as he returned from golfing, Evelyn would stand up in a hurry. “He just likes to get his snack when he gets home,” she would tell him.

“What was your wife like?” Evelyn asked one day. They were sitting on his porch, taking a break from the hot sun. She had a bruise on her arm the same color as the mango iced tea she brought over. Archie had never tried mangos until now, and he wasn’t sure he liked them. “I’ve seen the pictures in your living room, but you never mention her.”

Archie’s hand slipped a little on the condensation of the glass and he set it down quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evelyn flinch at the sudden movement. Ladybug, who was sitting on her lap, stirred, but soon relaxed again. The young cat had taken quite the liking to Evelyn.

“She was lovely,” he answered. Suddenly, there was a rock in his throat. “Really lovely. She passed about ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said. “My mom lost my dad a few years ago. It was very hard on her.”

Archie nodded. He wrung his hands, popped the knuckle of his thumb. It wasn’t ready; it cracked sharply.

“Did you have kids?”

“Three,” he forced himself to meet her eyes. “They’re all grown up. I haven’t seen them since the funeral; they live far away.” Evelyn reached over and put her warm hand on his. “I’m sorry, Archie.”

Archie looked away. “They have good reason not to see me. I don’t blame them for not visiting.” It was true that he didn’t blame them—in fact, he was thankful for it. His sons had been hotheaded and his daughter had been meek but direct, like her mother. Grown up, with their anger and resentment, he wondered what they could do to him.

“My wife loved gardening,” Archie added after a moment. “I let everything grow over after she died. I only started taking care of it again about three years ago.”

“Well, it looks beautiful,” Evelyn smiled. “I’m sure she would be very proud.”

#

Archie was standing on his porch one day, using the door to fan out the house. Evelyn had written down her brownie recipe for him, and he’d tried to make it—disaster. He stomped his foot when Ladybug dashed out without her harness, and scurried into the bushes.

“Ladybug,” he cried angrily, letting the door bang shut. She had made it under the thorny raspberry bush and meowed at him happily when he knelt to look at her. She was completely out of reach.

Archie took a deep breath and sat back on his knees. This wasn’t the first time she had done this, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was fine. He would hang out in the garden with her, and eventually she would come out. He wouldn’t normally be so anxious, but he had recently planted hemlock in his backyard, near the koi pond, and he was nervous about her eating it.

“Archie, right?” the voice snapped him back to the present. “It’s Noel! From the party?” He hadn’t heard anyone pull up, but there she was, curly hair tied in a cloud on her head. She and her husband walked over in what could only be described as an enthusiastic trot.

“Oh, hello,” Archie stood, shaking hands with the husband. Leo, or Leon…

“Leon, nice to officially meet you,” he smiled.

“You as well,” Archie looked over their shoulders towards Evelyn’s house. “Plans with the Coopers?”

“You could say that,” Noel smiled tightly. “Evelyn has some family in town who Isaac isn’t a fan of, so we’re taking her out to dinner to see them. Don’t mention it to Isaac, alright? I’m sure you’ve seen how he can be.”

“Do you mean…” Archie’s voice trailed off. Did they know? They were her friends; they would know, right? His eyes darted between the two.

“Evelyn told us she confided in you,” Leon told him affirmatively, clutching his wife’s hand.

“We’re glad she has more people in her corner,” Noel smiled. “Well, it was great to see you.”

Archie nodded. As they walked away, Ladybug darted out from under the bushes and jumped out at Archie’s legs. He scooped her up. His mind was reeling. Evelyn had people. Why was she talking to him? Did she even need his help at all?

As he looked back out towards the Coopers’ house, he could see Evelyn greeting Noel and Leon at the door. From the window, he could see Isaac. He wasn’t sure, but Isaac seemed to be staring right at him.

#

“I’ve gotten a job,” Evelyn told him one day, red flushing up her neck as she dug in the soft soil. “I told Isaac it was a volunteer position at the community center, but it’s paid. I asked them to send my checks here, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Archie staked his small hand shovel into the planting bed. “What happens if he finds out?”

Evelyn sat back, brushing the hair out of her face with the back of her hand, dirt smudging on her forehead. “I’ll tell him that I didn’t know it was paid. That I must have put my address down wrong.”

“You don’t think he’ll come over here asking about the checks?” Archie asked, white eyebrows furrowing together. He was afraid for her, and selfishly, a little afraid for himself. He had seen what Isaac could do to a woman, to his own wife; he knew Isaac had little regard for the elderly and worried that whatever could happen to him would be worse.

“I’ve told him that your memory is going,” Evelyn told him sheepishly. “But I don’t think he’ll suspect anything. I just can’t give him any reason to. I’ll have to be good.” Archie looked down at the ground, at the dark dirt and the line of holes and the pale peas in each hole.

“If being ‘good’ was enough, you wouldn’t be trying to leave.”

#

Evelyn proved to be right—Isaac didn’t catch on, and every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, Evelyn would bike down to the community center when Isaac left for work, always back by 4:30 to make him dinner. The checks came every two weeks, and Archie religiously stowed them in his living room, tucked between his late wife’s recipe books. Archie was right too though—the abuse didn’t stop.

One night, Archie was awoken suddenly. He laid sleepily in his bed, confused, before a loud voice carried across the street and through the open window. He shuffled over, joints creaking. A car had pulled up outside of Evelyn’s home, parked haphazardly on the driveway. The porch light was out; the blinding LED headlights of the car silhouetted what he recognized as the halo of Noel’s curls. He watched, curious, and ashamed at his curiosity. When the door opened, there was no yelling—he could only assume Evelyn had opened it.

He watched Noel and her boyfriend grab the shoulders of a figure to support her. The light obscured most everything, but what he saw was tinged in red. Noel and Leon practically carried Evelyn to the car. The doors slammed shut, the engine hummed, and then the street was quiet again.

Archie waited. A few minutes passed, and the kitchen light came on. A shadow appeared inside the door, closing it noiselessly. Isaac’s silhouette held a bottle. Archie imagined blood dripping from it, and shuddered. He pictured the bottle cracking on Evelyn’s pale temple, leaving behind bright blood and fizzing beer.

He felt the acid rise in his throat, and he gagged. Nothing came up. Ladybug, disturbed by the noise, ran out from her seat at the foot of his bed. He hadn’t thrown up since his kids had the stomach bug back in elementary school—he wouldn’t start now. He swallowed hard and crawled back into bed.

#

In August, the day arrived that Evelyn planned to leave. It was a Thursday, so hot and muggy that when Archie stepped outside to check for mail, it felt like breathing in honey. Evelyn had gotten her wrist cast off last week. Her bruises from the attack when her friends had to take her to the ER were long healed.

The community center was planning an event that week, and for all Isaac knew, that was where Evelyn was. But in reality, she was packing a bag and her important documents, and getting ready to leave.

Archie’s wife had left behind an old VW bug in their garage. He had offered it to Evelyn when they first started planning her escape. She’d refused. “This is practically a piece of art,” she had told him. He hadn’t worn her down, but just in case, had taken it to get new plates and transfer the title to her name, and had parked it safely in front of his house once Isaac left for work.

Evelyn stopped by around four. Archie knew it was goodbye, and his hands, holding Evelyn’s latest check and a small envelope with a few hundred dollars, shook when he answered the door. Ladybug purred happily by his feet, unaware of the sobriety of the situation.

“Thank you, Archie, for everything,” Evelyn said, petting Ladybug. Her voice was confident in a way it hadn’t been until now. “You helped save me. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Please,” Archie gripped her hands. “Don’t do that. That story I told you about the woman who was being abused? The one who died? That was my wife. I hurt my wife. I had to help you. I had to.”

Evelyn’s shocked face stared back at him, but there was no time to unpack it. Archie pressed the car keys and envelopes into her hands, chest heavy with guilt. “Please, go. Take the car. Let me do this for you.”

Evelyn grasped his hands around the keys before finally taking them. As she turned away, decades worth of tears dripped down Archie’s face. He watched through the open door as she packed her bags into the little car. Ladybug meowed at his feet. The car rumbled, the engine turned on. Archie sank to his knees as she drove away. She didn’t wave goodbye.