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What Happened
to Charlie

Glenda bustled around the kitchen, washing up the breakfast dishes by scrubbing them clean before putting them in the dishwasher. If Harold saw her doing that, he’d be asking yet again why they’d even bothered to get a dishwasher.  She glanced out the breakfast nook window.  She was so glad she’d talked Harold into taking out the small window and putting in a large bay window.  It just brightened up the kitchen and allowed her to look out at a few of her neighbors.

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Glenda glanced at her neighbor Charlie’s backyard. Where was Charlie these days? Glenda had gotten used to seeing him out puttering around his backyard over the years, working on one project or another. She’d often waved at him out the window. Glenda poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down at the table.  Why, this time of year Charlie would be taking the screens off the windows and putting on the storms.  He was one of the few neighbors who still had those old-fashioned windows. She couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been since she’d seen Charlie’s wife, Maxine.  Charlie and Maxine Clancy had been Harold and Glenda’s neighbors for years. It was too bad that the men hadn’t gotten along that well but she and Maxine always had a great time discussing the neighborhood happenings. She missed gossiping with Maxine and anyway, where was Charlie? He was always out in the backyard.  Maxine used to say he lived out there. 

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Glenda sighed.  She looked around and realized the kitchen was sparkling, the living room and dining room had been dusted and vacuumed, and she’d finished reorganizing the books in the study. It was difficult sometimes to find things to do.  She’d spent so many years helping Harold run the hardware store, and raising Thomas and Lucinda. But now the children were grown and the hardware store had been sold.  Harold was thrilled with retirement, more time for fishing, having breakfast with his cronies, and hunting, of course.  But Glenda sometimes found it hard to fill her day. She glanced out at Charlie’s empty backyard.  Maybe she’d make some muffins and take them over to Charlie and Maxine.  They both just loved her muffins. 

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Looking out the window once more, she noticed a dark blue Toyota in Charlie and Maxine’s driveway.  I guess they had company again.  She’d seen that car several times in the past week.  The people getting out of the car carried briefcases and wore suits and they certainly looked important. Whoever they were, they had become regular visitors. 

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Glenda was happier now that she had a project.  She prided herself on being an outstanding cook.  What muffins should she make? Hers always got eaten first at the Methodist Church’s fellowship. Glenda remembered that Maxine had mentioned that she particularly loved her broccoli and cheese muffins.  Soon, the muffins were baking and Glenda was waiting at the table, flipping through an old magazine. She longed for the day when her regular ladies’ magazines had been delivered with the mail.  But the magazines had changed so much and several had gone out of business, so she didn’t subscribe anymore. She was going to have to find recipes in other places, perhaps the internet if her son, Thomas, could teach her how to use it. 

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Packing up the muffins in an attractive wicker basket, she covered them with a cloth napkin. Glenda buttoned her coat, picked up the basket, and walked next door.  What a nice idea to visit Charlie and Maxine, she thought.  She and Maxine could have a good old-fashioned chat. The doorbell had a note saying broken, so Glenda knocked loudly on the front door several times.  A rather disheveled Maxine answered the door and stood there, staring at Glenda. 

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“I’ve brought you some muffins,” Glenda announced brightly.

 

Maxine just stared at Glenda as if she didn’t recognize her. A voice from the living room called out, “Who is it?” That seemed to jerk Maxine out of her trance and she promptly slammed the door in Glenda’s face.  Glenda just stood there, shocked. Whatever is going on, she thought. Slowly, basket in hand, she walked back to the house.  I’ll have to tell Harold about this.  What is wrong with Maxine?  And that voice calling from the living room wasn’t Charlie’s.  Where was he, anyway? Had Charlie gotten sick and Maxine hadn’t told her. 

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Glenda sat back down in her kitchen and gazed forlornly out the window at Charlie’s back yard. There was the unfinished dog run he’d been building.  Why hadn’t Charlie finished it?  Of course, that yappy dog Maxine and Charlie had brought home had nearly driven the neighborhood crazy.  All the thing did was howl and bark all night.  It had become impossible to leave the windows open that summer. Harold had been so angry when the dog escaped to their yard and proceeded to dig up part of the vegetable garden.  The tomatoes had never recovered. What had happened to the dog? There hadn’t been any barking for quite a while. 

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The next morning Glenda ate her breakfast sitting in the breakfast nook, and staring out the window. Still no Charlie! Perhaps Maxine and Charlie would like a nice casserole, that’s what I’ll make.  Glenda loved baking and soon a tuna casserole was bubbling away in the oven.  A good casserole always makes everyone feel better, she said to herself.  

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After the casserole had cooled, Glenda carefully put the dish in a warming container, buttoned up her coat, and walked over to Maxine and Charlie’s house.  Brad, from down the street, was out walking his dog.

 

“Glenda, where are you going with that food?” he called out cheerfully.  

 

“Over to Maxine’s and Charlie’s.  I haven’t seen Charlie out working in his yard.  I’m hoping everything is okay.” 

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Brad stopped right in front of Glenda. “Are you okay?” 

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“Of course I am.”  Indignantly, Glenda started to walk around Brad. 

 

Brad looked at Glenda anxiously.   “Why don’t you come over to the house? Mabel was just saying she hadn’t seen you for a while and I know she’d love to chat.”

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“How lovely! Tell Mabel I’ll be there right after I deliver this casserole to Maxine and Charlie. You know I haven’t seen Charlie for a while.  I hope he’s not sick.” 

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Brad was starting to look panicked.  “I don’t think this is a good idea, Glenda.” He took Glenda’s arm. 

Glenda look surprised. “Brad, what are you doing? Let go of me,” and she jerked her arm away and walked up to Maxine and Charlie’s front porch.  Brad followed, looking very distressed.  Glenda knocked hard on the front door and after several minutes, Maxine answered.

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Maxine stared at Glenda and said, “You’re out of your mind, Glenda.” With an air of resignation, she said, “Brad, get this woman off my porch, now.”  And pointing a finger at Glenda her voice hardened, “you ever come on my property again, I’m calling the police,” and she slammed the door. 

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“Well, I never! What has gotten into Maxine?  What’s wrong with her? I wish Charlie had answered the door.  I just know he loves my tuna casserole.”  Two large tears dripped down Glenda’s face. 

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Brad gently took Glenda’s arm.  “Let’s go over to your house and call your son, Glenda.  I think you’re a little confused.” 

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“I’m really worried about Charlie, Brad. He hasn’t been out in the backyard all week. What did Maxine do with him? His dog run isn’t even finished and I’m sure he wants it done before winter.” 

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Brad sat Glenda down at a chair in the breakfast nook, got Thomas’s phone number, and moved into the living room to talk to him.  All Glenda could hear was ‘uh huh, and ‘confused,’ and ‘Maxine and Charlie.’ 

 

Returning to the kitchen, Brad said, “I’m so glad Thomas lives near you, he’ll be right over.” 

When Thomas arrived, he sat down across from his mother and said, “What’s going on, Mom? Why do you keep trying to deliver food to the Maxine and Charlie Clancy? 

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By now Glenda was wringing her hands and looking distraught. “I don’t understand Thomas, I was just being neighborly. Maxine is one of my good friends and I haven’t seen Charlie outside all week. Let’s wait until Harold gets home, I’m sure he will work it out.” 

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“Mom, Dad died three weeks ago. Don’t you remember?"

 

Glenda just stared at Thomas with a worried frown on her face.

 

Gently, Thomas continued. “He hated Maxine and Charlie Clancy’s dog and he came home, discovered the dog had dumped over both garbage cans, went to the basement, got his gun, and shot the dog.  Remember?”

 

Glenda shook her head.

 

“Then Charlie Clancy went in his house, got his hunting rifle and killed Dad as he was picking up the garbage can.  You can’t be neighborly with the Clancys and Charlie is in jail for killing your husband and my father.  Charlie is never ever going to be in his backyard again. That’s what happened to Charlie.

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"Mom, we’re going to get you some help.  This whole tragedy has been a terrible shock for you. You’re going to stay with Denise and me until we can figure out what to do."

 

 Glenda looked around her bright and shiny kitchen and realized she was never coming back. How she would miss cooking. She’d never sit down with her coffee, look out at Charlie’s backyard and wonder what he was building next.  Glenda picked up her coat, walked out the door, and climbed into her son’s car. 

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