Arthur Caldwell woke Monday morning to the sound of hammering. Not ordinary hammering. This was enthusiastic hammering.
It began at 7:03 a.m. Three sharp bangs. Then silence. Two bangs. A pause. Then what sounded suspiciously like somebody dropping a toolbox.
Arthur opened his eyes. Hank was already awake. The dog lifted his head from the foot of the bed. Arthur stared at the ceiling. "No." Hank's ears perked up. "Don't even think about it." Hank jumped off the bed. Arthur sat up. "I said no." Hank walked toward the window. Arthur followed him. He looked outside.
Across the street, the Bellamy sisters were gathered around something in their front yard. Arthur couldn't see what it was. He could see Vivian in a sunhat. Martie holding a hammer. Lou standing on a stepladder.
Arthur frowned, "What in creation are those women doing now?" Hank barked. Arthur nodded. "Exactly."
At 7:17, Arthur poured his coffee.
At 7:21, the hammering started again.
At 7:25, Lou shouted, "VIVIAN!"
Vivian shouted back, "What?"
"I THINK IT'S CROOKED!"
"HOW CROOKED?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
"THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW IT'S CROOKED?"
"BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S THINKING!"
Arthur nearly choked on his coffee. He set the cup down. "What does that even mean?" Hank wagged his tail. Arthur pointed toward the window. "Don't encourage them." Hank barked.
At 8:00, Arthur finally crossed the street. He told himself he was simply going to ask them to keep the noise down. That was reasonable. Neighborly. Normal.
He walked up the Bellamy driveway.
Martie saw him first. "Oh, good."
Arthur stopped. "Good what?"
"We need another pair of hands."
"No."
Vivian turned. "Arthur!"
"No."
Lou climbed down from the stepladder. "You're just in time."
"No."
"Good morning."
"No."
Lou smiled. "You haven't had breakfast, have you?" Arthur stared at her. "How do you know?"
"Because you look like a man who hasn't had breakfast."
"What does that look like?"
"Grumpy."
Arthur looked at Vivian. "Does she always do this?" Vivian nodded. "Every day."
Martie walked over carrying the hammer. "Arthur, we need you to look at something."
"No."
"You haven't even seen it."
"I've seen enough."
She pointed toward the flower bed. Arthur looked. And stopped. There, in the middle of the garden, was a garden gnome. Except it wasn't a normal garden gnome. It was enormous. At least three feet tall. It had a red hat. A white beard. A fishing pole. And a tiny wooden sign that read:
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD, ART!
Arthur stared. Nobody spoke. Finally he said, "No."
Vivian smiled. "I knew you'd like it."
"I don't like it."
Lou looked hurt. "You haven't gotten to know him."
"He's a gnome."
"You said the same thing about Gerald."
"Gerald is a rooster."
"And now he's part of your kitchen."
Arthur closed his eyes. "How did this happen?"
Martie shrugged. "Community spirit."
"This isn't community spirit."
Vivian put her hand on her hip. "It's a welcome."
"I've already been welcomed."
"Not properly."
"What does properly mean?"
Vivian pointed at the gnome. "That."
Arthur stared at it again. The gnome appeared to be smiling.
Arthur didn't trust him. "Where did you get that?"
Lou raised her hand. "I found him."
"Where?"
"Behind a hardware store."
Arthur slowly turned toward her. "You found a three-foot garden gnome behind a hardware store?"
"Yes."
"And brought it home?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lou looked genuinely surprised by the question. "He looked lonely."
Arthur rubbed his face. "Of course he did."
The sisters had been planning the gnome since the yard sale. They had discovered it behind the hardware store while returning a box of unsold items.
Lou had spotted it first. Vivian had declared it hideous. Martie had said it needed paint. Lou had fallen in love with it immediately. "Look at his little face," she'd said.
"He looks constipated," Martie had answered.
Vivian had walked around it. "His hat is crooked."
Lou had nodded. "He's been through something."
By the time they left, they had bought him. Nobody was quite sure who had paid. Lou claimed it was Vivian. Vivian claimed it was Martie. Martie claimed she had no idea what they were talking about.
The gnome had spent two nights in the Bellamy garage. And now he was standing proudly in the garden. Waiting for Arthur's approval. Which was never going to come.
Arthur walked around him. "Why does he have a fishing pole?"
Lou smiled. "Because you like fishing."
Arthur looked at her. "You gave a gnome my hobby?"
"He needed one."
"You could've given him gardening."
"He doesn't look like a gardener."
Arthur looked at the gnome. "What does he look like?"
"Like he knows how to keep secrets."
Arthur studied Lou. "That's the first sensible thing you've said all morning."
Lou smiled. "Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
Arthur started to walk away. Then he stopped. The sign bothered him. Not because it was ridiculous, but because somebody had painted his name on it. His name. Arthur. Not Mr. Caldwell. Not the man across the street. Not the new neighbor. Arthur.
He turned back. "You made that?"
Martie nodded. "I did."
Arthur touched the sign. The paint was still slightly rough beneath his fingers. "You didn't have to."
Martie shrugged. "We wanted to."
Arthur nodded. For a moment, the grumpiness left his face. "Thank you."
Martie smiled. "You're welcome."
Then Vivian stepped beside her. "I thought we might put another sign beneath it."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What sign?"
Vivian smiled. ART'S HOUSE.
Arthur shook his head. "No."
Lou raised her hand. "What about 'Art's Place'?"
"No."
"'Art's Fishing Hole'?"
"No."
"'Arthur's Kingdom'?"
"Absolutely not."
Lou thought.
"'Gerald's House'?"
Arthur pointed at her. "Don't push me."
Lou giggled.
Later that morning, Arthur was sitting on his porch reading when he heard a car pull up across the street. It was the mail carrier. He watched as the mail was delivered. Then the carrier stopped, and stared at the gnome. Then at the Bellamy sisters. Then back at the gnome. "What is that?"
Vivian answered proudly. "Art's welcome gnome."
The mail carrier looked across the street at Arthur.
Arthur lifted his coffee mug. "Don't ask."
The carrier laughed. "I wasn't going to."
"You were."
"I was."
Arthur shook his head. The carrier drove away. Hank sat beside Arthur. Arthur looked down at him. "You know what the worst part is?" Hank wagged. "I kind of like the sign." Hank leaned against his leg. Arthur sighed. "Don't tell them."
That afternoon, something unexpected happened. Arthur was walking home from the hardware store when he saw Lou sitting on the curb beside the gnome. She wasn't laughing. She wasn't talking. She was simply sitting there.
Arthur stopped. "You all right?"
Lou looked up. "Yes."
"Then why are you sitting on the curb?"
"I'm thinking."
"That's dangerous."
She smiled. "Sometimes."
Arthur sat beside her. For a few moments, they watched the traffic.
Finally Arthur said, "You really thought he looked lonely?" Lou nodded. "He was behind the store."
"So?"
"He was all by himself."
Arthur looked at her. "You do that a lot."
"Do what?"
"Feel sorry for things."
Lou shrugged. "I understand lonely things." Arthur was quiet. Lou looked at him. "You do too." He didn't answer. She didn't push. That was another thing Arthur was beginning to learn about Lou. She could say something profound and then immediately ask whether a squirrel had a birthday.
But she knew when to leave a silence alone. Arthur looked at the gnome. "What's his name?"
Lou smiled. "Percival."
Arthur laughed. "Of course it is."
"Do you like it?" "Not really."
"Me neither."
"Then why did you name him that?"
"I thought he looked like a Percival."
Arthur shook his head. "You are a strange woman."
"I know."
He smiled. "I like you." Lou looked at him. Then she smiled. "I like you too."
Neither one said anything else. Across the street, Vivian watched from the porch. Martie stood beside her. "They're sitting together."
Vivian nodded. "Look at him." "He likes her." "He likes all of us." Martie smiled. "Don't get carried away." Vivian sighed. "Too late."
That evening, Arthur stood in his kitchen. Gerald the ceramic rooster sat on the counter. The blue plates were stacked neatly in the cabinet. The fishing reel Lou had given him was hanging beside the back door.
Hank was asleep on the rug. Arthur looked around. The house no longer looked temporary. There were things in it now. Not many, but enough.
Signs that someone lived there. Signs that someone expected to stay. He walked outside. Across the street, the sisters were sitting on the porch. Vivian waved. Martie waved. Lou lifted both hands.
Arthur shook his head. Then he looked toward the gnome. Percival stood proudly beneath the magnolia tree.
Arthur stared at him. "You know," he said, "you're not so bad."
From across the street, Lou shouted, "HE LIKES YOU!"
Arthur laughed. "I WAS TALKING TO THE GNOME!"
"I KNOW!"
Vivian leaned toward Martie. "He's talking to garden decorations now." Martie nodded. "We've ruined him."
Arthur looked across the street. "You three are trouble." Vivian called back, "And you're stuck with us!"
Arthur smiled. He looked at the three women. Then at Hank. Then at the little house that no longer felt quite so empty. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I suppose I am."
And somehow, that didn't sound like a complaint anymore.