By Tuesday afternoon, Arthur Caldwell had reached a conclusion. The Bellamy sisters were dangerous. Not dangerous in the ordinary sense. They weren't criminals. They didn't carry weapons. They didn't rob banks. They didn't even speed.
They were dangerous because they had too much time, too much imagination, and absolutely no sense of when to stop.
Arthur had learned this after watching them install a birdhouse. The birdhouse itself wasn't the problem. The problem was where they'd installed it. On his fence. Arthur had discovered it that morning. He had stood in his backyard staring at the little wooden house for nearly a minute.
Then he'd looked across the street. Lou was watering flowers. She waved. Arthur pointed toward the fence. Lou waved again
Arthur crossed the street. "Did you put that birdhouse on my fence?"
Lou smiled. "Yes."
"Why?"
"The birds."
Arthur stared at her. "What about the birds?"
"They need somewhere to live."
"They have trees."
"Not all of them."
"Then put it in your yard."
Lou looked thoughtful. "But the birds like your yard."
"How do you know?"
"They told me."
Arthur closed his eyes. "Of course they did."
Martie came out onto the porch. "What's going on?"
Arthur pointed. "Your sister put a birdhouse on my fence."
Martie looked at it. "That's nice."
"It's on my property."
"It's a birdhouse."
"It's the principle."
Vivian appeared behind her. "Arthur, honey, you're making a fuss over nothing."
Arthur looked at all three of them. "I've got a birdhouse on my fence that I didn't put there."
Lou smiled. "That's how surprises work."
Arthur walked away. "Never mind."
Behind him, Vivian whispered, "He's getting cranky again."
Martie nodded. "Maybe he needs pie."
By two o'clock, the birdhouse had been forgotten. Mostly. Arthur had gone into town.
Martie was inside making biscuits. Vivian was sitting on the porch reading a magazine. Lou was in the backyard. She was supposed to be pulling weeds. Instead, she had found something else. A turtle.
She had named him Earl. Earl had apparently wandered into the flower garden and gotten stuck behind a flowerpot. Lou crouched beside him. "Don't worry, Earl. I'll get you out." The turtle did not respond. Lou nodded. "I understand." She tried lifting the flowerpot. It wouldn't move. She pulled harder. Nothing. She pushed. Still nothing.
Then she got an idea. She went into the garage. Five minutes later, she returned with a garden rake. She placed the rake beneath the flowerpot. "Okay, Earl." She braced herself. "On three." The turtle blinked. "One." Nothing. "Two." Nothing. "Three!" Lou pulled. The flowerpot tipped. The turtle crawled free. Lou smiled. "You did it."
Unfortunately, the flowerpot rolled down the slight slope of the yard, and hit a wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow tipped and struck a lawn chair. The lawn chair fell backward. The hose came loose, and sprayed directly into the air. And because the universe had apparently decided Lou Bellamy needed an interesting afternoon, the stream of water hit Vivian's bedroom window. Vivian screamed.
Martie ran outside. "What happened?" Lou looked around. "I saved Earl."
Martie looked at the overturned flowerpot. The wheelbarrow. The lawn chair. The hose. The soaking wet window. Then at Lou. "From what?"
"Being trapped."
Martie took a breath. "Did the turtle ask for help
Lou frowned. "Not exactly."
"Did he look distressed?"
"He blinked."
"That's what turtles do."
"I thought he was saying thank you."
Vivian came down the porch steps. "My curtains are soaked." Lou looked apologetic. "I'm sorry."
Vivian pointed toward the turtle. "Is that the culprit?"
"No."
"Who is?"
Lou raised her hand. "Me." Vivian nodded. "At least we're making progress."
The problem might have ended there. It should have. But then Vivian noticed something. The water hose had sprayed across the driveway. Right onto the sidewalk. Which meant the sidewalk was wet and slippery. Which meant somebody could fall.
Vivian looked at Martie. "We should put up a warning." Martie nodded. "Good idea."
Lou looked at the turtle. "Do turtles need warning signs?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because they're slow."
Lou thought about that. "That's discriminatory." Before Martie could answer, Vivian disappeared into the garage. She returned carrying a folding yellow sign.
CAUTION — WET FLOOR.
Martie stared at it. "Where did you get that?"
"I bought it."
"When?"
"I don't remember."
"Why?"
Vivian shrugged. "You never know." Lou nodded. "She's right." Martie pointed toward the sidewalk. "Put it there."
Vivian sat the sign in the middle of a puddle, then the three sisters went inside. They had forgotten one very important fact. The sign was facing the street. And Arthur was coming home.
Arthur turned onto the block at 3:12. He noticed the yellow sign immediately. He slowed, then he saw the wet sidewalk. Then he saw the hose. Then the overturned flowerpot. Then the wheelbarrow.
He pulled into his driveway. Hank ran out to greet him. Arthur got out. "What happened?" Hank barked. Arthur looked across the street. The Bellamy house appeared quiet. Too quiet. He walked toward it. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he noticed the sign.
CAUTION — WET FLOOR.
He stopped. "This is a sidewalk." Hank barked. Arthur looked at him. "Don't." He took another step. His shoe slipped slightly, but he caught himself. "Good grief."
Then he heard a voice behind him. "Sir?" Arthur turned. A police cruiser had stopped at the curb. The officer stepped out. "Everything all right?"
Arthur looked at the officer. Then the sign. Then the Bellamy house. "Yes."
The officer looked at the wet sidewalk. "Someone reported a disturbance."
Arthur frowned. "A disturbance?"
"Apparently there was some shouting." Arthur thought about it. "That was probably Lou."
"Who?"
Art pointed at the Bellamy house.
The officer looked toward the house. Three women appeared in the doorway. They froze. Arthur froze. The officer looked at them. Then at Arthur. Then back at them.
"Are you Mr. Caldwell?"
"Yes."
"Do you know those women?" Arthur hesitated. That was a dangerous question. He looked across the street.
Vivian was smiling. Martie looked nervous. Lou was holding Earl.
Arthur sighed. "Unfortunately." The officer smiled. "Are you having a problem with them?"
Arthur considered his answer carefully. He could tell the truth. They were intrusive. They were loud. They had installed a birdhouse on his fence. They had given him a ceramic rooster. They had adopted a dog. They had named a garden gnome. They had brought him pie. They had bought him dishes.
They had invaded his peaceful existence. They were, without question, a problem. But Arthur looked at the three women again.
Lou was holding the turtle like a baby. Vivian was still wearing the same hat. Martie had flour on her shirt. And suddenly Arthur remembered what the house had looked like before they arrived. Empty. Silent. Cold.
He looked back at the officer. "No."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"They're not a problem."
Across the street, Vivian's mouth dropped open. Martie's eyes softened. Lou smiled.
The officer nodded. "Everything okay?"
Arthur looked at the women. "They're just... neighbors."
The officer smiled. "All right."
Then he looked at the turtle. "Is that yours?" Lou called from across the street. "No!"
The officer laughed. "Have a good afternoon."
He got back into his cruiser.
Arthur waited until the car disappeared. Then he turned toward the sisters. They were still standing in the doorway. He crossed the street. "Would somebody like to explain?"
Lou raised her hand.
Arthur pointed. "Not you."
She lowered it.
Vivian stepped forward. "It was an accident."
"What was?"
"The turtle."
"The turtle?"
"His name is Earl."
Arthur stared at her. "Why does the turtle have a name?"
Lou looked offended. "Everybody deserves a name."
Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Why were the police here?"
Martie sighed. "Someone saw the wet sidewalk and thought somebody had fallen." Arthur looked at the sign. Then at the hose. Then at the turtle. Then at the three sisters. "How do you manage to turn watering flowers into a police matter?" Lou shrugged. "We're talented."
Arthur tried not to laugh. He failed. A short burst escaped. The sisters stared at him. Vivian smiled. "You laughed."
"I did not."
"You did."
"No."
Lou grinned. "I heard it."
Arthur shook his head. "I need coffee." Martie immediately said, "I'll make some." Arthur stopped. "No." Martie frowned. "I make good coffee."
"I know."
"Then why not?"
"Because if I come inside, I'll never leave." The sisters looked at each other. Arthur realized what he'd said. He sighed. "That came out wrong." Vivian smiled. "No, honey." She put a hand on his arm. "It came out just fine."
That evening, Arthur sat on his porch. Across the street, the sisters were cleaning up the backyard. Lou carried Earl toward the flower garden. Martie followed her. Vivian stood by the porch, supervising.
Arthur watched them. Hank lay beside his chair. After a while, Lou crossed the street. She stopped at the bottom of his steps. "You want to see something?" Arthur looked suspicious. "What?" She held out her hands. A tiny turtle head peeked through her fingers.
"Earl?" Arthur smiled. "You're keeping him?"
"Until we find his family."
"Turtles don't have families?"
Lou looked at him. "Of course they do."
Arthur nodded. "Right."
Lou sat on the bottom step. For a while they watched the sun go down. Finally she said, "You defended us."
Arthur looked at her. "What?"
"To the policeman."
"I told the truth."
"You could've complained."
Arthur looked across the street. "No."
"Why?"
He thought about it. Then he shrugged. "Because you're my neighbors." Lou smiled. "Is that all?" Arthur looked at her. She was teasing. But not entirely. He smiled. "No." Lou waited. Arthur sighed. "You're my friends."
Lou's eyes softened. Then she leaned over and whispered to Earl, "Did you hear that?"
Arthur laughed. "Don't tell the others." Lou stood. "Too late."
She turned toward the Bellamy house. "EVERYBODY! ART SAYS WE'RE FRIENDS!"
Arthur jumped up. "Lou!" Vivian screamed from across the street. "I KNEW IT!" Martie shouted, "COME OVER FOR SUPPER!" Arthur looked at Lou. "You did that on purpose." Lou smiled. "Maybe." Arthur shook his head. Then he smiled. "You're trouble."
"I know."
He watched her walk away. Hank lifted his head.
Arthur looked down at him. "You know what?" Hank wagged his tail. "I think I'm starting to like trouble."
And across the street, three women began cheering like they'd just won the lottery. Arthur leaned back in his chair. For the first time in years, the sound didn't bother him. It felt like home.