Bear the Great – Chapter Ninety-nine.
Chris Rodriguez’s head had never been screwed on exactly straight. He’d done fine in school, especially when it came to math and science. Early on they called him “gifted.” Also “on the spectrum.” He’d never really cared what anyone called him as long as they stayed out of his face. He graduated from high school around middle of the pack. “Wasted potential” was what his guidance counsellor had written. But Chris simply didn’t care. He enrolled in a tech training course at the local community college and earned an associate’s degree in programming. After that, a tech job where he didn’t have to do any customer interface? As far as Chris was concerned, that was pretty close to perfect.
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He met Julianne Acosta at a church social his parents had forced him to go to. He’d rather have stayed home and played Grand Theft Auto or Call of Duty. But mom and dad were insistent, so he went. There was no mistaking the dark-haired beauty for any kind of shrinking violet. She was pretty with a kind of Neve Campbell vibe. But her braying laugh was LOUD, and that seemed to keep most of the other boys at bay. Chris thought most of the other boys were flat-out stupid, and Julianne’s laugh didn’t annoy him too much. When she noticed him noticing her, she asked him to dance. He didn’t say “yes” – for the life of him he couldn’t meet her eyes – but he did get to his feet. That was something at least.
They were married by the priest at St. Aloysius the summer after he earned his associate’s degree. By then he was working crazy hours at a small computer start-up, and she earned a little extra cash doing dog grooming from home. They thought about having kids, but something was amiss. It was never clear which of them lacked the requisite plumbing. But neither of them was really much interested in having it diagnosed or treated. It was God’s will.
Chris kept his head down at work and at home and let Julianne do most of the talking whenever they were out in public. For her part, she poured all her excess energy into the dogs. It was never a match made in heaven. But it was a life, and that was good enough for both of them.
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The trouble with the HOA started after Penny died. Penny had been their next door neighbor, and she was a non-stop riot. Before her retirement she’d been a successful real estate agent. Afterward, Penny always brandished a vodka martini in one hand starting daily at 4PM. Her other hand usually held an unfiltered Camel, but that was all day long. The smoke curled up into her leathery face and made her squint. She was a sassy smart-ass, and that always made Julianne laugh. Chris just tolerated her. But then, that was his stance toward pretty much everybody.
Angina and COPD made it hard for Penny to climb stairs. So she put up wood paneling in the front office on the ground floor and turned it into her bedroom. That’s where they found her after the heart attack. Lips blue, face gray, and most definitely dead as a doornail. Her family came and cleared out her stuff, then put her place on the market. After six months, it finally sold.
The new neighbors were non-smokers. That was something at least. They rarely drank vodka martinis. Although they were cordial enough, when Julianne got into a fracas over one HOA infraction or another with Bob, the Board President, they backed off and didn’t seem to take her side. The not-to-code hand rails on the outdoor steps. The drainage issues when it rained. The roof replacement. The security cameras. It was just one damn thing after another.
Julianne had learned early on the value of forging ahead. Of doubling down and taking-no-prisoners. When in doubt, threaten litigation, that was her creed. In fact, maybe that’s what endeared her to Chris in the first place. By contrast, he’d rather swallow battery acid than confront anybody directly about anything. But unfortunately it did not make either one of them very popular with the neighbors in general. Or with Bob the HOA Board Chair in particular.
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It was always hard to tell what Chris was thinking. He was an odd duck, also a bit of a wild card. His devotion to Julianne was absolute. But, truth to tell, he was always a little fearful she would leave him. So, whenever she said “Jump,” he didn’t ask “How high?” He just jumped. If she had a problem with Bob, or with any of their neighbors, he took it to heart.
That’s what really got him most exercised about that asshole next door giving their security cam the early morning middle finger every day on his way out the door. And cutting the camera wires too, he was pretty sure. He could tell that the guy over there was a smart-ass, but not in a good way like Penny had been. So, being a problem-solver, he resolved to do something about it. Something lasting and final that would let Julianne know once and for all that he could be counted on no matter what.
They’d been renovating their place inside and out for nearly two years straight. Always the constant racket of hammer, drill, and saw. They’d gone through 3 or 4 different contractors already. It was never good enough for Julianne. It seemed like maybe this remodel thing might go on forever. Their garage was filed with building materials and hand tools, so they’d begun parking their cars in the communal spots outside. Yet another point of friction with the HOA. But that’s where he’d gotten the kernel of an idea. A plan began to form in his brain.
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The problem was, although the timing was usually the same, he could never be sure where that guy was going to head off to around sunrise each day. There was no discernable pattern. And patterns were what Chris lived for. He followed the guy’s car at a discrete distance a couple of times. But one day it would be just a mile or so to the State Park next door. Then the next day it was way the hell over the mountain to some place 45 minutes away. No way in God’s green earth he could scout out every single potential trail that guy might be hiking.
He finally figured out that if the final destination was the State Park, the guy would have to take the first right hand turn outside their development. From that right, the State Park was the only place he could possibly go. So, that simplified things by a lot. It just required enough patience to wait for a day when he took that turn. After that, the only tools needed were a shovel and a spare hammer from the garage.
Things were always much simpler if you broke them down into their component parts. And analytical thinking had always been Chris’ strong suit.