Chapter Text
The ceiling creaked above him. Thuds and steps and muffled yelling. The tell tale signs of someone moving in. And it just filled Jerry’s chest with dread. The apartment above him had been empty for months. He had liked it that way. Less people coming and going that way. He knew it was inevitable but he liked to dream. That he did not have to worry about some new neighbor complaining about the hours he kept, or worse, trying to be friendly. ‘Hello Mr. Dreher, I am your new neighbor up above, if I am ever too noisy please just let me know.’ and the entire time Jerry would just want to die. He did not care, he just wanted to be left alone. Undisturbed. And new neighbors meant disruptions. Many, many, disruptions.
He wished there was a way he could say that he was uninterested in being a neighbor without sounding outwardly rude. He was not anti-social, he just preferred to be alone. It was much easier to be alone. Less variables in being alone. He did not have to take into consideration others thoughts and feelings, there was no anxious feeling of doing something wrong when he was alone. Less overthinking when he was alone. He couldn’t upset people when he was alone. There were no expectations when he was alone. As long as he was alone he was the only one who could pass any judgement on his choices. The rest of the world could melt away. The rest of the world was complicated. But as long as he was here, inside his apartment, he could control what the rest of the world was. Two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room was all he needed to live a fulfilling life. Everything he could ever need or want within those handful of rooms. Never having to go too far. He could be content as long as it was just him. Other people meant dread and anxiety and judgment and shame and he didn’t like those feelings. So he made the easiest choice and just took them out of the equation.
The noises above him though, that meant trouble. That was a new variable that he did not yet know how it fit into his equation of life. New neighbor meant new schedule to track, so that he knew the best times to venture out of his apartment to the mail room or the laundry room. It meant months of disruptions, of accidental bumping into’s, of awkward moments getting mail or doing laundry or simply opening his door to bring his food delivery into his apartment. And every single one of those interactions made Jerry want to curl up in his bed even more. Most of his bed covered in laundry but the part he slept on was clear enough for him to bring his knees up to his chest and lay on his side, trying to not let the anxious thoughts take over. All of the ‘what-if’s’ that plagued his day to day. It paralyzed him in bed, unable to get up, unable to move. Until the noise finally died down and he was able to drag himself out of bed. Mind still buzzing with worry but it was now quiet enough that he could make himself breakfast. Even if it was far past the time for breakfast. He would rather eat his peanut butter toast at 6pm than have his entire day thrown to shambles by missing breakfast. That would have really ruined his day. So he sat at his desk eating ‘breakfast’, checking emails, though he did not have it in him to actually do any work, just look at his ever growing punchlist of tasks and let that dread really sink in.
As the sun set he heard the noise slowly start upstairs again, music playing, feet shuffling, what could only be described as the sounds of unpacking. Jerry made note of it, but it really didn’t mean much. People kept strange hours when they were moving. Sure, was unpacking at 9:30pm less than usual? Yes, but he wasn’t judging. He was a self proclaimed night owl. He didn’t know if it was comforting or unnerving that his new upstairs neighbor might be the same. Comforting because if he had the television or the radio on at odd hours the noise complaints would be less likely. Unnerving because that meant higher likelihood of bumping into someone at midnight laundry. Either way it was still going to be a rough month.
Jacket on, hood up, headphones in, he made his daily trek to the mail room. He kept his head down. Trying his best to walk as quietly as possible. The small room that had all the P.O. style mail boxes already had a person in it, so he waited. Glancing in through the frosted glass trying to see if he could figure out which one of his neighbors it was. Until he was walking out of the room and saying something to him. The music was too loud to make out the words. He didn’t recognize the face. So he just blinked. Until he was able to make out some of the words he was saying based on the way his mouth moved. ‘Please help me.’
Jerry took out his headphones, his hood still up. “Sorry, music.” He said awkwardly.
The stranger nodded, “Oh, no worries, I am a bit of an idiot, is there a trick with the mailboxes? I wanted to be able to open mine before I got any actual mail.”
Jerry looked at him with a blank look, “You turn it clockwise. More than you think.” Was all he was able to get out before his headphones were going back into his ears and he was turning on his heels back towards his apartment. Unable to hear the ‘thank you!’ that was called out after him.
Back in the safety of his apartment he was trying to catch his breath. Spending far too long replaying the interaction in his mind. Trying to shake it. Not really being able to. Like a broken record in his mind. He was hoping he would have a little bit more time before he had to come face to face with the new neighbor. But instead it was the first night. First night and he had ran off. He hoped that maybe that would have sent the right message, that he was not the friendly type. Beware of dog, he might bite. That he would prefer to never interact again.
He laid in bed mostly sleeplessly that night, until it was far too early for any reasonable person to already be up and far too late for any unreasonable person to still be up, the perfect time to not see anyone as he ventured back out to gather his mail. This time without interruption. Or, mostly without interruption. As he returned to his apartment he saw a note taped to the front of it. Part of him worried it was a notice of some sort, but as he approached he saw that it was hand written,
Dear 1E,
Through the process of elimination I am fairly certain it was you who helped me with the mailbox. Thank you for that. I’ve never had a mailbox with a key. I used to live in a normal house, that's not important. I’m new, I think I live above you, I didn’t want to do the thing where I knock on everyone's doors and hand out lemon bars, but I did want to say thanks, and if you do ever want lemon bars I am just up the stairs and at the end of the hall. Above your apartment.
Sincerely,
2E
Jerry stood in the hallway longer than he should have been. Looking at the note. Why would he leave a note? It was just a comment about a mailbox. It didn’t need thanks. He didn’t even really help. Just gave instruction. But it still threw him for a loop. Even by the time he finally got back inside he was still looking at it. Wondering why. Why would someone leave a note? A simple act of kindness that he was fairly unfamiliar with. He, for the most part, kept to himself. A way to keep out the bad. But it filtered out a decent amount of the good too. He never really noticed that part. Until a bit slipped in, in the form of a note, taped to his door, thanking him for helping with the mailbox.