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There were perks to living in upstate New York. For one, most of the neighbors were quiet and kept to themselves. Schlatt believed he deserved some peace and quiet. Having had a brief stint as an entrepreneur turned politician, his most adventurous days were behind him.
He didn’t see his neighbors much, which was fine by him; fewer people he had to pretend to like.
He was getting his mail when he noticed a fresh fit sale sign on the property across from his own. It would appear he would be getting new neighbors soon. It seemed the old Mr. Craft had finally kicked the bucket. Schlatt had met the man a few times, his sons too. He couldn’t say he thought very highly of any of them.
Turning away from the painted brick house, he closed the door as he entered his own.
———
The house was not on the market for long. He had briefly caught a glimpse of a young couple touring the house. The pair had a sensible air about them. He didn’t think these neighbors would be too bad.
———
He had been on his porch, peacefully listening to his podcast, when a van rolled up. It was obviously a moving van. He wasn’t old enough to need glasses to see the writing on the side. His attention had already wandered elsewhere when a second vehicle rolled up. Out stepped the same couple from before and a snot-nosed brat.
The little girl couldn’t have been more than seven? Eight at the most. He was never good with children and their ages, one of the many reasons he never had any of his own.
The brat quickly shuffled in behind her parents as she held onto some plush that resembled a chicken.
Schlatt easily decided to resend all hopeful feelings of a continued peaceful existence.
———
Schlatt did not like his new neighbors. More specifically, he did not care for the feral demon they somehow spawned. Who the hell lets a child like that run rampant?!
More than the house, he had come home to immediately be bombarded by the demon wearing a chicken hat, if you could even call it that. The thing was ugly as sin. The hat, not the child. Although the child was also annoyingly persistent. He wondered if her parents knew how much time their child spent disrupting the peace.
———
Schlatt concluded two things the next day. 1) the child’s parents did not, in fact, know about their child's escapades, and 2) the demon’s name was Katie B.
He had just finished dinner when he heard a knock at the door. At first, he almost ignored it; certainly would have been the smarter move. But hindsight is 20/20, and he did open the door.
The sight that greeted him was the same chicken-hat-wearing demon child and her useless parents.
“Hello,” the wife greeted, putting on a smile, “we just moved in across the street, and my husband and I thought we would come by and introduce ourselves.” A hand tugged on the woman's long skirt. She turned her head to look at the child before turning back to face him with a chuckle. “Of course, our daughter Katie B wanted to come along.”
Taking this as permission to introduce herself, she stuck out her hand, “Howdy, neighbor!” The smile of the demon was far too wide for his liking. “Its nice to meet you!”
“Thank you for the introduction,” Schlatt said begrudgingly as he turned to shut the door.
Katie B was apparently not done talking just yet: “I’m going to be the best KFC manager there is,” she proudly declared.
Did this child just have a thing for chicken?
The father appeared slightly mortified by his daughter's declaration. “It’s just a phase,” he assured, “at least we hope.”
It was not just a phase.
———
The next time he saw Katie B was a few weeks later. He had been purposely avoiding all attempts made by her to stage a run-in. Her parents seriously needed to set her up with a play date or something; this was getting ridiculous.
She was camped out on the corner of her yard, with a yellow lemonade sign that had lemon crossed out and instead had chicken written.
What was it with this child and chicken?
He had made a valiant effort to avoid her gaze as he walked by, but she stopped him all the same.
“Could I interest you in the world’s best fried chicken? Customer satisfaction guaranteed!”
Schlatt stopped and turned to face her makeshift stand. Lo and behold, there was a platter of chicken sitting on a tray, with a noticeably empty tip jar. It appeared none of his neighbors were feeling like risking salmonella for this strange child, and neither was he.
“I think I’ll pass. Besides, I can see the KFC box near your feet.”
Katie B sprang to her feet and practically yelled at him. “I promised you the best fried chicken, and KFC is the best,” she crossed her arms. “I’ll cut you a deal, one piece for $20.”
He scoffed, “No way. That's practically robbery.”
“You want the best chicken? You pay my prices.”
“I can go to a real KFC and buy a fresh bucket of chicken for like $20. This is extortion.” He doubted the child even knew what that last word meant.
“You could,” Katie B shrugged, “but that would require you to go a long way, and you seem old. I’m not sure you could make it that far.”
“ Old?!” He wasn’t old. “ I bet you don’t even know what old people look like. You’re what? Eight?”
“I’m twelve and you're an old man!”
“What do you know?! You’re a brat, that's what you are!”
“Fine! You don't deserve my chicken!” Tears were swelling up, and he was not about to deal with a crying child.
Safe to say, Schlatt left $20 poorer and with chicken in his hand. He waited until he was out of her view before throwing the chicken away. He could swear he saw her smirk after he bought the chicken.
He must be getting soft.
———
Katie B didn’t bother him for a long time after that. He knew he didn’t actually upset the kid; she was too dense to get the hint and actually leave him alone. It was only a matter of time before she came back.
———
It was nearly a month before he next saw the familiar ugly chicken hat bobbing its way to his front porch. Letting out a sigh, he didn’t even try to avoid the inevitable.
“Mr. Jschlatt! Mr. Jschlatt! You have gotta see what I built!”
He groaned, “Don’t you know anyone your own age to show whatever you built to?”
“Nope!” She was rather chipper despite her response. “The other kids aren’t as cool as you.”
Lucky him.
Relenting, he followed her to the fence that bordered her backyard. Katie B had to stand on her tiptoes to peek over the white picket fence, but Schlatt had no problem himself. Nonetheless, Katie B was practically vibrating.”
“What do you think? Shes a beauty, isn’t she?’
The ‘beauty’ in question was a hut-like structure that was hap-hazardly assembled. Nails and screws were sticking out everywhere.
“This thing has to be breaking a million code violations,” he told her, before adding, “and its an eyesore.”
Katie B just scrunched her nose, “You just don’t know what true beauty is.”
He let out a laugh, “Trust me, kid, this thing is going to fall apart the first bit of rain or wind we get. Besides, how did you even build this?”
She puffed up her chest in pride. “I found some plants in the garage, and my dad doesn’t lock up his tools. It was honestly pretty easy.”
God, this kid was going to be the death of him.
“You need to tear this thing down.”
“No!” She shrieked, “I worked hard on it! You can’t make me!”
No… he couldn’t, but he could try.
“Kid, you have until sunset. This death trap comes down.” There were still a few hours left before evening. Surely she could disassemble her ‘masterpiece’ by then.
———
It was still standing when her parents came home that night. Based on their reactions when they drove past it, they also were not pleased by their children’s creation.
Oh well, that certainly wasn’t his problem. He didn’t pity her parents. Not at all.
———
He had noticed that one of his steps on his porch was getting loose. It wasn’t the most uncommon thing. Even steps faced typical wear and tear.
His tool kit was where he always kept it; he was a creature of habit. Grabbing a few screws, he went to work, and before long, the board was as good as new.
Katie B must have seen him fixing up his porch, because of course she did. It seemed like the world wouldn’t give him a moment of peace. What could he have done to warrant such a peskily optimistic child to decide to follow him and become like a little shadow?
“You know how to use tools?” She questioned him.
“Yes.”
“And you’re good at it?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not doing anything else, cause from here it looks like you are finished up.”
He put the tools down. “What is this about?”
“I want you to help me build a fort,” she boldly declared.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!”
“Please?”
“No!!!”
“Please?”
“I said no! God, do you ever shut up?”
“Please?”
Why did the world hate him so much?
“If I help you, do you promise to leave me alone?” He was so very done with this child and her antics.
She contemplated for a moment, rubbing her chin like a sage.
“Deal!”
———
Schlatt got to work lining up the planks in a somewhat orderly fashion; it didn’t have to be perfect as long as it was good enough. Katie B was surprisingly helpful. For a child who liked to cause trouble, she could listen to directions well enough when it suited her.
The fort came along nicely. It was finished before the sun had finished its descent.
In his personal opinion, the for was still ugly, but not as ugly as before.
Katie B ran around to inspect the structure. “It’s perfect! I’m going to call it the cluck house.”
“Please don’t.”
All Schlatt got was a shit-eating grin in response.
———
The next day, Schlatt opened his door to a box with a note. The note was a messy thank-you, written in marker and covered in stickers. He found himself laughing despite himself at the childish appreciation. Opening the box was a tin full of Rainbow Chips Deluxe cookies. Maybe his neighbor wasn’t so bad after all.