There was a new neighbour moved into 44 Grimace Street. The previous occupant, Miss Maudie, had sadly died. Miss Maudie was a lovely old lady, and she and Miss Marble at 46 Grimace Street had been great friends all the years Miss Maudie had lived there. She had died one rainy Saturday afternoon with Miss Marble beside her, holding her hand and wishing her a speedy transition to the next world. Miss Maudie had no relatives and left everything to the care of Miss Marble who after a few weeks put the house up for sale as she had more than enough to do. After all, a witch in this modern day and age is a very busy woman, and Miss Marble was more than happy to see Clorissa Newman purchase the house. It must be noted that Miss Marble did vet, to a degree, who it was moved in next to her.
Miss Clorissa became known as the lady with grey locks and was a small and quiet woman who for the first few days of her taking up occupancy at No 44 busied herself with unpacking and organising her house.
I decided to pay her a visit and welcome her to the street and neighbourhood. So with a cake, I had baked that morning I knocked on her door. Immediately I liked Miss Clorissa. She greeted me with the widest and broadest smile that filled me with warmth.
We sat around in her kitchen and enjoyed a cuppa and the cake. Miss Clorissa had previously lived the city, in a high rise and wanted to move to the quiet of the suburbs and on seeing No 44 up for sale, she felt the urge to put in an offer and was surprised to find her offer accepted.
I asked her if she had met Miss Marble as yet. She said he hadn’t, but she was aware of the noise that came from Miss Marble’s place, the aromas that floated in the air and the comings and goings of people disappearing down her side path. She had also met Sal, Miss Marble’s dog who had come sniffing around her place a few times, wagged his tail when he saw her and then trotted home.
I told her Miss Marble was a remarkable woman and being her neighbour it wouldn’t be long and she would make herself known. I said to her one of the tell-tale signs that Miss Marble liked you was the state of your garden. I said if she looked around she’d see that Miss Maudie had a beautiful garden full of healthy plants and the most luxurious blooms. Miss Marble I said had the most exciting garden fertiliser you could imagine.
But I said if she didn’t like you then your yard was a desert. Nothing would grow, not a flower would bloom, and you’d probably find Sal’s calling card on your front door step on one too many occasions. Now Sal, as Miss Clorissa had discovered, was a big dog and big dogs left BIG calling cards. I told her about the Casey’s who had lived at no 11 Grimace and were an awful bunch making loud noises, disrespecting their neighbours and generally behaving like a law unto themselves. Sal had paid them a few visits in one way or another, and they soon packed up and moved on.
Grimace Street was a quiet, orderly and a contented place.
Miss Clorissa did ask what it was Miss Marble did in her back shed, but I said that is best left for Miss Marble to tell you. We chattered about one thing and another until I took my leave and went home noticing Miss Marble on her veranda who nodded at me as I passed.
Miss Marble liked us being neighbourly as she knew we often broke the ice for her.