Whispers Beyond the Fence

**Whispers Beyond the Fence** “Life’s pretty simple, until it’s not,” that’s what Grandma Casey always said, before getting another round of biscuits from the kitchen. I always thought that made more sense than most of what adults said. Guess she was right after all. My head shot up from the book in my hands as the garden gate groaned on its hinges. Quinn, my ol’ trusty bulldog, wagged his little tail vigorously. There was nothing too exciting about another dull Tuesday, so what drew both our interests shouldn’t have been much. But that note, fluttering across our yard like a vagrant bird, had other plans. “Some privacy you got, Noah,” I muttered to myself, pocketing the note. Little did I know. Later, flipping the note over again, I found three words: *She still knows.* I didn’t guess snooping was part of the job description for a small-time dog-walker, but the neighborhood caught whispers before anyone did anything about it. That was how Agnes Turner’s secret affair in ‘15 rippled through morning coffees, starting as one and ending in wine – blunt, uncut truths. In my head, I looped through the possibilities – a failed sorority prank, nutty neighbor drama - everyday stuff really. But I had that feeling, like you do as a kid on Christmas Eve. “Still reading?” Mary, the nosy bachelor on Sam Lane, twanged over the fence, eyes twinkling like she knew something I didn’t. “What’s it really say?” “Confidential, Mary!” I retorted playfully, waving the note above my head. Quinn popped up with a snort beside me, almost as if chuckling at our banter. When Seymour, the gruff accountant down the road, slipped and whispered Agnes’ name at the next block party, suspicion turned into a full-blown community event. That’s how small town curiosities spiraled into legends. But this was different. When another note got lodged under the green-painted fence – the boundary between Agnes and Ms. Currie – my nerves reached new heights. *Who found it? Is she okay? It's been too long.* Clumsily, I clicked on my flashlight app, reading words shaking my own reflections. If you’d been in my shoes, you’d have done the same. And if you say otherwise, I’ll give you the number of the next Mayor’s assistant ‘cos you’d fit right in. I knew majority of the players involved, but this? This was an entirely new game. I become vigilant, my walks filled with more observation than I’d felt comfortable with. Every whisper, every shadow in another person’s yard watched with my widened gaze. Agnes was never what we’d call approachable these days, peering from her curtains like a hawk over prey. Ms. Currie being fond of existential interpretations of humanity’s fall from grace made even less sense. Yet, shadows lurk where light shines brightest. It happened on a sluggish Thursday where summer hits air like the humid perfume left to linger far too long. A tentative knock echoed, as Agnes met the gaze of her first confidant in years; myself. “Noah,” she croaked through trembling lips. A glimmer of uncertainty, an all too familiar bridge shattered within one silent chord. Her fear came with an irreversible truth. “They’re back.” The weight of secrets silenced the sun, as the shadow from beyond the fence transformed. Looking back now, perhaps ignorance would’ve been bliss. But like they say, “Once you know, you can’t unknow.” Life’s still simple, unpredictable and messy sure, but simple nonetheless. You’ll never believe what someone can conceal just over that dang painted division. But now I’ve learned, courage beats curiosity, in all its unpredictable forms. I shook my head, remembering those three tired words again—she still knew.