Envy

ONE

Dave stopped raking and watched as the long-legged blond stepped out of the passenger side of the silver Lexus and straightened her silky skirt around her curvaceous hips. Not wishing to be noticed, he continued raking his lawn, one eye on the tines, the other on the bombshell, her hips swaying, as she nonchalantly walked to her front door.

That was Mrs. Magnusson. She and her husband Doctor Piers moved into the spacious home next door almost a year ago and since the first day, David began watching his neighbors with a mixture of envy and
admiration.

The house they moved into was new. Well designed and landscaped, this six bedroom, two and a half bath Tudor made David's modest Ranch-style home look like a chicken shed.

Mrs. Magnusson fumbled for the keys to her front door, dropping them. Dave admired her shapely form as she knelt down to pick them up.

"What a woman!" he thought, imagining what he would do with her if she were his. She picked up her keys and noticed Dave looking her way. She rose to her feet and waved, "Oh, hello Dave I didn't see you there. Sometimes I'm in my own world you know."

"Hi Edith," he managed, the blood rushing to his face, "Nice weather isn't it!" That was about all he ever said to the Magnusson's. They talked about the weather, the high price of gas and a few other niceties. After-all what did they have in common? They were rich, affluent and intelligent, while Dave was, well, just Dave.

Yet the Magnusson's never made Dave feel small. Friendly, and unaffected, they smiled openly when ever they'd meet. Both Piers and Edith had a manner about them that made Dave feel at ease, as if they sincerely liked him...it made him uncomfortable. In fact, they did like Dave. they found him shy and unassuming, and the mother in Edith, wanted to make the "Sad looking man happy." Whenever the Magnussons had get-togethers, she'd tell her husband, "I'm inviting

Dave, he looks so lonely. Her husband would smile, proud of his wife's benevolence. And she always did remember to invite Dave, who of course politely declined.

Mrs. Magnusson searched for and found the right key and opened the front door. Dave watched as she walked inside, wishing he were there to greet her. He suddenly lost his desire to tend the lawn. He tossed the rake aside and went into his pitiful little house and stood before the bathroom mirror.

Most of us have stood before a mirror, displeased at what we see. Dissatisfaction with who we are is as invasive as that ill feeling for what we don't have, and Dave had that lethal double dose as he looked at his loathsome reflection.

"Why wasn't I born a Doctor? Why did I have only enough brains to be an Accounts Receivable clerk? Dammit, life is unfair...the rich man gets everything. the money, the house, the cars and...the woman. Why
can't I be Doctor Piers?”

He stared hard into the mirror, hating what he saw. His mouth turned downward and his eyes became slits. He stood there quivering with anger and with what almost seemed involuntary, he rose his fist and slammed it into his reflection.

The mirror exploded, and Dave, shocked, seemed instantly appeased. Glass shards flew onto the floor creating hundreds of distorted images of Dave as be bent down to pick them up.

That Saturday morning Dave was again on his front lawn, trying again to rake the leaves that never seemed get raked. He looked across the street to the Magnusson's lawn, not a leaf in sight. He doubted the Magnusson's had hired anyone to rake their lawn...it must be that the wind blew all their leaves onto his lawn...that figured!

He raked furiously, thinking about the injustice of the world, that he was out here raking his neighbors leaves, while for all he knew, Piers was inside making love to his beautiful wife. That hard look again came to his face and he swung the rake against a small apple tree, breaking the handle in half.

Later that day he went to the local hardware store and bought another rake, one with a guaranteed, "No Break" handle, and again attempted his lawn. After a few minutes of relative success he looked up to see
Piers approaching him with a friendly smile on his face. The doctor was a big man. Several inches taller and wider than Dave. He had dark skin and an athletic build and to Dave’s chagrin, rugged good looks.

"Hey Dave, nice day for raking isn't it. Edith thought it was about time I took out the trash."

Dave looked down to see a small white bag in the Doctor’s left hand. He thought of the trash in his own kitchen, over flowing from neglect, and his jaws tightened.

"Dave, I'm going to a card show today, want to come along? I'm looking for Carl Yastrzemski's rookie card."

Dave loved Carl Yastrzemski and had always wanted to start a collection of Yastrzemski memorabilia, but had never had the money.

"Thanks Piers, but no, I just have too much work to do around the house." Dave thought a moment and then continued,

"But you know Piers, I have a Carl Yastrzemski rookie card, you can have it if you want. I'm not much of a collector, it was my dad's card. He worshiped Yaz."

"Me too!" Piers replied excitedly. "I was in the stands with my own dad when Ted his that home run in his last at bat. It was just about the greatest moment of my life!"

Hearing such a bold statement Dave thought, "He's a doctor, he's rich, has a fabulous home and gets to sleep with the most beautiful woman I've ever met, yet seeing some guy hit a home run is the greatest moment of his life? He doesn't deserve to..."

He couldn't finish that sentence; some things were so depraved they couldn't even be thought.

"I couldn't possibly take your Carl Yastrzemski card for nothing. Let me pay you for it. It's worth a lot of money, how about one hundred dollars?"

Dave winced at the mention of money but then spoke, "I don't want your money Doctor Piers, you've been good neighbors and I'm glad to give it to you. Come on inside and I'll see if I can find it."

The two men entered the house and Dave walked to the refrigerator and looked in, "Want a Moxie Doctor Piers?" he asked, holding out a glass bottle to his neighbor.

"Oh God no, how can you drink that stuff. It's like car oil! Thanks for offering though, I'm fine."

Dave winced again. He loved Moxie and his refrigerator was never without the medicine-like tasting soft drink. "Suit yourself Doc, but it's good for what ails ya." Dave laughed, popping off the bottle cap and taking a sip.

Piers looked around the small living room, at the hunting photos and stuffed animals placed around the room. “Into hunting Dave? You shoot these animals you have here?”

“My dad was the hunter. I’d go with him once in a while, we’d sometimes skin raccoons and such for their pelts. There was good money in it and we were quite poor growing up. My dad always said, if you wore their pelts you gained their strength, and became powerful like them. But I don’t know about that, my dad had a lot of odd sayings. He had a few of the animals stuffed by a Taxidermist. I keep them in memory of him. “

Dave looked uncomfortable and changed the subject, “Now lets go find that Yastrzemski card Doc. I know I have it somewhere."

"While you look, would you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"No problem Doc, I'll just look in a few places here.

Dave watched Piers walk into the bathroom. His eyes closed slightly and his lips tightened. He pulled open a closet door and looked in, thinking more about his neighbors good life, than where the baseball card might be.

In a minute, Piers returned from the bathroom and asked, "Dave, you don't have a mirror in your bathroom? You have the perfect space for too."

"Mirror?" Dave asked absently, "Oh yes, it got broken the other day. I tried to hang it and it slipped. Just haven't gotten a new one yet. He tipped the bottle of soda into his mouth and emptied it, savoring the taste."

"Edith and I have one in our garage. It's in good shape and if you want it, we'd be glad to give it to you. It would look great over your sink."

Dave's jaws tightened at the offer and he put the bottle of Moxie down so that he could place his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, "Thanks Doc, but I'm not sure what I want to put there. Can I get
back to you on that?"

"Sure Dave, no problem. Find the card yet?"

"No not yet, but I will."

"No hurry. You know Dave, I envy you."

Dave looked at his neighbor startled. "You envy me? Don't make me laugh Doc. You've got it all. You're a
respected doctor, drive a nice car, have the best home on the block and Mrs. Magnusson, well, she's not exactly hard on the eyes."

The doctor smiled. "Yeah, I guess like I have it made. But you know, sometimes I just wish I had a simple life."

The word "simple" stuck in Dave's brain as the doctor continued, "I like my profession, but there's a lot of headaches to it, and the car and house come with large, monthly bills, and Edith, well, I love her to death but she's rather high maintenance if you know what I mean. Sometimes I just wish I were you."

Dave's hands clenched within his pockets. "Sure he wants to be me, the lying son of a bitch!"

"So you wanna trade Doc?" he asked, laughing uneasily.

"Well maybe not right now Dave, lets wait until my Practice fails and Edith gets a few wrinkles."

The two men shared a laugh, but Dave's fists remained clenched.

"Doc, that card, I think it's in that desk behind you, would you mind looking for me?" Dave asked, pointing behind his neighbor.

The doctor turned and opened the roll top and started to dig through the contents. "All your stuff is very organized Dave, I admire that, i wish I had your bookkeeping skills."

At that comment Dave's face hardened. His mouth turned downward and his eyes became slits, his body quivered as he took his left hand out of his pants pocket and reached for the empty bottle of Moxie.

"You know Dave, I could use a man like you at my practice. Someone who could keep track of details, and well, someone I can trust."

Dave gripped the bottle tighter at the offer. His hand shook and before he could control it, he rose the bottle above his head and brought it crashing down upon the Doctor's head with a force no ordinary man could have survived.

TWO

Edith was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She sang an advertising jingle as she prepared the Caesar salad which was her husband‘s favorite. He'd been gone for a long time now and she was beginning to wonder what kept him. She’d just checked the roast in the oven when she heard the front door open and she rushed out to greet her man. She saw him in the doorway, suit crumpled, and blood trickling down his ashen face.

"Oh my God, Piers, what happened, are you ok?"

Yet something kept her from rushing to her husband. The suit, it seemed too big, and his slacks seemed baggy. She slowly walked toward him, worried, and not understanding. She noticed something flat and rectangular in his hand

"Piers, speak to me. What happened to you, and what is that in your hand?"

His face looked pale, his eyes seemed to sink inside his head and his lips...what was it about his lips? She came closer and he stood still while she rose her hands to his face. "Speak to me Piers!" shouted demanded in a frightened voice.

His lips moved and his face slowly began to slide, like a snowflake down a plate glass window, streaks of blood trailing behind. Edith screamed and fainted, slumping to the floor.

"Honey I'm home," the lips spoke impassively as Piers' facial skin fell from Dave's stoic visage...soon followed by the Carl Yastrzemski rookie card.