A Helpful Kind

He’s always thinking about other people, more particularly, what he can do for this family. Barbeque perhaps, bake some muffins, rake leaves, wash car, babysit, give lychee, mangoes, avocados.

Every morning he watches their house while he sips his coffee, catching snatches of their lives through the windows. How they are so busy, making breakfast, lunch for the kids, reading the paper, yoga, exercise bike.

So unlike his, the retired, relaxed life now. He peels a banana, counts the family members as they leave to do what they must do.

And when they are all gone, he steals next door, enters through any of the unlocked windows. It’s so easy to get inside. He walks around the house, looking into drawers, closets, examining items boxed for storage, photo albums.

They are so interesting, this husband, wife, three children. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but they do seem so needy somehow.

Definitely they could use a dog. What else, he wonders, can he do for them to help?

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