The Man Who Stood on the Yard

There he was. A tall threatening man who’s face could not be seen under the shadow of his black hat. His coat was long, ragged and covered him all the way to his knees. He had the likeness of a mannequin with his mysterious nature. He stood on the yard of old Mrs. Kenny, an elderly woman who had been discarded from her family along time ago.

Mrs. Kenny had been living on that property for forty years and for the past five years she had been all alone, confined to her own boring thoughts. The only company she had was during the quick Christmas get togethers when her children would come home and spend the day with her. Ever since her husband died she had always wished to be with someone, anyone. But nothing like this. It was the second time the dark man had returned. Last night he had done the same as he was doing now, standing on the front yard of her two story house, silently, unmoving, and emotionless. He was the statue of death.

Mrs. Kenny looked out the window from behind her rotting curtains; she hid half of her face with the cloth, as if she was trying to camouflage herself. She considered calling the police but she could already imagine the conversation that would occur. What would she say? That there was some strange person standing on her front lawn? That she was being “bothered” by this person? No, the officers would probably think she was simply a demented old woman “seeing things”. She got that response a lot nowadays. Yet, she was still confident in her mental health. This person had to be real.

And so, for many hours the two beings stared at each other. Neither of them moving in the slightest. Eventually as the night wore on and the sun began to peek over the homes of the suburbs Mrs. Kenny grew tired. She could not lose sight of this strange person. Yet, seeking one tiny moment of rest, she closed her eyes, and when they reopened the man was gone. She stomped her feet in frustration. She could not lose her mind, not yet, not now. She always knew that the insanity would start settling in eventually, but not like this.

Please. She thought to herself. Please don’t make it like this. Don’t torture me. I’ve been a good person. For the rest of the day she enjoyed bitter tea and watched as the young children and adults came out to play in the streets. She could also imagine what they were saying to their children.

“Don’t go near Mrs. Kenny’s house” They would say “she doesn’t like visitors.”

But in fact she did. She craved human interaction. Why did people always assume you were some sort of witch sitting in your old, cursed home? And in a flash the day turned into night. Indeed, in her mind the happy bright days were getting shorter, and the dreadfully dark nights were getting longer. Sleep was something of the past.

For the next week the dark, brooding man stood. The yard was embedded with the same footprints left by the same man who always stood in the same spot. By midnight Mrs. Kenny got the courage to try to communicate with this product of her mind. She pushed open the walling windows of her home and leaned out the window. The wind felt good on her wrinkled face. The man still stood, his face seemed to be enveloped entirely from his hat from this angle.

“Excuse me sir?” Mrs. Kenny yelled across the yard “May I help you with something?”

No reaction, no acknowledgment of change at all from the standing man.

Without any reaction Mrs. Kenny’s doubts about her mind steadily increased. She closed the window and staggered back to the couch. She could not bear to look at the standing man again. And then, one hour later, almost as startling as a monster emerging out of a wall, the phone rang. And it rang with incredible power.

Mrs. Kenny had never heard such an inviting yet unfamiliar sound in her entire life. No one called her nowadays especially not on the rotary phone. She picked up the phone with a shaky hand and made one weak sound with her mouth.

“H…hello?”

The voice on the other side sounded like a young healthy man with a comforting voice, like an old movie star.

“Hello…can I speak to Mrs. Kenny?”

“S...speaking.”

“Mrs. Kenny could you please look outside?”

“I…I’d rather not.”

“Do you know what is out there Mrs.  Kenny?”

“You mean the…the man on my front lawn? I have no idea who he is.”

“Good, neither do we.”

“We? Who is this?!”

“Listen very carefully Mrs. Kenny. This man we have been patrolling for a very long time. We are on your side. We are trying to protect you.”

“I don’t understand. Is he dangerous?”

“Dangerous? Mrs. Kenny I’m not going to lie to you. He is very dangerous.”

“So you…you see him to?”

“Oh yes, I am afraid he is very real.”

Some relief flowed back into Mrs. Kenny. She had been given a second chance. From this moment forward she would try her best to become the best person she could be, the friendliest old person that anyone would ever meet. But she was not free just yet.

“Now listen Mrs. Kenny I need you to do one thing for me. Please just look outside one more time. Do you think you can do that for us?”

“Y…yes.”

Mrs. Kenny grabbed the phone and carried it with her to the window. The space between the window and the opposite wall seemed longer, more treacherous. She was very afraid of what she might see this time. Come on Mrs. Kenny! She thought to herself. How can you be a good person if you can’t even look out your own window? This small piece of self encouragement propelled her to the other side of the room. With one energy filled yank she pulled the curtains apart and looked down on her yard. The man was gone. The only thing left was his black hat that she had stared at night after night. At this moment she lost all her hope.

“The…the standing man is gone.”

“Gone…completely gone? Nothing else left?”

“Well…there’s…there is…”

“What?! What is on your front lawn?!”

“It’s just…it’s just a…”

“Mrs. Kenny we need to know!”

“It’s just his hat.”

The only thing on the other line was silence except for the faint mumbling of some people chatting in a panicked fashion and most likely calculating what to do next. Eventually, the young man’s voice returned. He breathed high and then let out a stead stream of air in a heavy sigh. 

“I…..I’m sorry Mrs. Kenny I truly am. We can’t help you anymore. May He have mercy on you and your soul. It's too late now.”