Ribbons of brilliant light washed over the sides of the old white building, painting on its dulling cover a ballet of dancing shadow that burst with color and stretched across its face before finally settling upon the pitched green roof, but with the growing of the Spring dawn, so too came the whispers from the residents of Willow Shades.

Herbert Cane was not a man so easily enticed by such scandalous rumor as many people of his age so often succumb to, so he sat far away from them all, where he always did, resting quite comfortably beneath the shady umbrella of the willow tree that was nearest to the pond. He had always found the restful trickle from the nearby fishpond comforting, often clearing his head. The grade of the landscape here was much steeper allowing one from this vantage point to view the grounds and the old building in its entirety.

The shabby white doors with their milky paint looked inviting and the buildings green slate roof nestled by willow trees looked surreal with billowy tops giving them the appearance of puffs of bottle green smoke that contrasted sharply against the powdery sky. The small town of Willow lay to the West, far below and distant from Herbert's high view, with level fields of grass, two slim roads, a few shops, a school and cutting through the center, a raggedy belt of red brick cottages made to look slightly orange in the morning light.

Herbert picked lazily at the wispy willow branches that dangled near his chest. His fleeting moment of peace was ruined by the collective murmur that drew nearer. Herbert squinted as parched elderly voices peppered with insult and innuendo closed in on him. The group shuffled cautiously up the mossy cobblestone path that was cleaved into the landscape. Mr. Anthony spoke first as the shambling clutter of seniors collected under the tree, causing Herbert to shift discordantly in the dewy grass and pose his face towards the direction of the brook.

"Mrs. Goldman knows of this new tenant," Mr. Anthony announced loudly with a crackling voice that sliced through the tranquility of such a blessed morning. The man's face was long and terribly gaunt, with a pointed nose that crooked slightly to the left. He possessed skin shrunk so tightly that it clung to the angular bones in his face as if his skull was wrapped in wax paper. Herbert Cane shifted himself to the direction of the pond and cast his gaze firmly out over the town to illustrate to the group his genuine disinterest in such petty matters.

"Well, you can't bloody well sit there and ignore what's happening to this place can you?" Mr. Anthony's eyes slanted with antagonism. "She's a sinner Cane, and a sinner of the worst sort. I shouldn't have to remind you." Mrs. Goldman lurched forward poking her bony finger into the side of Herbert's face, taunting a response.

"This is a home for God fearing people Mr. Cane, and like it or not, here you are. If we let that sort of woman come to reside here, our peace will be broken," she crowed. A seething Mr. Fisk spat at the ground near Herbert's feet, yet Herbert didn't give them the satisfaction of a reply. He continued to look out stubbornly towards the town.

"Looks like he has nothing to say to his own neighbors. He's just as bad as she is," said Mr. Anthony through clenched yellow teeth. The others let out their appropriate snorts and pernickety remarks before finally leaving Herbert to himself by the edge of the pond. They slunk away muttering, slowly back down the path towards the building.

Herbert spent the entire day away from the building, away from the neighbors. Dusk rested softly over the grounds of Willow Shades turning the clear water of the pond into a reflective mirror that rippled the exact color of the sensual lapis blue sky overhead, yet despite such a grand sight, Herbert was troubled.

Their collective chatter, though muffled from their perspective places of residence, was still heard as he slowly made his way back to the building. Finely combed branches of willow trees swept lightly over the grass with a languid breeze that was scented with the unbearably sweet aroma of honeysuckle. Golden flickers of lightning bugs nervously illuminated the grounds as Herbert made his way down the slick cobblestones towards the main building. No matter what type of woman she was, how sorry he felt for the new tenant that she would be subjected to such a brusque reception.

Herbert entered the foyer of the building, brushing off the awful stares that regarded him so suspiciously and made his way swiftly past the grumbling crowd that leered with contempt. The building felt colder than it normally would on a Spring night such as this. He walked soundlessly through the corridors with hurried steps towards his place and was about to round the corner when he was startled by an obviously angered Mr. Anthony who blocked his path. The man was firmly planted in the middle of the corridor, arms tensely crossed. Mrs. Goldman lurked behind him in the shadows slightly to his left. A weary glow emitted through the stained glass windows bathing the two tenants with an eerie blue glow.

"I'm telling you Cane, no, actually, I'm warning you, you had better not utter a word to her when she arrives here. We don't want her kind hanging around Willow Shades. This is an upscale community I'll have you know, and we don't need you telling her that it's ok to stay. We will drive her out, the both of you if we must," Mrs. Goldman smiled wickedly at Anthony's assault causing a response to ignite in Herbert. He stepped forward and loomed over Mr. Anthony, peering down at the troublesome man with contempt.

"And where would she go?" The heavy furrows that etched Mr. Anthony's face grew deeper giving the downward creases the appearance of having been carved into wood. At first the man seemed startled by Herbert's firm stance, but too many silent moments passed, giving the man enough time to regain his gumption.

"She can go to hell!" Anthony finally blurted. Mrs. Goldman let out a dry scoff as the two of them pushed past Herbert to join the rest of the bleating tenants who had been collecting in the foyer.

All night long they complained and made plans, only to complain again and make new plans. They would try their best to evict this new woman, but why? She was no more a sinner than any of them. This place should welcome everyone, not just a few selected individuals. Herbert lay restlessly, deep into the night, trying not to listen to the awful whispers that echoed through the walls. He wouldn't judge this woman no matter what she had done; it was simply not within his right. By morning, his thoughts had wearily drifted to his own son, to his family.

Of course they had thought that Willow Shades was a nice enough place to put him. It was clean with grounds that were impeccably kept, with gardens that housed a huge variety of roses and flowers and the views of the town were spectacular, especially on Sunday mornings when Herbert, from his favorite spot, could watch the crowds of people milling below. The trees were soothing, and the pond was full of colorful fish that Herbert could watch for hours. How could they have ever possibly known about the neighbors? It was something that couldn't be helped. By the break of dawn the whispering voices had begun to trail off as thinly as a breeze and Herbert could finally find some peace.

The bells rang loudly, a mechanical rendition of Ave Maria, quickly startling Herbert out of the building and onto the grounds. Sunday was his favorite day, it was visitation day, and although Herbert hadn't seen his son or his wife in what had seemed like forever, he had always had the hope, no matter how diminished it had grown throughout the years, that they would eventually come. Swarms of people decorated the lawn, some were hugging and some weeping while others wore weary faces. Some people stood around talking casually, while others wandered off to search for their family members. Almost every week the same people would visit but some weeks, especially in the late spring and early fall, new faces would join Willow Shades.

Herbert began his usual trek to the pond, flashing a greeting smile to all of the visitors, young and old alike. As he made his way towards the path, he saw the neighbors. Mr. Anthony, Mrs. Goldman, Mr. Fisk and the group of elite tenants were standing on the lawn forming a semi circle near the front entrance of the old building. Their voices had grown into a ruckus, once again spoiling Herbert's tranquil mood. Herbert tried to slip past without being noticed, but his curiosity over the spectacle had won.

He spotted a somewhat familiar face trapped in the center of the crowd that commanded his immediate attention. It was a woman, about sixty or so, with a downy white crown of hair that framed her face with a curtain of flirtatious curls. She was tall and waif, standing elegantly poised within the ring of shouting tenants, the black sequined dress she wore threw off a magnificent flame of sparkle in the early light. Herbert knew this woman was his visitor, and the new tenant that the group had been speaking of so poorly. Finally she had come.

Not far behind her stood Adam, looking so old now, so beaten. Next to Adam, three little girls who Herbert only recognized by some familiar trace of features, clung to the skirt of Adam's wife Andrea, their tiny faces peeking out with shy curiosity from behind her slender legs. The angry mob crowded the woman in the center, cutting out Herbert's son, his daughter in law and granddaughters in the process knowing full well that they were unable to help her. The group had become a tight shouting cluster around the woman. Herbert sprinted across the lawn to spare this woman of the insults.

"You are not welcome here!" shouted Mrs. Goldman as she hung onto her husband's frail arm for support. The crowd of tenants hissed and cursed, some spat and others mocked the new woman wickedly. A tenant with a thin clump of tangled red hair and a fleshy mouth devoid of teeth spewed scripture like venom at the woman. Her slaking gums smacked together wetly with every syllable. A stocky man with a bulbous face, whom Herbert only knew as Chief, taunted the poor woman with crude remarks, ultimately paving the way for Mr. Anthony to step towards the woman in black, roughly grab her wrists and hold them up for every one of the tenants to see.

The bruised jagged slits showed perfectly in the morning light with thick pieces of crude black stitching trailing from the unhealed wounds. They flapped violently, causing the tenants to gape at the woman as if she were some ferocious rag doll. Yet, however taunted the woman stood unaffected, allowing the angry crowd to do as they pleased. Their ugly voices rose to a fevered chant.

Sinner! Sinner!

Herbert raced to her aid unnoticed through the collection of weeping visitors that stood outside of the circle, away from his wife.

"They can't make you go darling!" Herbert shouted as he threw his arms tightly around the woman as if to shelter her from the tenant's harsh verbal attack. He pressed her close to erase her pain. Apology danced vibrantly within her pale blue eyes. Herbert caressed a face that had seemed so unchanged and remained still, so perfectly beautiful. Her eyes puddled with worry as she glanced over her shoulder to look at her grandchildren and at her son as they stood solemnly around her shining bronze casket. The tenants continued to jeer at Herbert and his wife, focusing cruelly on the woman's poorly sewn wrists. Moments passed before the box was finally lifted and carried in through the white washed doors of the mausoleum, much to the chagrin of the tenants.

"Don't apologize. I know how lonely you were for me…I ached too," Victoria pressed her face deep into her husband's chest. "Stay here with me Victoria, they can complain all they like, but they can never really force you to go." With the comfort of his words, the sorrow drained from Victoria's gentle face.

"Just you never mind the neighbors," Herbert said with a smile as he took her hand. The pair walked silently up the cobblestone path, leaving the grumbling knot of tenants behind in the cemetery. They walked through the wispy branches of the willow trees towards the pond.

"Here," he whispered to her tenderly. "Let me show you my favorite place."

The End

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