On a cold Christmas Eve early evening in 2010, I was sitting in my living room. Things were all around me, boxes. I was packing to move into my new townhouse. The scheduled move- in date was December 28, 2010. Earlier that day, two beautiful vibrantly colored hammocks had been delivered by UPS. I was doing a theme at the new house and wanted it to be "relaxation." So, hammocks were going up. As I stared at the long vertical boxes, that other voice in me lectured "You need to get up and go over to the new house and take the hammocks. At least that will be one thing out of the way. You know you have a zillion things to do." So the lazy Libra, even though she was exhausted, listened and drove the three minutes to my new home, hammocks in tow.
It was clear and dry outside. When I entered the new house, I was immediately astonished and happy. I was greeted by walls that were once white, lifeless and boring but had now been transformed by my hired painters so beautifully vivid. A miracle blue in the periwinkle family graced the living room, pumpkin creme showed off the dining area and upstairs, was raisin torte and Sherwood green in two bedrooms. The painters had done a wonderful job and I had to pat myself on the back. I had chosen wonderful colors by Benjamin Moore. Stimulating hues, just like my personality. Colorful, just like my characters. I was so excited and happy that I went out and knocked on a neighbor's door. I wanted them to see the place! A gentlemen came out, friendly, and listened to me babble on. He came in to check the place out and agreed it was wonderful and said he had white walls and color meant everything. We chatted a bit and he left. He said he was glad that such a nice and happy person would be his new neighbor. He had a dog, a Pit Bull and I told him I would be scared to death of it. He and his girlfriend had been living there about three years.
I then got into my car and headed back to the place I had rented for the past seven months. As I slowly drove down the road, it was now dusk and I noticed what I thought was a trash bag in the road. I thought "Who would leave this bag out here like this?" I stopped the car and got out to remove it. However, it was not trash, it was a body, fully clothed and laying in the street. This man was face up and unconscious. He was completely out of the parking lane. His ear plugs lay beside him. I started talking to him and there was no response. I cradled his head in my hand. I ran to my car and grabbed my phone and called police. I then raced back to him. The ambulance came. I wanted to go with him to the hospital and I explained to the police and medics that I needed to go home for my purse and I would accompany this stranger to the hospital. I did not want him to be alone. By the time I got home and made it back, his daughter was there. Edith was frantic and hugging me. She had gotten worried when her Dad did not return from his evening walk. We were both frenzied and hurriedly began trying to discuss the dynamics of the problematic situation as it was compounded by her stepmother, Arnold's wife, Marlene, who was left alone at their home.