Hermit Neighbor: The Man, The Mystery

As we go through the things we got for Christmas, and my son plays with his new toys, and I reflect on all the loving family members we saw, I can’t help but think of Hermit Neighbor. It didn’t look like Hermit Neighbor saw anyone for Christmas. Maybe he likes it that way. Did he even know it was Christmas? Would he have freaked out if I’d gone across the street and wished him a merry one?

Because I am an extrovert, I find Hermit Neighbor fascinating. He is a mystery wrapped in an enigma shrouded with more mystery. I make up stories about what I think his life is about and what’s happened to him. He’s not the typical hermit. He’s not old. He’s mid-40s at the most. He lives alone in a house that was designed for a family. I have lived across the street from him for 5 years and have never once spoken to him. He talked to my husband once or twice, though. My husband said he seemed normal, but he’s a man and of course could not recall what they talked about, despite my desperate pleas for details. On the very rare occasions Hermit Neighbor is outside, I try to make eye contact with him and smile, but he avoids my benevolence. He does not pay any attention to our adorable son when he plays outside, while other neighbors stop and say how cute he is and talk to us. 

So I have conjectured about Hermit Neighbor based on just a few snippets of information. I am generally not a nosy neighbor. I pay very little attention to the neighbors with normal comings and goings. But I was a newspaper reporter for a decent amount of time, so I like to investigate things that seem odd or interesting and get the facts. And Hermit Neighbor is so damn odd and interesting. Here are the facts I have gathered pertaining to him, and what those facts have led me to conjecture:

1. I have twice called the police to check whether he was alive. 

And his former next-door neighbors also called the cops for a welfare check on another occasion. The first time I dialed the ole’ 911 for Hermit Neighbor was when we’d had a string of 100-degree days a few summers back. While all of the rest of the neighbors had their windows snuggly closed and the air-conditioning on blast, his windows were wide open. And his garage door was open for four days straight. That was very unusual. Because of what he keeps inside his garage (see Fact No. 2). I imagined him lying on the floor dying of heat stroke and was very worried. The officers reported to me that after several attempts trying to get Hermit Neighbor to come to the front door, they walked around the house and knocked on the door to the walk-out basement. He met them there. He thanked them for checking on him and said he was glad to know his garage door was open. The officers told me the upstairs living areas they could see through the window were completely devoid of furniture and covered in dust. This all led me to my first conjecture, below.

The second time I called for police to check Hermit Neighbor’s welfare, we had two snow storms a week apart that each dropped one foot of snow. That’s a lot for my little portion of the Midwest. For two weeks, there were no tire tracks or foot prints leaving his house. His was the only driveway in the neighborhood that wasn’t shoveled. I figured he’d surely need bread or something. The officers again reported back to me that he was OK, and he thought it was nice someone was concerned about him. I care, Hermit Neighbor! I care! Talk to me! I’m nice! Tell me all about yourself and the strange ways you live! Are you lonely? You must be. I will help you find friends! And Jesus, I will help you find Jesus, too! He will always be your friend!

Conjecture: He lives in his basement. Lights are never on upstairs. And he needs friends, and probably Jesus. He may not think so, but I do, and surely I know what is best for Hermit Neighbor.

2. He has a Porsche. It has not left his garage in at least five years.

Inside Hermit Neighbor’s 2-car garage is a Porsche that is surrounded by boxes, as though to obscure it. I have never once seen him drive it or even take it out of the garage. I got a really good look at it that one time he left his garage open for four days. One time, a guy parked in front of his house, and Hermit Neighbor talked to that guy with the garage open, and they both frequently gestured toward the Porsche. Maybe the other guy wanted to buy it. The fact that Hermit Neighbor was talking to somebody outside was so notable that whoever saw him first - my husband or me, I can’t remember - immediately called the other one to the window to observe this rarity. The Porsche has remained, though. Day-to-day, Hermit Neighbor drives an early 2000s Civic. Despite having a two-car garage and a house that apparently has ample storage room due to the lack of furnishings, Hermit Neighbor parks the Civic outside, where he must chip it out of ice and snow this time of year. Something he wouldn’t have to do if he put it in the garage…

3. Hermit Neighbor has some kind of job where he wears khakis but doesn’t have to go in very often.

I have observed Hermit Neighbor occasionally leaving and arriving home from work at the same time I do. But he doesn’t do it every day. When he does, he tends to wear typical white-collar clothes. Sometimes he doesn’t leave the house all week. 

Conjecture: He gets to work from home. Probably something ITish where he doesn’t have to talk to people. He makes enough money to pay a decent mortgage by himself.

4. He gets many packages.

Conjecture: I guess you can be more hermity if you don’t have to go to the store.

5. Like hummingbirds, Hermit Neighbor comes out most in the warm months.

Only because he has to mow his lawn. When it’s gotten past the point anyone in the neighborhood can stand it - usually every two to three weeks - Hermit Neighbor comes out and mows his lawn down to the dirt. He has absolutely zero landscaping, so he doesn’t need to tend to that. It is during these times that I most try to get him to make eye contact with me. He may call it creepy. I call it friendly.

6. He was the source of the most excitement in our neighborhood in years. 

I live where I do in my fine city because it is close to everything important but very, very quiet. A couple of summers ago, around 10 o'clock. at night, flashing lights appeared outside our house. Several police cars were there, then a fire truck, then an ambulance. Husband and I went outside to see what the deal was. We could hear screams. Then we saw several first responders heaving Hermit Neighbor (he is on the chubby side) up from the ravine behind the house next-door to him. He kept yelling at the people trying to help him that his leg hurt and was kind of being a jerk to them. They cut his pant leg open in the neighbor’s front yard then loaded him into the ambulance. 

I talked to his next-door neighbor the next day, (who is catty-wampus from us across the street [is “catty-wampus” only a Midwestern term?]) who gave me the scoop. He said he and his family were watching TV the night before and getting ready to go to bed when his daughter swore she heard moaning outside. They found Hermit Neighbor lying injured in the ravine and called 911. What was Hermit Neighbor doing prowling around the ravine behind his neighbor’s house at 10 p.m., you may ask? Your guess is as good as mine. Normal neighbor thought maybe Hermit Neighbor tumbled down there by tripping outside on the patio where his basement door is. 

Conjecture: Hermit Neighbor might do a little night-time prowling from time to time.

Anyway, in the weeks that followed, Hermit Neighbor was spotted on crutches, and someone was at his house a few times a week. I hoped it was a loved one come to care for him during his convalescence, but I think it was more of a hired home health nurse, because I never saw that guy or his vehicle again. 

7. For one amazingly glorious month, Hermit Neighbor had a girlfriend. 

It was absolutely magical. It was last spring, and Hermit Neighbor was a new man. For the first time ever, another car regularly joined his Civic in his driveway, even overnight sometimes. He was outside all the time. He and the girlfriend would go on walks around the neighborhood, holding hands and smiling. They’d stop to kiss. She was much more attractive than him. I was so freaking happy for him I could barely stop myself from yelling to him, “I’m so happy for you!” He even waved at me once when they returned from a walk and I was working in the yard. That was previously unheard of. The girlfriend had a dog, and they’d play with it in his front yard. I started seeing lights on in the upstairs-levels of his house. Hermit Neighbor had turned over a new leaf! But as soon as she came into our lives, Hermit Neighbor’s girlfriend was gone. And he returned to his reclusiveness, this time I imagine with heartbreak on top of it.

Conjecture: He met her on the Internet. She figured out he was weird.

My overall conjecture about Hermit Neighbor is that he used to be married and got divorced a long time ago (no kids), keeping the house. I have no solid evidence of that, but it seems to fit. I also imagine, or at least hope, that he has a vibrant social life online, like in one of those weird games where you can make yourself into a hot avatar or something and flirt with other hot avatars who are really obese housewives somewhere in Texas. I so want Hermit Neighbor to be happy. I don’t want him to be sad and lonely. I want him to let me smile at him. I want him to know people will help him if he needs it. I want to dust his house. I want to help him make friends. I will be your first friend, Hermit Neighbor! Let me!