In Which Ella Gets Suspicious

This evening I was carrying a basket of laundry to the basement when someone knocked on the front door. And when I looked through the window to see who it was, I saw an old man, holding up a badge that said he was a school security guard. The picture on the badge matched his face and the badge was the same type that all the school security guards wear, so I opened the door and asked him what he needed.

It turns out he wanted my neighbor’s phone number so that he could establish their residency in the town. He said that they weren’t answering the door. Now, I do know that the town has been having a problem with out of district students, but my neighbors have had their kids in the public school system since they were in kindergarden. The oldest one is fifteen and a high school sophomore! It’s not like they’re renting their house, either. They own it, which means that if you go town hall, you can see the official documents proving that they own the house, live in it, and pay their taxes. Having a school security officer come to their house is entirely unnecessary when one phone call or quick look over their records would confirm the obvious.

Then, the guy said that he couldn’t get into the house because of the dog, which also struck me as strange because they have a very docile golden retriever. He also said he was trying to go knock on their back door. It was all very weird, and I stood there a little dumbstruck as I watched him walk across their yard and to their gate.

So thirty minutes later, I spoke to my neighbor about what I had seen happen. It turns out that they were home the entire time and never heard a knock or the doorbell, and he let the dog out of the backyard. They had to go scouring the neighborhood to find her.

I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m really hoping that no one tries to break into any of our houses. And if they try to get into our house, the joke’s really on them. We’ve got double locking windows, no hidden keys, and a security system. They’d either be unable to get in or get caught by the police very quickly.

It wasn’t until the security officer left that I realized that I had been holding the laundry the entire time I was talking to him, and all of the underwear was on top. This is one of the many reasons I am glad I’m no longer in high school. I’m never going to have to see that guy again, knowing that he saw all of my underwear. Of course, the underwear matters very little compared the potential security threat.

In other news, no screaming and convulsion inducing nightmares last night!

In other, other news, I have eighty percent of a very long post drafted about the remainder of my adventures in the city on the day of Maureen Johnson’s book launch party for The Name of the Star. Expect it tomorrow. Warning: Good things happen.

And as always, you can also find me on tumblr at, if you’re into that kind of thing.