That home I bought in 1999. In actuality, I almost took it. It had been constructed in 1951 by an old couple who lived there until they had to go into a nursing facility in 1997. Since the house was old and their sister was in charge of their business, she was unable to sell it.

They were trying to get out from under it, so I purchased it for roughly 55% of the evaluated market value.

The home features a single-car connected garage, front and back yards that are completely enclosed in wire fence, and a long driveway that runs along the south border of the West-facing property to the garage. The home is situated in the middle of the 150-foot-long land.

All of that is to say that I found one little garage to be insufficient, so I had one built on the back side that could be accessed from the alleyway. I had to remove the back fence and a big pine tree, but I managed to save a portion of the garage and create a patio that is enclosed by a privacy fence between the garage and the home.

I spent the most of my time outside in the large garage in the back. A middle-aged Mexican couple could be seen across the alley from it. She was a stay-at-home mother in the Mexican tradition, and husband had a decent job as a butcher worker in the neighborhood.

Luna was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old when I first became aware of it. Luna was a typical Mexicana—exotic, little, and quite attractive. She would give me a hesitant glance before ignoring my wave or hello. It was normal, and I was aware that my being a tall foreigner was unusual for them, particularly because I was a neighbor.

They were caught looking through my garbage and peering over my privacy fence, but I didn’t mind since I knew they were decent, hard-working folks just trying to get by in this wealthy nation called America.

They gave me maize and tomatoes from their garden, and I went Luna’s father and brother fishing on a few occasions in my tiny Jon boat.

When I was trying to carry something heavy, my brother and father unexpectedly rushed over to assist me. We only lived close by.

They held a Quincenera in honor of Luna when she turned eighteen. For Mexican Catholic girls, it is a rite of passage that acknowledges their femininity, similar to a Bar Mitzvah for Jews. Most people have them when they are sixteen years old, but Luna’s father would not allow her to even look at a male until she was eighteen, thus her Quincenera was delayed by two years.

After that, I would see Luna and a boy holding hands as they stood around the edge of their garage out of sight of mom and dad but visible to me from across the alley.

One evening, I witnessed them hugging while kissing. Later on, I witnessed some vigorous touching.

Luna was aware that I could see her, but she had to decide whether to let her father or me see. She concluded that I was the least of two evils because they wouldn’t provide her any other spot to meet with her boy in privacy.

Luna developed into an incredibly stunning woman. She had brown eyes with extremely white teeth, long, silky black hair that fell to her waist, delicious, immaculate-looking lips that invited me to bite, suck, and kiss them.

She has a cute tiny nose, stares at me with her head down, giggles, and gives me a look over the tops of her eyes. It is annoying and flirty.

I held a garage sale out of the front garage the spring before Luna’s senior year. Luna, wearing a low-cut shirt that showed everything except her areola, and Luna’s mother approached the situation. She was 18 years old and breathtaking. If she wanted to, she could model. Her features along with her flawless skin gave her an absolutely stunning appearance.

Luna spoke and was friendly for the first time ever, friendly like we had been close friends for years.

She had a chat with me similar to what a lady would have with a male. She was intelligent, funny, and good at flirting. She also smiled frequently.

“Mister Benjamin whenever you have a moment, I must ask you a question.” said Luna.

Sure, anytime, I answered.

I can’t stop thinking about her even though she is just 18 years old and I am 45.

On that particular day, Luna and her mother made a few purchases from me before making their way past my property and back to their own home across the lane.

That evening, at nine o’clock, my front door got a knock. Luna appeared.

They wanted to return one of the doo-hickeys they had purchased from me after discovering it wasn’t functional.

She added, “Also, I need to ask you a question. How much farther is it to get to New York by bus?” She posed a serious question.

I just remained still, gazing at her like a jackass through a fence.

She was let inside, and I promised to return with the money after getting my change. In order to retrieve my pants and bring her change, I walked barefoot back to my bedroom. Since it was warm, I was only wearing a pair of spandex shorts.

Luna was just behind me when I entered the bedroom, as I could see in the mirror on the other wall. (TO BE CONTINUED…)