My Neighbours Were Suspected Diamond Thieves

Or more reasons I should listen to my kid brother

Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash

There is a three-story farmhouse with faded yellow paint tucked neatly into the tree line of our neighbour’s yard. The house doesn’t home people; we know that for sure. Its purpose is to protect the assemblage of antiques our neighbours collect on their daily journeys.

Yeah, guys. My neighbours have an entire house just for their collectables.

And they actually aren’t our neighbours at all. They’re our landlords.

We live on an acreage that isn’t quite subdivided, but three houses (including the antique house) are located on one lot. Ours is a doublewide trailer set close to the edge of the property.

The landlord’s is another doublewide, tucked into the trees on the opposite side of the lot. Beside their trailer is the large yellow house — the one I suspect is harbouring stolen diamonds.

I may have an active imagination at the age of 11, but my ideas are a little lacklustre and stale. However, because I am an adolescent, I won’t realize this until 25 years later when I’m writing a story about my sleuthing days.

Directly across from the diamond thieves’ homes is a large tin slide. It’s one of those pieces of equipment you can climb up…