Today, a young stranger strolled into our yard.

It was the cool evening stretch of an overwhelmingly hot summer day. The intense heat drove most people indoors. My older sister was among those who had already run their errands and retreated inside to rest. Patios and front lawns were empty as far as the eye could see. Our home was mostly unfenced. It offered little resistance to wandering feet. So, the odd man made his way across the property undisturbed.

Until he reached the back, where I was.

I had also spent the early morning in town and was now unsparingly engaged in hand-washing clothes in the yard. As I pinned a rinsed garment to the line, he appeared surprised to see me.

He asked, somewhat hesitantly, if he could pass through to sit in the wooded area beyond our house.

There was dog food laid out for the neighbor’s hounds, and one of them was already eating. I told him no. He questioned why. I explained that the dogs often traveled through that area for meals. They would not take kindly to a stranger wandering close. As if to confirm my warning, growls and sharp barks erupted from behind the shared fence, startling him.

He then asked if there was another route to the trees. He insisted he only wanted to sit.

I told him firmly that it would be best not to try it.

After some hesitation, he walked around the side of our small cottage. I followed at a distance to make sure he left the property. Instead of heading toward the road, he seemed to be searching for a better entry point into the brush. This was precisely what I had warned against.

I wanted to be helpful. I suggested that since the other neighbors were not home, he could enter the wooded area from their side. I gave him directions, even offering advice about the terrain, which was rougher than ours. He would need to climb a small, heavily vegetated hill before reaching the stony forest I had mentioned earlier.

He did not follow my instructions well.

He lingered. Circled. Appeared confused.

Then he asked me whether there were ghosts in the forest. Or other creatures he should fear.

It seemed less like curiosity and more like reluctance. As though he did not trust my guidance or perhaps did not truly wish to go at all.

Eventually, he managed to wake one of the householders next door despite my assurance that no one was home. She stepped out. She was startled and annoyed. He addressed her as though she were interfering with some private mission of his.

I called out to him again. I had been watching the entire time.

He ignored her but, curiously, responded to me. On my second call, he returned.

I asked whether he knew his way home and if he was from the area. He said he lived just across the way. I asked again if he could find his way back, and he assured me he could.

By then, my other sister had awakened, and my cousin, who had been quietly observing, stood beside me. We all watched as he walked off, supposedly toward home.

For reasons I cannot explain, everyone seemed to assume we were somehow related, even the neighbor.

A truly odd young man.