Disclaimer: I don't own Kim or Ron, but Mrs. Peters is mine, I guess.
Chapter Quote: When the last tree is felled, the last river poisoned and the last fish dead, we will realize that we can't eat money. - Greenpeace
…
Kim dropped the shovel to her side and wiped her brow, admiring her handiwork. "Big enough?"
Ron picked the baby tree up by its trunk and lowered it into the hole. "Looks good." He untied the string holding the cloth on and set the oak in, stepping back to marvel at the new and improved backyard. "Now Oak Street has an oak tree, our backyard has some character, and…"
"I have class." Kim brushed her hands off while Ron snapped a picture.
"Already? It's only," he glanced at his watch, "noon. And Saturday. I was going to make PB and J." He snapped a picture of her. "Heh, that rhymes."
Kim gave a pathetic smile and handed him the shovel. "Rain check?" They traded a soft kiss. "Tomorrow?" Ron hugged her loosely, slipping his free hand under her blouse to touch the skin of her lower back. He nodded and gave her another kiss before she pulled away.
"Tomorrow." She headed back toward the house, turning at the sliding glass door to wave. "Have fun."
Ron looked at the oak tree, frowning. "Oh yeah, tree planting: the new extreme sport. Any more excitement like this and I might have to take a nap."
"You're the new neighbors, eh?" A squeaky voice called out to his right. Ron turned around. "Doin' yard work? You enjoy yard work, boy?"
Ron found himself looking down at an old lady, no taller than five feet and barely wider than the new tree, with thick glasses dangling off of a round nose and peppered hair wrapped in a tight bun. She looked over 80, with wrinkles everywhere, and every inch of skin except her face and hands was covered with thick, dark cloth. "I like it all right, Mrs… I'm Ron Stoppable, by the way." He held out his hand.
"Mrs. Peters." She rested her fingers in his for a second before pulling away. A long, bony finger complete with pink nail polish was thrust in front of Ron's nose. "You, you did something!"
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Did I? I planted a tree." He pointed at the tree. "Although technically I haven't put dirt over it yet, don't wanna rush the beautification process."
"I'm not talking about the tree!" Mrs. Peters' chest swelled with a deep intake of breath. "Well, Ronald, I've been watching you very closely and before you moved in your yard had squirrels and I haven't seen them since!"
Ron resisted the urge to bend onto one knee in order to hear her better. "Ma'am?"
"You sprinkled stuff all over your lawn!"
"Oh." Ron chuckled, his stomach growling, "grass seeds. Our grass is patchy, see?" He pointed with the shovel at a patch of dirt, covered in green seeds.
The finger started waving back and forth. "Rubbish, I'm old, but I'm no fool, Ronald!"
Ron nodded, trying to avoid being whacked by the finger. "All right, you're not an old fool. But I am, what did I do? And what do grass seeds have to do with squirrels?"
"You're poisoning the squirrels!"
"What!"
"Don't you act surprised, boy." Mrs. Peters glared, her eyes squinting under the weight of the wrinkles. "They were here before you moved in, you sprinkled the yard, and now they're gone!"
Ron raised an eyebrow, setting the shovel down. "Ma'am, the squirrels lived in our garage, they left when we moved in because we were loud and scary," he wiggled his fingers to add affect.
Mrs. Peters paused her finger and silently debated, mouth slightly open. Ron wondered if he looked like that when he was baffled. Suddenly her eyes lit up. "If that's true, then why haven't they moved back?"
Ron shrugged. "Interest rates?"
"I'm not laughing, Ronald, squirrel poisoning is no joke!" The wagging finger returned. "What young man poisons innocent, hapless, adorable little squirrels, anyway?"
Ron took a step back, putting his hands up in defense. "All right, Mrs. Peters, this is going a bit far…"
"And what young man moves all of the way out here? Why so far from the college, eh?"
"One with a steady salary? …Are you Canadian, by chance?"
Mrs. Peters' cheeks turned red. "Don't interrupt me, Ronald. Where was I?" She tapped her chin with the previously wagging finger. "Ah yes, and what young man has such a pretty little wife digging holes?"
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Uh… what?"
Mrs. Peters' eyes lit up behind her glasses, making them look even bigger. "What kind, eh?"
Ron sighed, as though waiting for a bad punch line. "I dunno, what kind?"
"A cult member!"
"What!"
"I know trouble when I see it! I traveled in my younger days, Ronald," the finger was waving so hard Ron was afraid it might fly off.
"Me too." He slapped a hand over his mouth.
Mrs. Peters' five foot frame shook with built up anger. Her fists clenched open and closed, her eyes narrowed to wrinkle-covered slits, and her face turned a shade of dark purple. Her right foot lifted up and bent back, then swung forward with forced momentum, kicking Ron in the shin.
"OW!" Ron grabbed his foot and hopped in place, trying to gain back his lost balance.
Hands on hips, Mrs. Peters watched him. "I've got my eye on you, Ronald, you and your squirrel killing cult buddies." She kicked his other shin for good measure. "And I'm warning the whole neighborhood!" She turned and started across the yard. "Oh, and tell your little wife, Kim, thank you for the gingersnaps, I did love them."
…
Pokey: thanks, that's my nickname in high school, by the way (every group should have a pokey)
Aliciamartin851: thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoy this chapter
Gargoylesama: you're questions will be answered, just not quite yet, I'd like to think it becomes clearer throughout the story, but knowing me I'll give up on hinting and just tell you guys straight out.
Mist: yep, oak tree! Glad you like it so much so far, and I hope that the story does live up to its potential. And yeah, Ron does kind of adopt the neighborhood kids, that's how it was in my neighborhood, too.
Dudei'mlikesobus: yeah, the first chapter feels very awkward to me, too, but I hope this one's a better read. It was written in one sitting, instead of two, which helps. Good luck with the world domination thing.