***
She has hosted several impromptu "pop and chip parties" on our front lawn. These affairs have been well-received among Sack kids.
During the summer months, Mrs. Wonders is also known for mass, unsolicited, distributions of popsicles.
***
I have mixed feelings about these efforts. On one hand, I see the kindness and good cheer associated with them. But, it is not particularly subtle. One does not want to try too hard.
And, of course, there are other drawbacks.
***
There is a very young lad in The Sack named Doo.
His real name is actually Drew, but he has some unfortunate difficulties with pronunciation and diction. He has now reached the lofty age of six and one hopes that speech therapy will soon be in his future.
***
Young Doo has always been a going concern in the neighbourhood.
As a four-year-old, he was known for tearing naked around The Sack on his bicycle. Oddly, he would not forget to don his bike helmet.
***
Should another fire occur in The Sack, at some point in the future, Oscar has his money squarely on Doo as the likely culprit.
***
Early on weekend mornings, it is common for wee Doo to knock upon our door.
Bedraggled and unkempt, I will struggle into my bathrobe and respond to his persistent tapping.
Doo will inquire cheerfully whether I would like to "Come out and pay." I will decline respectfully, pointing out that I have many important adult things to accomplish on my morning agenda.
By this, I am referring to such things as drinking coffee, perusing the newspaper and, quite possibly, going back to bed.
***
Undeterred, Doo will then ask whether Mrs. Wonders might like to play with him. Sometimes, I will tell him that she is 'grounded' and is not allowed beyond our door.
Doo always nods knowingly, when I tell him this.
***
What Doo may be lacking in verbal and perceptual skills, he makes up for in resourcefulness.
He will then politely ask if Mrs. Wonders and I might spare him a popsicle or some other confection from our kitchen.
***
To the reader, this may all sound terribly cute. It is less so, when Doo appears on a February morning, wrapped from head to toe in a snow suit, asking for a popsicle.
***
Doo is also prone to tantrums. He is extremely proficient in this area.
One late afternoon about a year ago, Doo was playing on the street and his mother sought to bring him home for supper. The young lad ranted and raved in an impressive fashion, before collapsing in a heap upon Computer Doug's lawn.
There are several Sack residents who make their living as nurses. One of them was present while Doo lay crumpled on the grass.
Rather excitedly, she pointed out to Doo's mom that a medical crisis was unfolding before everyone's eyes. Not only was Doo's face turning a pale shade of blue, but he also appeared to have stopped breathing.
***
Admittedly, Doo's mother is a rather odd woman. She almost always has her arms folded on her chest, even when she walks. It is difficult to know what to make of her.
She turned to the nurse with an exasperated look. She gazed down at Doo disapprovingly. Then she said, "Oh, he's always doing that."
***
She looked down at Doo again and impatiently nudged him with her foot.
Sure enough, Doo suddenly coughed and sputtered. He got up slowly and with a look of defeat.
***
Doo walked dejectedly down the street toward his home. His mother followed behind him by about six feet.
Both walked with their arms folded tightly against their chests.
***
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