The Sack has been very quiet. Cars come and go infrequently. A few Sack kids have been seen running from one house to the other.
Despite the rain, however, it has been unseasonably warm. It doesn't really feel like autumn, at all. Even though the leaves are changing colour, lawns in The Sack remain a healthy green.
For three days, it seems like The Sack has been taking a long, luxurious bath; a good time, one thinks, to reflect on events of the past.
***
We go back to an early summer Sunday at Burning Manor.
It's close to eleven o'clock in the morning and Mrs. Wonders and I enjoy coffee and newspapers on our back deck.
It is a glorious morning. The birds are plentiful at our feeders. And a small red squirrel, who Mrs. Wonders calls, Stevie, is making regular forays to dine on sunflower seeds.
This idyllic moment is suddenly shattered by a chorus of drunken voices. Mrs. Wonders and I look up from our newspapers and our eyes meet. In unison, we both mouth a silent expletive.
There is a deck party going on at Burning Manor.
***
Parties at Burning Manor were quite unique. They tended to begin early on a weekend morning and would fizzle out by mid-afternoon. It is widely believed that party-goers passed out by that time.
Sack theorists have concluded that the Burning Manor crowd prefers drinking at the tavern at night and at home during the day.
***
If one was ever to receive a written invitation to a Burning Manor party, it would probably read like this:
On Sunday, Dirk and Dora request the pleasure of your company at Burning Manor.
The festivities will begin at nine o'clock in the morning. Alcohol (and only alcohol) will be served in liberal quantities. To ensure sufficient stock, please bring your own ample supply.
Vomiting and spitting will be permitted in the backyard only, preferably in plain view of our unreasonable neighbours.
Drinking oneself to unconciousness is strongly encouraged. We are pleased to provide indoor floorspace for this purpose.
Ample parking is available on the street. Park on both sides of the road, so other cars will have difficulty getting by.
Please, cars built after 1995 are expressly prohibited. The ban on hubcaps will be strictly enforced.
RSVPs, whatever they are, are not required. If you find this invitation on the street somewhere, please feel free to come anyway. It doesn't matter if we have no idea who you are.
The festivities will begin at nine o'clock in the morning. Alcohol (and only alcohol) will be served in liberal quantities. To ensure sufficient stock, please bring your own ample supply.
Vomiting and spitting will be permitted in the backyard only, preferably in plain view of our unreasonable neighbours.
Drinking oneself to unconciousness is strongly encouraged. We are pleased to provide indoor floorspace for this purpose.
Ample parking is available on the street. Park on both sides of the road, so other cars will have difficulty getting by.
Please, cars built after 1995 are expressly prohibited. The ban on hubcaps will be strictly enforced.
RSVPs, whatever they are, are not required. If you find this invitation on the street somewhere, please feel free to come anyway. It doesn't matter if we have no idea who you are.
Okay, maybe the invitation wouldn't sound exactly like that, but you get the picture.
***
Soon after the drunken voices begin, Mrs. Wonders and I hear a very curious thing.
Amidst the voices, we suddenly hear the strumming of a guitar. This is the first time we've heard music associated with the Burning Manor crowd. For a brief moment, there is a sense of intrigue.
Amidst the voices, we suddenly hear the strumming of a guitar. This is the first time we've heard music associated with the Burning Manor crowd. For a brief moment, there is a sense of intrigue.
***
Momentarily, the voices become silent and only the guitar can be heard.
Then the assembled throng erupts in a garbled, out-of-tune rendition of The Eagles' Hotel California.
***
Mrs. Wonders and I are stupified. We glare at each other with painful looks on our faces. Neither of us have ever heard such a racket.
The birds, once so plentiful on our feeders, have flown off in all directions. Stevie, the squirrel, has fled to the top of a tree and is making a loud, angry clicking sound.
***
I have no trouble with The Eagles. I'm quite certain we have several of their CDs in the house. And Hotel California is not an objectionable song, by any measure.
But it's a song that should only be sung by those with a proven track record of entertaining others. Singing it alone in one's shower shouldn't be the only qualification for performing it in public.
***
The singing eventually reaches a painful conclusion. Mrs. Wonders and I have remained on our back deck, hopeful that this will be a one-song performance.
Sadly, the drunken souls begin to sing another song. Mrs. Wonders says it's a Bob Seger tune. If this is true, I believe Mr. Seger has a lot of explaining to do.
Before the song is over, Mrs. Wonders and I make a quick retreat from our back deck. We decide that today will be a front-porch kind of day.
***
A few hours pass and fortunately, the music has come to an end.
We sit on the front porch along with Oscar, his wife, G.W. and our next door neighbour, Florence. Everyone has heard the Burning Manor concert. Some people have even gone into Elizabeth's backyard to get a furtive, up-close view of the party.
As we discuss the morning's events, the distant sound of an emergency vehicle can be heard. The urgent sound seems to grow closer and closer to The Sack.
Suddenly, we see an ambulance move quickly into The Sack. It stops directly in front of Burning Manor.
***
The ambulance attendants proceed into Burning Manor.
After about five minutes, the front door opens and the attendants, flanked by Dirk and a few others, carefully manoeuvre a supremely obese, drunk woman down the front steps.
***
It soon becomes apparent that the woman is not pleased about ending her day at Burning Manor. As the group nears the back of the ambulance, she begins to thrash her arms about while making husky, unintelligible grunts.
The attendants retrieve a stretcher from the back of the ambulance, while Dirk and company try to restrain the woman.
A wrestling match begins as the attendants try to place her upon the stretcher. In the heat of battle, her sweat pants begin to fall toward her knees and her blouse becomes bunched at her neck.
It's a sight one would prefer not to see again.
***
Eventually, the woman is strapped onto the stretcher and muscled into the back of the ambulance. Dirk and his pals troop back into Burning Manor and the ambulance drives away.
On the porch, we sit in silence for a few moments, unsure if we actually witnessed this gruesome scene unfold in the pleasantness of The Sack.
***
Shortly, a group of people stumble from Burning Manor and climb into one of the dented, hubcap-free cars parked at the curb.
G.W., Oscar's wife, says, "At least they have the decency to go to the hospital to see how the poor woman is."
Everyone murmurs in agreement.
***
Fifteen minutes later, the car reappears in front of Burning Manor. The group departs from the car in a noisy, rambling fashion.
The driver and another fellow go to the trunk and open it. They retrieve two large cases of beer from the trunk and follow their buddies into the house.
***
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