This is but a mere dusting of snow.
Nevertheless, Big Doug is in standby mode. His shovels remain primed and ready for action.
The tension is mounting with every passing hour.
***
Young Doo has flatly denied any responsibility in the case of the third broken tree branch in the Sack's centre circle.
He finally emerged from hiding yesterday and was immediately cornered by Gordon, lord of the Sack and all of its trees.
Doo maintained complete innocence under persistent questioning. In his own defense, he exclaimed:
"I nebber did nuffin!"
***
"Nuffin," of course, rhymes with muffin, and that's exactly what I found at the bottom of my driveway this morning.
It was a whole muffin, seemingly in perfect condition and without a single bite taken from it.
The origins of the muffin and how it found its way to the Wonders' driveway remains a mystery. It's common for miscellaneous bits of garbage to land on the street after the old town's waste management professionals have made their weekly visit. But garbage collection was on Friday and the muffin wasn't there on Saturday.
It is all very perplexing.
***
I have no expertise on the subject of baked goods.
Mrs. Wonders, who does know about such things, tells me the mystery item appears to be a low-fat, blueberry muffin.
Oscar says I should send an email to the members of the Sack Resident's Society about this matter. He says this is exactly the kind of dilemma the email group was set up for.
Mrs. Wonders thinks my time might be better spent putting Christmas lights up, constructing a holiday budget and helping her to decorate the Christmas tree.
She's probably right about these priorities. But I'm finding the muffin mystery to be far more compelling.
***
Speaking of Oscar, I ran into him at the local market yesterday. He was there to buy salt. I was there to buy pepper. Who could've predicted that?
"Have you noticed, by any chance," he said, "the numbers on Rental Doug's license plate?"
Oscar continues to float the ludicrous notion that Rental Doug is somehow connected to the Devil. His theory is based on the fact that two different ministers bought homes in the Sack and then quickly moved away. Rental Doug now lives in a home once occupied by one of the ministers.
"No," I replied, "I can't say I've paid much attention to his license plate."
Oscar quickly looked around the market as if we were surrounded in a den of spies. Then he leaned closer to me and said quietly, "His last three numbers are 668."
***
"And what, in the name of heaven, does that have to do with anything?" I replied.
Oscar gave me a pitiful look. "The Devil is known by the digits, 666, right?"
"If you say so." I said.
"Well, if Rental Doug is 668, then you know what that means."
"Nope, I don't think I do." I answered.
Impatience fell over his face. "If he's 668, then he's the Neighbour of the Beast."
"Ah." I said. "Of course, he is."
***
We would be remiss if we did not provide an update on Oscar's man boob eradication project.
He recently discovered that his breasts were beginning to take on female-like proportions. Dismayed at this discovery, Oscar was committed to twenty push-ups a day to return to his previous, more masculine form.
Unfortunately, he discovered he'd bitten off more than he could chew in the push-up department. The best he could manage were six push-ups at a time.
***
Oscar now reports that he has suspended the push-up program for the rest of the holiday season.
He managed to do the push-ups on three occasions over the last two weeks. He said he was too busy with other important matters to do them more often.
During his last attempt at the exercise, Oscar said he collapsed on his basement carpet after setting a "personal best" of seven complete push-ups. He remained prone on the carpet for a few minutes, trying to regain his energy. Somehow, he fell asleep for over an hour.
He awoke only after the persistent ringing of his cell phone. It was his wife, B.W. calling. Oscar was supposed to pick her up from work about fifteen minutes earlier.
***
Oscar said the man boob eradication program is still in effect, even though the exercise component has been suspended. Effective immediately, he is "off bread of any kind."
I noticed a package of donuts in his shopping cart, but I didn't say anything to him about it.
***
As we end today's Sack news, I see that snow is starting to fall in a very gentle way. It's not staying on the ground, but it's accumulating on the windshields of the parked cars.
Through the falling snow, I take a quick glance over at Big Doug's house. It's dark out, and there is only a pale light in his front window. I think I can see the shadow of his large frame standing in the window, but I'm not sure. It could simply be an illusion or my mind getting the best of me.
But even if he's not standing in his window watching the snow, I know where he will be. He'll be in his garage getting "suited up" for shoveling.
If he does go out, even to just clean off his windshield, I think I might go outside as well. I have no interest in the snow, of course. I just wouldn't mind having a chat with Big Doug.
He might be a witness in the muffin mystery. I could break the case wide open.
***
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