But first glances are often misleading. If you lived in the Sack for even a short period, you would soon encounter strange and unexplainable shenanigans.
For some unknown reason, some of the strangest events occur in the vicinity of the Wonders' driveway.
***
Last year, your agent found an intact low-fat blueberry muffin at the bottom of the driveway. There were no clues as to the muffin's origins or how it came to rest in that spot. Today, the event remains at the top of the Sack's "unsolved cases" file.
Last Wednesday, a new and more compelling mystery revealed itself on the Wonders' driveway. It was a shocking affair that had all of the elements of a good British mystery. It was obvious that some kind of foul play had occurred, but precious few clues as to the truth of the matter.
But there was no mistaking the two corpses on the Wonders' driveway.
***
As is her custom, Mrs. Wonders left the house to go to the local coffee cathedral early on Wednesday morning. After picking up two cups of java (single cream, no sugar, thanks), she usually returns to the house to pick up your agent for the drive to our respective jobs. It's a wonderful thing for her to do this, as I'm prone to dilly-dallying in the morning. By the time I'm ready, she is back in the Sack with our caffeine supply.
But on this Wednesday, Mrs. Wonders was stopped in her tracks when she glimpsed the carnage on the driveway. She returned to the house immediately. I was getting dressed in the kitchen, while simultaneously completing the Sudoku puzzle from the Daily Snooze.
"I think you better come outside," she said calmly. "It looks like we have a situation out on the driveway."
***
I saw the two corpses right away.
They were sprawled on their backs with their limbs hanging in the air. I could see a spot of blood on the stomach of one corpse. The other didn't appear to have any observable wounds. But it was clear that both were dead.
On the Wonders' driveway were the bodies of two mice.
***
It would be one thing to find a single dead mouse on your driveway. In the simple brutality of the animal world, such things can happen.
And, of course, Little Doug has a posse of outdoor cats. These animals have forged a killing patch at the back of his house. It's littered with dead rodents and birds. Distracted by something, it would be easy to envision one of Little Doug's cats dropping a dead mouse on the driveway en route to the killing patch.
But this certainly wouldn't explain how two mice found death on the Wonders' driveway at the same time.
***
There were varying opinions about the origins of the dead mice.
Little Doug was the first to call it a clear case of murder. He thinks it's quite likely that one or more of his cats were involved. He could be right about this.
Oscar, however, suspects each rodent suffered a massive stroke at the same time. A stroke, according to Oscar, is well known as "the silent killer." While I have great respect for strokes, I remain doubtful about this.
I reminded him that high blood pressure was known as "the silent killer." However, according to a Google search on the matter, there are a lot of things known as "the silent killer."
***
Weed, on the other hand, believes the rodent deaths were a matter of suicide. He said he could imagine that it must be very depressing to be a mouse "in this day and age."
When faced with skepticism about his suicide theory, Weed said he was leaving the door open for the possibility of a murder-suicide. He said this would explain the rather obvious wound on one of the mice.
***
Personally, I have no idea why there were two dead mice on the Wonders' driveway last Wednesday morning. I'm not sure if I want to know, either.
Not knowing something can be very helpful in some circumstances. I think this might be one of them.
***
Computer Doug had a completely different opinion on the matter.
He heard about the dead mice from Little Doug and approached me on the Wonders' driveway on Thursday afternoon. He cast a nervous glance onto the driveway as he drew closer. During a rare idle moment in his work-at-home day, Oscar had drawn white chalk lines around the little mouse bodies. The dead mice were now long gone, but the chalk outlines remained. Computer Doug seemed to shudder a little bit when he saw the outlines.
"That's where it happened, eh?" he asked solemnly.
"That's right," I replied.
"What did you do with the mice?" he asked.
"Flung them in woods," I answered, nodding toward the treed area behind Oscar's house.
Computer Doug nodded approvingly. Then he told me that the dead mice were likely a symbolic message. He said it was my job to interpret it and "govern yourself accordingly." For all he knew, he said it could also be a warning.
***
I told Computer Doug that I had no interest in messages or metaphors that involved dead mice. He said he wasn't surprised to hear this, but felt I was probably taking a big risk in ignoring the matter.
"It's dead mice on your driveway today," he said with authority, "and then a horse head in your bed tomorrow."
Computer Doug recently purchased a boxed DVD set of Mario Puzo's The Godfather on eBay.
***
News about shenanigans in the Sack travels quickly. Everyone I've encountered since Wednesday has immediately raised the matter of the dead mice. Most asked without even uttering a word of greeting first.
"Heard about your mice," was what Gordon said. There seemed to a very slight inflection on the word your. Perhaps this was just my imagination.
"They weren't my mice," I replied. "They just happened to collapse on my driveway."
Gordon said, "So they were poisoned, eh?"
I told him I had no idea about what caused the rodents to die.
***
Later the same day, Elizabeth took me to task for using poison around my home.
She's the Sack's leading environmentalist. She has seen Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth twice. Her first viewing was in Montreal. Then she saw it again when it was shown in the old town.
I quickly assured her of my innocence in the matter. I also reminded her about my push mower, as an example of my commitment toward respect for the natural world. A push mower advocate would never use poison on his property.
This reminder seemed to satisfy her. I told her I had no idea about how the rodents died.
"It's a mystery," I said flatly.
***
Elizabeth considered the matter for a few seconds and then fought hard to stifle a smile. Then she said, "Maybe they were mice suicides?" Then she started laughing awkwardly.
Typically, Elizabeth is not a person who's accustomed to laughter, especially her own. That's why she laughs like she needs more practice.
***
Yesterday afternoon, young Doo appeared on the Wonders' driveway as I made my exit from the car.
With his head cocked and one eye in a squint, he asked if he could have a look at my dead mice. He seemed offended when I told him that I had already disposed of their bodies.
"What did you do with them?" he asked.
Doo is currently in a long-term relationship with a speech therapist. When he says the word "with," it sounds like "wiff." It took all of my energy not to say, "Nuffin."
Instead, I said, "Flung them in the woods." Then I nodded toward the back of Oscar's house.
Like Computer Doug, Doo nodded approvingly and then headed toward Oscar's house.
***
The last person who mentioned the dead mice affair was Jeff Christ. He was on his way toward Oscar's house. Apparently, he was enlisted to help Oscar with a computer problem.
Weed says this is just a ploy by Oscar to have Jeff Christ walk on his lawn. He could be right about this.
Jeff Christ said he had heard about the dead mice. "Poor little guys," he said kindly. Then he asked, "What did you do with them?"
"Flung them in the woods," I replied. I added a slight, apologetic tone to my voice.
Jeff Christ winced a bit, but then nodded his approval. Then he said, "Well, at the least the little critters got a chance to fly. That's more than what some mice get."
I told him that was the most sensible thing I had heard about the matter since last Wednesday morning.
***
6 comments:
Some might say these were a gift from a cat. They often will bring people their catch as a 'present.'
Others might suggest it's the tragic result of a rodentiate head-on collision. Two mice in a hurry, not really looking where they are going.
And I'm sure it's one of those two. It most certainly is not an ominous warning from my Pleasant Street Overlords for suggesting I move into the Sack.
Yeharr
I like the head-on rodent collision. It's an angle no one has considered thus far. This is another reason you would make a good fit at Burning Manor.
But it would be just like those Pleasant Streeters to let some innocent mice do their talking for them. . . .
You are mistaken, sir. Dead mice tell no tales.
(you walked straight into that one, Guy...)
yeharr
I'm always walking into things. . . .
I'm curious about the muffin in the driveway. It just doesn't make sense.
Yes, the muffin mystery still makes no sense. This affair occurred back in December but remains unsolved. If I remember correctly, Oscar had a few ideas about it a few days later, but none held much credence. . . .
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