If the Shoe Fits

Recent and unfortunate evidence that climate change might be upon us:

From May to October, Big Doug washes his truck by hand every weekend. This ritual is carried out even when the vehicle is clearly spotless.

On the first Saturday in January, Big Doug, clad in coveralls and a pair of Wellington boots, was outside on his driveway with water bucket and rags in hand. He spent the better part of an hour carefully washing his truck. The Weather Network claimed it was a balmy 13 degrees (Celsius) outside.

Oscar says we should expect a horde of flying monkeys to descend upon the Sack any day now. He could be right about this.

On the same quiet and sunny Saturday morning, Mrs. Wonders glanced out the window and suddenly gasped. Dirk was walking through the Sack with his big, barking dog on a leash. While this was unusual in itself, it was Dirk's outfit that sparked her reaction. He was wearing a black Harley Davidson T-shirt and what appeared to be a pair of pale blue boxer shorts. He was without socks and wore a pair of laceless work boots.

Other Sack residents caught a glimpse of Dirk and his dog. Given the choice between a horde of flying monkeys and seeing Dirk in his dog-walking apparel, all said the same thing:

"Bring on the monkeys."

***

On January 4, Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman left for a two-week vacation in Cuba. According to Oscar, it will be their first real vacation in many years.

Last year, of course, brought some significant challenges for Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman. As Mr. Bitterman described it to Oscar, his gall bladder was "on the fritz" during the early part of the year. At the same time, Mrs. Bitterman was engaged in a nasty battle with menopause. Apparently, this caused her to gain a lot of weight and appear as if she spent the majority of her time locked in a steamy sauna.

The Bitterman duo also had their hands full with the trials and tribulations of their daughter, Britney. She gave birth to Baby Maybe in May. While this was a joyous event, it was tempered by the fact that the illustrious Maxwell happened to be the baby's father. Maxwell, of course, is chronically unemployed and, other than the gift of a stolen bicycle, hasn't contributed a single loonie in support of his infant son.

One can only hope for better things for Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman as the new year begins. A fortnight in Cuba certainly sounds like a step in the right direction.

***

Sack residents, of course, are quite familiar with Cuba.

Big Doug, Gordon and several others have been going there annually for some time. Mrs. Wonders and a good friend leave next week for a seven-day stay. Ben and Norma went last year and plan to go again in March. Elizabeth and Florence have separate plans to holiday there in April.

Outside of Florida, Cuba is one of the few winter holiday destinations one can reach directly from the old town. Trips to other warmer climates require a connecting flight. And thankfully, Cuba is also a relatively inexpensive place to visit.

Oscar says the Sack is almost solely responsible for keeping the Cuban economy alive, in the face of the US trade embargo. I remain doubtful about this.

***

Several hours after the Bittermans left for Cuba, a taxi motored into the Sack and stopped in front of their house.

Maxwell stepped out from the front passenger seat carrying a green garbage bag. Britney, with Baby Maybe in tow, made her exit from the back seat of the cab. Then Maxwell walked around to the open trunk and removed a small suitcase.

As the taxi drove away, Maxwell and Britney, with Baby Maybe tucked in her arms, scaled the front steps and entered the Bitterman residence. For just a moment, they looked like a young couple entering their first newly-purchased home.

A few hours later, it was learned that Britney and Maxwell were residing in the house until Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman returned from Cuba. According to Weed, Maxwell said they decided to take a "vacation" at the Bitterman home while the opportunity was knocking.

He didn't say whether Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman were aware of the arrangement.

***

Barred from smoking in the house, Maxwell has quickly become a fixture on the Bitterman front porch. This has given him easy access to Sack residents as they go about their daily lives.

Maxwell, of course, remains "unwaged." That's how Oscar likes to describe it. Cutlass Supreme Painting, Maxwell's fledging business, remains at a standstill. Unlike his other visits to the Sack, he hasn't had much to say about the whereabouts of the company's namesake, a mostly grey-coloured 1993 Cutlass Supreme. It was last seen on the back of a tow truck, after he left it parked illegally outside the Bitterman home.

Comfortably ensconced on the front porch, Maxwell has been chattering away to anyone who will listen to him. He also tried to flog a fifty-dollar gift card from Canadian Tire. He claimed that he received it from one of his many cousins as a Christmas gift. However, Weed's girlfriend, Daisy has it on good authority that it was a gift from Britney's parents.

After failing to sell the card at its face value, Maxwell reduced the price to forty-dollars. Weed claims the card was eventually sold to Big Doug for thirty-five. He could be right about this.

***

Last Sunday, Oscar, Weed and your agent took a casual stroll to the local coffee cathedral. Oscar had a fist full of gift certificates for the place. He said he wanted to treat us to a round of double-doubles and some maple sugar donuts.

When we met on the street, before leaving for the local coffee cathedral, we found Maxwell near the Sack's centre circle. As usual, he was wearing his Montreal Canadiens tracksuit and a matching ball cap. This time, however, he was wearing only one white running shoe. He was holding the other one in his hand like a brick.

Maxwell was looking up at something on the hydro lines that run around the inside perimeter of the street. He was hopping up and down on one foot while taking aim at an object that hung from the wire. He was preparing to throw his other shoe at it.

***

While outside for his first cigarette of the day, Maxwell had noticed a curious addition to the Sack's landscape.

At some point during the night, a pair of Nike sneakers had been tossed on the overhead hydro lines. The sneakers were white, with blue striping. They looked relatively new. Someone had tied the shoes together so they would hang hopelessly over the hydro line.

Maxwell was trying to knock the sneakers off the wire by throwing one of his own at them.

***

In addition to being an expert in candlepin bowling, residential painting and the preparation of steamed mussels, Maxwell claims to have in-depth knowledge on the subject of sneakers.

The Nike sneakers that hung from the Sack's hydro lines, according to Maxwell, were definitely in the range of one hundred dollars. He also estimated the shoes to be either size ten or eleven. Either size, he told us with confidence, would fit his feet nicely.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, he squinted at the shoes as they bounced gently on the wire. His last throw had hit the wire itself, but had failed to dislodge the shoes. That's when Weed wondered aloud whether the shoes already belonged to someone in the Sack.

Maxwell seemed taken by surprise. Then he asked, "Well, if they did, why would they throw their Nikes on the hydro lines?"

***

As Maxwell continued to throw his shoe at the hanging sneakers, Oscar went to get his boy, Dorian. The sleepy-looking fourteen-year-old walked stiffly down the front steps with a bored expression etched on his face. Oscar asked him if the shoes belonged to him or any other Sack kid.

Dorian shielded his eyes from the sun and peered up at the hanging shoes. Then he smirked and said, "Ain't mine. Nobody else's, either."

"Aren't," said Oscar flatly.

"What?" Dorian replied.

"They aren't your shoes."

"So why'd you ask me to look at them?" Dorian said with a haughty tone.

"Never mind."

***

We invited Maxwell to join us down at the local coffee cathedral. But even the news about Oscar's gift certificates wouldn't pry him away from the hanging sneakers.

As we walked away, he was still throwing his shoe at the hydro wire. Dorian was now sitting on his porch steps with his elbow on one knee and his fist under his chin. Now, he wore a look of mild amusement as he watched Maxwell concentrate on his task.

***

At the local coffee cathedral, Weed told us about the latest addition to his unique vocabulary.

Whenever he sees or hears something he doesn't like, he says he's now uttering a single word of his own creation. The word, according to Weed, is "Ack." He said he got the idea for the word after watching one of Little Doug's bird-killing cats throw up a hair ball. I haven't had a chance to tell him that he isn't the first to conceive of the word. I'm quite certain it wouldn't make much difference to him anyway.

Weed gave us several demonstrations of how the word works for him. The first was when he discovered that the coffee matron had neglected to put sugar in his coffee. He took a drink of the brew, grimaced and then pointed to his coffee cup. Then he said, "Ack."

***

Weed said "ack" for the second time when we returned to the Sack.

As we walked into the Sack, we were startled by another unusual sight. Maxwell was near the top of a twenty-foot ladder that leaned against a telephone pole. At the bottom, holding the ladder in place, was Dorian and one of his pals. Several feet away, one of the Sack's ten-year-old cowboy kids was sitting on the trunk of a car watching the whole affair. He was wearing his western outfit with a pair of winter boots on his feet. There was a toque under his cowboy's hat.

At first, it appeared that Maxwell was using a long pole to try and unwind the shoes from the hydro wire. Moving closer, one realized that the pole was actually a pair of hockey sticks held together at their ends with duct tape.

Oscar looked up at him and asked, "Have you lost your mind, Maxwell?"

***

According to Dorian, Maxwell had borrowed the ladder from Little Doug. Later, Little Doug would say he had no idea why Maxwell needed the apparatus.

"When a man needs a ladder," Little Doug said calmly, "I assume he has a good reason for needing it."

The hockey sticks were provided by Dorian. Maxwell found the duct tape in Mr. Bitterman's garage. Dorian said Maxwell had suddenly arrived at the idea for the whole caper after his throwing shoe landed in a puddle of water.

***

Seconds after Oscar questioned his sanity, Maxwell gave a cry of triumph as he successfully unwound the shoes from the hydro wire. The sneakers fell from the wire and landed with a dull thud on the top of a parked car.

Maxwell backed carefully down the ladder and quickly snatched the shoes from the car's roof. He walked back to us with a satisfied smile on his face.

Oscar said to him, "You know you could've got yourself electrocuted, don't you?"

"No chance," Maxwell replied with a grin. "I've done all kinds of electrical work before. I could have my electrician's papers, if I wanted to."

"Ack," said Weed.

***

Maxwell walked over to the front porch of the Bitterman home and sat down on the first step. He was working furiously on the knots that held the sneakers together.

After finally freeing the laces, he flipped off his own shoes and put the Nikes on his feet. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Then he started to wiggle his feet in the newly-acquired sneakers. Finally, he took a few steps forward with a look of concentration on his face.

Maxwell stopped and then walked slowly back to the steps. He turned around again and wiggled his feet a few more times. Then, he looked at us and said, "Score."

Oscar simply shook his head. I gave Maxwell my trade mark peace sign and turned to walk back toward the Wonders' house.

"What do you think?" Maxwell asked Weed, nodding proudly at his new Nike sneakers.

"Ack," said Weed.

***