As Good as a Rest

"Change is inevitable."

That's what Computer Doug said to Oscar the other day. If you had suddenly stumbled upon their conversation, his words would've sounded very profound.

Sadly, Computer Doug was simply referring to the large mound of coins in Oscar's front pocket. Oscar had been ranting about the long-ago introduction of one and two-dollar coins (loonies and toonies) into the Canadian currency system. Over the span of three days, he said he had amassed about thirty dollars in coins. He was starting to experience pain in his right hip, as a result of the heavy load in his pocket.

Oscar's hip pain, of course, represented only the latest in a series of physical complaints. He was already sporting a black eye sustained during the Sack's recent Canada Day street party. He was hit by an errant street hockey ball. The bruising under his eye has faded considerably during the last week. It has transformed in colour from deep purple to a warm mustard tone.

Oscar says it's the colour of jaundice.

In addition to the eye and hip injuries, Oscar is also sporting a bruised tail bone. This occurred during the same Canada Day festivities. I have no idea about the current colour of this particular injury.

If pressed, a mixture of goldenrod and sky blue would be my best guess.

***

Although Computer Doug was making reference to Oscar's surplus coins, his statement still held a larger truth. Change really is inevitable.

In the Sack, of course, change can be very deceptive. Looking around the cul-de-sac, it's not hard to see the same living landscape every day. People and their behaviour seem relatively predictable.

Suddenly, however, it can dawn that change has already occurred. The nuances of this process, of course, escape the eye. It can seem like a transformation has occurred almost overnight. What was consistent and stable yesterday, seems magically different today.

Young Doo is a good example of such change.

***

During most of his eight years on the planet, Doo has been regarded as something of a holy terror. At least, that's how Elizabeth prefers to describe the boy.

Elizabeth, of course, is a very prim and proper Sack resident who has little time for the antics of children. Nevertheless, I recall Doo's mom employing a similar characterization of her own son on a number of past occasions.

Recently, however, it has been noted that Doo has begun to evolve in a forward direction. His speech, for example, has improved dramatically. He's stringing together clear and complete sentences for the first time in his young life.

In the past, Doo had immense difficulties with pronunciation and diction. Only a veteran Sack resident could make head or tail of his verbal communication. Oscar liked to describe the lad's utterings as "Doo-speak."

Happily, a generous dose of speech therapy and some natural development have generated substantial improvements in these skills. Doo used to have considerable difficulty with the letter "F." Last week, however, your agent overheard him swearing profusely at another Sack child. His pronunciation was clear and distinctive. It was easy to discern the meaning of his words.

Conversely, when Doo uses the word "puck" now, one knows that he's making reference to a piece of hockey paraphernalia.

***

Doo has also become more single-minded in his play behaviour. In the past, he was known for engaging in a vast number of activities within a short period of time.

After furiously riding his bike around the Sack's centre circle for a solid fifteen minutes, Doo would fly up and down the street on his scooter. Moments later, he could be observed trying to master the intricacies of the skateboard. Then he would tear through the street wielding a hockey stick, sometimes without the benefit of a ball or hockey net. Later, he would stand in front of the basketball net near the centre circle and make numerous unsuccessful attempts to sink a basket.

When he tired of these activities, Doo would disappear from view. Sometimes he would simply head home. On other occasions, he would involve himself in shenanigans in the backyards of other Sack residents.

Either way, the Sack would bear clear evidence of his previous activities. His bike would lie against the curb of the centre circle. His skateboard and scooter would be abandoned in separate parts of the street. Sometimes, his hockey stick would be lying in the middle of the road. The basketball would lie forlornly on whatever lawn it came to rest upon after Doo's last unsuccessful shot.

***

Lately, however, Doo has been focusing his attention on one particular activity. He's doing nothing but digging.

The vacant lot between the Sack and the local coffee cathedral has always attracted Sack kids. It has been a open space to find rocks, insects and other curiosities. It's the perfect playpen to explore the depths of childhood imagination.

The land itself was shaped by the development surrounding it. Until quite recently, it looked like a desert. Construction fill had been dumped and then flattened. Over time, however, vegetation has taken root. Although mostly wild bushes, weeds and wildflowers have blossomed, it has changed the look of the land where Serenity Terrace will eventually stand. Now it's a multifaceted terrain where someone can easily disappear from view.

Within a small enclosure of wild bushes on the vacant lot, young Doo has commenced his digging activity. Apparently, he's building an underground fort. Since school ended in June, he has spent most of his time excavating a foundation for this structure. Oscar says he sees Doo walking through the Sack with a wheelbarrow and shovel almost every morning. He works primarily during the day, but has also been devoted to the task on the occasional evening.

According to Doo, the pit will eventually be covered with plywood, followed by a further coverage of tree branches and shrubs. No one, of course, will be permitted to enter the fort without Doo's express consent.

***

It isn't entirely clear why Doo has been able to marshal such energy into a single endeavour. Perhaps he has found something that fills him with passion. Maybe he just likes digging.

Oscar, however, believes it has more to do with Doo's attention-deficit medication. This, he opines, has given the boy the ability to sustain a singular focus that borders on obsession. He thinks Doo is on enough "kid dope" to fell a small horse.

I have no idea about such things.

***

Change is also evident in Doo's appearance.

A mop of sandy hair has always graced the top of the boy's head. A few weeks ago, however, Doo's hair was almost completely shorn. According to Doo, his mother thought it would be good for him to have a brush-cut for the summer months.

Doo's mom, however, confided to Norma that the hairstyle was necessitated by the lad's private attempts to cut his own hair.

The impact of Doo's new haircut on his appearance has been considerable. It has brought out his facial features more clearly and, in the opinion of some, given him a vaguely menacing look. Of course, this perception may have been influenced by Doo's more recent choice of clothing.

The Sack's weather has been dismal of late. Sunny days are quickly followed by a series of wet and foggy ones. Poor weather, of course, hasn't diminished Doo's fervor for digging. Last Wednesday, Doo was observed as he commenced an evening shift at the site of his soon-to-be-completed underground fort.

Because of the wet soil, Doo had elected to wear a pair of winter boots. The legs of his blue jeans were tucked into the boots. He also wore a clean white T-shirt. His only accessory was a pair of yellow suspenders. Apparently, these used to belong to his step dad, Sticky.

As Oscar, Weed and your agent reclined on the Wonders' front porch, we considered Doo's appearance from a distance. Weed said Doo seemed to be only a few body-piercings away from becoming a bonafide, punk-like skinhead. Oscar nodded his agreement.

"I don't think that was the kind of change in Doo that anyone was looking for," he said wistfully.

***

Another fine example of change in the Sack lies in the fortunes of Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell. Oscar recently had a driveway chat with Mr. Bitterman and provided your agent with an update.

Maxwell, it seems, has made a successful return to the Bitterman residence after a lengthy period of exile. According to Mr. Bitterman, Maxwell has continued to be gainfully employed within the old town's waste management profession. He has even provided Britney with money for the upkeep of their son, Baby Maybe.

Mr. Bitterman also expressed surprise at the length of Maxwell's current employment. Apparently, he has exceeded his previous personal best by a considerable amount. Mr. Bitterman says three weeks was the longest Maxwell had ever remained in a job prior to his current gig.

"The guy has changed jobs in the past more often than I change my underwear," Mr. Bitterman said with a wry grin. Then he gently nudged Oscar in the ribs and added:

"And I change my underwear every friggin' day."

Despite Maxwell's apparent metamorphosis, Oscar says Mr. Bitterman remains convinced that his de facto son-in-law will eventually revert to form.

"A leopard," he said quietly, nudging Oscar in the ribs again, "doesn't change its spots."

***

In fairness, Mr. Bitterman also admits that Maxwell seems to be conducting himself in a reasonable fashion as a resident of the Bitterman household. During his previous stays, he said Maxwell could almost always be found in a horizontal position. Now, it appears that he's spending more time with Baby Maybe and his fragrant partner, Britney.

Of more significance to Mr. Bitterman is the fact that Maxwell is spending less time inside the house. He said he wasn't sure what Maxwell is up to when he's not toiling as a waste management professional. On the other hand, he said he really doesn't care, either.

"The less I see of Maxwell, the better," he confided to Oscar. Then he poked Oscar in the ribs again.

Oscar says Mr. Bitterman's rib-poking has increased substantially over the last few months. He said he was going to mention it to the man, but doesn't want to offend him.

Weed, however, says Oscar should set Mr. Bitterman straight on the matter.

"Nobody likes a rib-poker, man," he said emphatically.

***

Maxwell's flirtations with responsibility certainly represent a welcome change from his previous form. Nevertheless, Mr. Bitterman's skepticism about the possibility of a permanent transformation is understandable. After all, Maxwell has shown glimpses of potential in the past. Inevitably, however, he finds a way to revert to his old ways.

But Weed reported another nugget of information about Maxwell that indicates a new era may be dawning. Cutlass Supreme Painting finally landed its first-ever gig. And not only has the work been completed, but the company was actually paid for its endeavours.

Maxwell, according to Weed, is simply bursting with pride at this accomplishment.

***

Cutlass Supreme Painting, of course, is Maxwell's commercial painting enterprise. Until now, and despite the existence of a box of business cards, the company only existed within Maxwell's fertile imagination.

Originally established as a full-time business, it was relegated to part-time status when he became a waste management professional. This distinction, however, mattered little. Cutlass Supreme Painting still lacked its first bonafide painting gig.

The company also had one other deficiency. Its namesake, a certain 1993 Cutlass Supreme, remained outside of Maxwell's grasp. In addition to giving substance to the company's name, it was a required means of transportation to any prospective painting gigs.

As Maxwell once said himself, "You can't take a twenty-foot ladder on a city bus, you know."

Weed remains uncertain whether Maxwell knew this as a matter of common sense or from actual experience.

***

The 1993 Cutlass Supreme is now in the capable hands of Maxwell's cousin, Dougie Duggan. He rumbles into the Sack behind the wheel of this vehicle with some regularity now.

Dougie Duggan, of course, is also Maxwell's boss in the waste management profession. Often, he gives Maxwell a ride home from work. Sometimes, he'll even allow Maxwell to use the car to run errands or go shopping with Britney Bitterman and Baby Maybe.

Several weeks ago, however, Dougie Duggan entered the Sack early on a Friday night. He parked in the Bitterman driveway and waited for Maxwell to emerge from the house. The garage door eventually opened from the inside and Maxwell appeared with an armful of paint brushes and tarpaulins. After storing these items in the back of the Cutlass Supreme, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan began to affix a twenty-foot ladder to the roof of the vehicle.

Cutlass Supreme Painting, it appeared, was alive and kicking.

***

According to Weed, the company's first-ever painting job was an interior residential gig. Apparently, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan were tasked with painting the livingroom and bedrooms of another cousin's neighbour.

They completed the job over two weekends. According to Weed, the company received six hundred dollars for their labour. Maxwell said he gave the client a discount rate, because he and Dougie were provided with a constant supply of free drink.

Maxwell was also quick to point out to Weed that Dougie Duggan was merely his assistant on the job.

"He might be my boss on the garbage truck, but I'm his boss when it comes to painting," he guffawed. Then he poked Weed in the ribs for emphasis.

***

Oscar marvelled at the apparent transformation in both young Doo and Maxwell. It wouldn't be long, he pointed out, before Burning Manor would grace the cover of Home and Garden magazine.

Weed, however, said that Maxwell's achievements shouldn't be viewed with too much optimism. That's when he told us how Cutlass Supreme Painting handled its first-ever revenue.

Apparently the painting gig was completed on the day before Canada Day. That evening, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan made a foray into the downtown quarter and consumed copious amounts of drink and fast food, not to mention a generous contribution to the old town's casino. Another portion of the revenue was used to renew their constant supply of marijuana.

According to Weed, these endeavours left Cutlass Supreme Painting with only two hundred dollars.

"Well, at least they had something left to show for their efforts," said your agent, with an optimistic tone.

"Not exactly," replied Weed. On Canada Day, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan invested their remaining funds into a supply of fireworks. These were disbursed at Doug Duggan's kick-ass Canada Day party.

***

Your agent happened upon Computer Doug yesterday.

After exchanging pleasantries, we talked about recent events in the Sack. I happened to mention the latest news on Maxwell's fortunes. Computer Doug was greatly entertained by the emergence of Cutlass Supreme Painting and the spending habits of Maxwell and his cousin, Dougie.

"I guess it's true what they say," Computer Doug replied with a laugh. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

***