Farmer H was acting quite suspicious Saturday night. He'd gone to the auction as usual, around 6:00. I was upstairs warming my supper shortly after 8:00. Standing at the kitchen counter, I heard the dogs bark, and thumping on the porch. You never know what those crazy mutts are reacting to.
From the corner of my right eye, I saw the kitchen door move. It opened just a crack. It had been locked, and the porch light on. Of course I assumed it was Farmer H coming in, although he sometimes is out until after 10:30 at the auction.
Nobody came in.
Well. I was in a fine mess if I was about to be robbed. My purse was sitting on the other section of the counter. The mini blinds were open. Whoever was on the porch could stand and watch me, then burst in when good and ready.
"HEY! What are you doing?" I yelled. To Farmer H, I was sure.
Nothing. The kitchen door closed again. That was curious. Why was my Sweet Baboo not answering me? Surely it WAS my Sweet Baboo. Not an intruder...
A couple minutes later, the door opened again, and Farmer H walked in.
"WHAT are you doing?"
"Nothing. I just got home."
"Why did you close the door when you knew I was up here?"
"I didn't."
"I SAW you open the door. Then close it. And you didn't answer me when I hollered."
"Oh. The dogs was there."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Well. Jack. Jack was there. But he didn't come to the door. So I went to check on him."
"That sounds SO fishy! What's wrong with Jack?"
"Nothing. He looks okay. Just like he doesn't feel good."
"I think you got something at the auction you didn't want me to see. So when I was here, you stashed it somewhere. To go back after."
"I didn't have nothin'."
"Huh. Something is not right."
Farmer H went on through the kitchen. On his way to the master bathroom in our bedroom. The boys' bathroom is closer. He often uses that one. While he was gone, I went out on the porch to investigate my theory.
Hmm. The kitchen door was NOT LOCKED for the night! He always locks it. He'd turned off the porch light. I turned it back on, and went out. Nothing on Juno's house except Farmer H's old pair of work boots. Huh. They weren't there earlier in the day, around 3:00. I looked behind Juno's house. Went around the corner. I didn't see any new old junk on the side porch. So curious. What was Farmer H up to?
I went back inside and locked the door. Turned off the porch light. Huh. There was Farmer H's cell phone, laying on the kitchen counter just inside the door. Weird. And now here came Farmer H himself, in a t-shirt, no pants!
"What in the Not-Heaven are you doing? I know you're up to something! You didn't lock the door!"
"Oh. Sometimes I forget."
"Why is your cell phone way over here on the counter?"
"I lay it there all the time."
"You do not! I never see it there."
"I put it there to remind me that I need to take my weekly shot. I'm getting it now. See? Out of the fridge."
"Something is going on here! I'll find out eventually."
As I carried my supper down the basement steps, Farmer H stood behind the couch.
"Well, now that I'm down here, I guess you'll go back outside to get whatever you're hiding."
"I don't know why you say that."
"Obviously, you're not sitting down. You're waiting. Waiting for me to get out of sight."
"I was standing here talking to you! Because you were talking to me!"
Sure. As I recall, Farmer H can still carry on a conversation with me while he's sitting in his La-Z-Boy.
I don't really care what Farmer H buys at the auction. It's his own money he's spending. He's already got way too many guns, but he makes no secret of buying them. All I can think of that he'd try to hide would be candy or cookies or donuts. He pretends he doesn't eat them.
DOH! I really wish I had felt down inside those boots...
You need one of those Inspector Gadget sleuthing caps, or the hat/cap worn by that detective who had Dr Watson as his sidekick.
ReplyDeleteWhy do they try to hide things, we are obviously into them. Wouldn't it be easier to just confess instead of making us work for it?
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteI need Inspector Gadget's snap-on parts, like the one that my boys got in the McDonald's Happy Meals back when that movie came out. Sadly, we got everything but a left leg. Poor Inspector.
I'd like the meerschaum pipe of Sherlock Holmes, just to hold and tap against my teeth and look wise.
***
Kathy,
Sadly, they do not realize than in a battle of wits, they are unarmed.