When I left for town on Saturday afternoon, I was greeted by an unwelcome sight down by Mailbox Row. A gray-haired man with a ponytail, wearing jeans, white t-shirt, and a black leather vest.
IT'S CREACHER SEASON!
Yes, the creachers have returned to our creek beach. This one wasn't lolling about on the gravel road shoulder, but he had his MOTORCYCLE parked there! Right by the now-stove-in Bus-Waiting Shed. This CREACHER was pacing along the low-water bridge that spans the creek. When he saw me stop T-Hoe (to put on my seatbelt before pulling out on the blacktop county road), CREACHER went to kneel down by his tiny tripod.
CREACHER had a 2-foot-high tripod with a mounted phone or camera. That's very low for a tripod. Maybe it was a tripod made to travel on a motorcycle, heh, heh. It just looked very fishy to me. Why would anyone be taking pictures of our creek? It's low. Maybe 3-4 inches deep. And how do you take pictures while pacing around? If it was a video, why did he need to go kneel down and act like he was doing something?
Anyhoo... I abandoned my plan of getting out for the mail, and went on to town, where I spent about an hour in assorted convenience stores, the post office, and Country Mart. So I was gone about an hour and twenty minutes before I steered T-Hoe down the hill to the mailboxes as I came home.
SWEET GUMMI MARY! The CREACHER was still there! This time, he had his tiny tripod set up on the other side of the bridge. He was still pacing around, side to side. What in the NOT-HEAVEN was this CREACHER doing here?
I am suspicious by nature. In the late '80s, I was burglarized in the city of Springfield by a ring of thieves who stationed a watcher at the corner, to walkie-talkie info to the breaker-inners when a certain car left the area. It was a dead-end street where my apartment was located. I came home to fine the door had been pried open by a screwdriver, my VCR and new videotape of ALIENS missing, and the sliding door in the kitchen wide open. Police said that was the getaway plan. Up and over the patio fence, after balancing the VCR on the corner. That perhaps I returned too soon, and the perp was in a hurry to leave.
Anyhoo... I wondered if this guy was part of a thief ring, just acting like he was taking pictures. Or maybe he was waiting to make a meth deal. I don't see any advantage to hanging out there, pacing, for over an hour. Any pictures or videos could have been finished in that time.
No way was I getting out for the mail. No Siree, Bob! Even though Mrs. HM would be harder to haul away on a motorcycle than in a white raper van, I was taking no chances.
I detest a creepy CREACHER.
Something fishy in the creek? Or was he pretending to tape stuff while keeping any eye out for mail deliveries that he can then steal? or maybe he was on the lookout for mail thieves so he could nab THEM. We'll never know since you didn't hang your head out the window and cheerily ask "whatchadoin'?" I wouldn't have either.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteHeh, heh! This CREACHER was the only fishy object at the creek. It's too shallow for real fish, though sometimes people try to trap minnows there.
I also thought of the mail-thief angle, but I'm pretty sure the mail had already been delivered, since it was after 2:30 when I left. He didn't look like the criminal-apprehending type!
Of course I didn't hang my head out the window to quiz the CREACHER. I value my head! And I'm sure he would have had a cover story ready, since he went to all the trouble to bring a (tiny) tripod on a motorcycle.
Stay away from creachers!!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteYou don't have to tell me twice. Not even once! No way was I getting out of T-Hoe with that CREACHER prowling around.