|
 Life
in a small town means everybody knows what’s going on, good or bad.
Just take what happened to Dud the other day.
It was trash day, and the trash barrels were on the street waiting
to be emptied into the weekly truck. Dudley Campbell was no
different from his neighbors, having his cans at the curbside ready
for a trip to the dump. His wife, Anita, had driven to the city to
do some shopping, so Dud was home alone.
And probably that’s why he felt secure in going through his own
garbage. First, he spread a tarp out on the ground next to the cans
and then dove in. He resembled a badger trying to dig up a squirrel
as he went lower and lower in the garbage can and the pile on the
tarp grew larger.
Mrs. Miller lived just across the street from Dud,
and was watching the whole operation. She made a horrified phone
call across town to Mamie Dilworth, who then passed it along to
Windy Wilson. Windy, she knew, was a man of action. [to top of second
column] |
He’d know what to do.
And he did. The bags of groceries were put on Dud’s porch when he
wasn’t looking. The used-but-clean clothing for both Dud and Anita
were laid on the porch swing.
Anita discovered them when she got home and was the one who informed
her husband of the porch treasure.
At supper that evening, Anita asked Dud if he’d done anything to
warrant this largesse. I mean, Anita had been clothes shopping all
day, so she knew it wasn’t her.
And Dud said, “Hon, the only thing I did differently today was to
find that little bronze horse statue I use for a paperweight. I had
accidentally tossed it in the trash.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles] |
