Article courtesy of Karina Barajas of Creative Writing Club
“I swear to heavens! How many times do I have to ask you kids to get off my lawn?”
“Ms. Fitzgerald, calm down! I was only trying to ask you questions. Legit questions.” Junior Detective Fendson yelped trying to dodge the cane coming toward him.
“Okay, if you want to know what happened, I’ll tell you the truth and nothing but the truth.”
“Can we go in and sit down, ma’am?” asked Detective Fredrickson.
“What’s wrong with standing out here on the porch, boy? If my weak old legs can do it, then you young men can stand!”
Both detectives proceeded to sit down on the grass anyway. Ms. Fitzgerald proceeded to tell them that she witnessed, with her very own eyes, Phell sauntering down the road. He got electrocuted by her lawn security.
“Why do you have lawn security?” inquired Detective Fredrickson.
“Because I despise children, and it’s the only way to keep them from causing shenanigans on my lawn. It keeps out the little critters, too, from chewing on my topiaries!”
“Ma’am, is that even legal?” asked Detective Fendson.
“Young man, you should know I have been a cop for thirty-five years. I think the law is in my favor.”
The detectives exchanged glances. “What happened next?” asked Detective Fredrickson.
“I remember he was slurring and walking funny as if he was high on something. I don’t know what, but he definitely looked a shade of green.”“Ah ha! That’s most likely because he drank rat poison!” yelled Detective Fendson.
Ms. Fitzgerald and Detective Fredrickson exchanged quizzical glances. Ms. Fitzgerald prepared to swing her cane at poor Detective Fendson before Detective Fredrickson came to the rescue.
“Well, we don’t really know for sure it was rat poison, but based on the evidence it’s still a viable possibility,” he quickly covered.
“As I was saying, this strange man ambled onto the road and got hit by an ice cream truck. The strange thing was, when the car passed, I could not see his body. I think he was carried off with the car.”
“Were you able to get the license plate, ma’am?”
“I’m afraid not, the truck was going too fast. It almost swiveled out of control. Those young whippersnappers don’t know how to drive around here!”
“Can you show us the spot where you witnessed Phell being dragged away by the vehicle?”
“Oh, alright. Just let me get me wheel chair.”
The unlikely trio walked to the middle of the road. Mrs. Fitzgerald pointed to the intersection. The detectives searched for any signs of a man being dragged off, but they couldn’t find any evidence of blood or questionable stains.
“You wouldn’t happen to know the driver of this ice cream truck?” Detective Fendson joked.
“Yes, I do. His name is Bob. No one knows his real name. He looks like a Bob. He is the only driver of this ice cream truck. It’s called Licks on Lock Lane,” Ms. Fitzgerald stated with conviction.
Detective Fredrickson took notes. “Nice work, Mr. Fendson. Ma’am, do you know where Bob lives by any chance?”
“Okay, you don’t have to call me ma’am all the darn time! Bob is my neighbor, actually. Well, his mother is my neighbor, but Bob still lives with her. She is running errands right now, but the boy should be home soon.”
“Well, thank you for your time M-Ms. Fitzgerald.”
“Finally, this is over! Now scram!”
The detectives bolted from the house as fast as they could, fearing they would be electrocuted next. When they were a good proximity away, they decided to review their notes.
“Let’s see here,” said Detective Fredrickson. The lucky guy, Phell, supposedly drank rat poison, got electrocuted, and got dragged by a car. Something’s not adding up. How can one man be so unlucky?”
“Well, that woman was a little off her rocker. Did you see how she kept aiming for my head with her cane? Maybe we will have better luck with this Bob character.”
The two detectives knocked on the door.
“What do you want?” a teenage boy’s voice answered.
“Are you Bob?”
“Y-yes”
“Well, Bob, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
