The Resident Nut Job

It was cool and overcast when I gazed out the window at the day. I thought it had warmed up, you know, turned the corner into spring last week when the last of the fire wood was burned away. But no, winter made a come back and here we are with cold, wet, overcast days once more.

I was cold and there were two pieces of wood left to burn. Two, yes count them. One, two.

I called up the new, cute fire wood guy and he said Saturday.

"Really?" I asked. "Couldn't you do it before then?" We've been buying wood from the servo the last couple of days, and it doesn't take long for those purchases to add up to half of what we'd pay for a huge delivery.

"Oh, well, maybe Friday, see how I go. But we are really busy."

"Oh, Friday? I'm home every day and I could fit in with any delivery time you wanted. I've just run out, I didn't realise it had got so low." Mark and Luke will be down Wednesday, we're off to the symphony and I have to have wood for them, as they always complain how cold my house is. Truthfully, they have their own forest and they over heat like crazy.

"Oh... um... actually, in that case, how about today, in an hour."

"That would be fantastic."

The resident nut job was calling out about “too much pollution” in the world, again, as I stacked the first logs of the new supply of fire wood. Wow, that was quick, I thought, as I gazed across the next doors yard to see if I could see a face staring through a crack in the pailings. I don’t know where he is, but I suspect he is four doors down. I wonder if I should be worried about him? Crazy eyes and dribbling, is what I picture, possibly a tick. I wondered if those horrible murders that you read about in the newspapers start out like this. A shiver ran down my spine.

I imagined all sorts of things, from him appearing angrily at my garden gate confronting me in a deranged way, to setting the wood stack alight in the middle of the night as retribution.

I imagined all the things I could say to him if he appeared at the gate, all of which would work on a sane and rational man, none of which would probably work on a mental case.

I stacked the wood very quietly after that.

I was telling Anthony about him yesterday as we lit a fire with the last of the old wood. Anthony is my long lost mate reappeared who has had two periods of insanity in his life. He said not to engage him in conversation… and I guess Anthony would know.

Now I’m going to light a fire. I wonder if that will set him off in a frenzy of counting and twitches?