- I had been given the key to the closed bakery. My task
was to install a new sub-floor and eventually a new tile floor on top of
it. My three boys, ages six, seven and eight, had accompanied me to "help
Dad" as they said.
-
- (I had cleverly disguised the fact I had to babysit them
by letting them think they were indeed going to play important roles in
the project.)
-
- After looking over the job, I decided to begin work behind
the main sales display case for several professional reasons. Little did
I imagine that my choice would lead to mutilation and butchery on a scale
that might leave even a slaughterhouse employee nauseous (or, perhaps reeling
with laughter).
-
- As anyone knows, bakery aromas are intoxicating...especially
so to my work crew...already full of curiosity that comes with their tender
years - and no doubt swallowing feverishly, mouths fairly dripping with
Pavlovian moisture.
-
- My men, almost instantly, gently, went around back of
the sales case, surveying and peeking under the corners of plastic coverings
of a score of big, flat pans, teeming with bakery treats. They had found
the mother lode of goodies from Nirvana itself.
-
- Squeals of excited discovery pierced the air... "Oh,
butter tarts!" shrieked Adam. "Look, muffins with ICING!"
Added Tyler. "A gingerbwead' man!" Exclaimed Brandon.
-
- Cruel taskmaster and father than I am, I decided to grab
the bull by the horns and ordered the boys to cover the treats back up,
and further informed them that they could have a treat AFTER we finished
our work. (Mrs. Card, the kind owner of Card's Bakery, had told me to take
whatever I fancied for the work crew...but I had strategically kept this
key bit of information to myself.)
-
- "We can have one!?!" asked Adam.
-
- "Yes, you can boys, but we need to get to work first."
-
- They immediately began clamoring for jobs to do - all
the while furtively studying a lone 'Mr. Bill'-looking gingerbread man
left uncovered on the corner of a display pan. As I delegated and assigned
them tasks, their attention to the humanoid cookie seemed to fade away.
Nevertheless, I decided to keep watch on the little golden brown fellow...just
in case.
-
- The carnage began slowly, stealthily. First, an eye went
missing. Then, a few minutes later, the second eye had vanished. It was
so subtle, I found myself wondering if they were ever there in the first
place.
-
- However, the next time I glanced over, 'Mr. Bill' was
headless.
-
- Of course, it wasn't long before an arm and then a leg
were removed from the stricken torso. I said nothing. I wanted to see just
how the lads were managing to eat the helpless little gingerbread man while
I was being at least somewhat vigilant.
-
- Despite my increased surveillance, the remainder of the
little baked fellow vanished...with nothing but a few golden crumbs left
behind in the corner of the pan.
-
- Then, a few minutes later, it happened: a miracle...a
divine healing.... the fourth Secret of Fatima - the gingerbread man was
made whole! (Actually, upon closer inspection, the crew had craftily managed
to slide a second prospective victim from further beneath the plastic covering
out into the corner of the pan...)
-
- However, in spite of my increased efforts, I still could
not figure out how the men were managing to dismember - and then consume
- the body parts undetected.
-
- This was going to take more work than I had bargained
for. Even though I was down on the floor, working diligently, I decided
to ratchet up my surveillance and watch them much more closely...after
all, matching wits with a 6, 7, and 8-year-old...how hard could that be?
-
- An hour ground by and despite the floor work getting
done, and me keeping a VERY close watch on the boys, gingerbread men kept
disappearing...one after another. Each time the corner of the pan would
show vacant, a replacement would materialize in its place a minute or two
later. Try as I might, I was not able to actually catch the thieves in
the act.
-
- I decided to try the deductive reasoning of Sherlock
Holmes.
-
- For a 6 year old, Brandon had been showing an inordinate
amount of interest in the installation of plywood. Hmm. Finally, the pieces
began to fall into place.
-
- As it turned out, the men were working like the Borg
Collective of Star Trek fame. Adam and Tyler would ask Brandon to engage
me with questions while they swept the floor directly next to the large
gingerbread men tray. Somehow I had failed to notice they had pretty much
been sweeping that same spot for almost two hours now - both of them holding
the broom together.
-
- Brandon performed his task masterfully by keeping me
busy...as his brothers deftly dissected the gingerbread men, limb by limb.
They would then actually hide the pilfered body parts in a predetermined
location - two steps down into the basement on the way to the washroom.
-
- The cat finally made a total escape from the bag when
I noticed that Brandon had asked to go to the washroom three times in ten
minutes. After his last request, I waited several seconds and then walked
briskly to the top of the steps.
-
- His brothers were paralyzed with fear...instantly realizing
the jig was up...and were even too petrified to shout a warning to their
younger colleague.
-
- When I reached the top of the stairs and peered down
in front of me, I found Brandon, sitting on the second step with his back
to me...nibbling furtively on a little golden brown elbow. He never heard
me coming.
-
- In a gruff and most authoritative voice I said, "What,
are you...eating?"
-
- Brandon's body jumped as though he had just received
an electric shock, (or as if Mr. Bill had bitten him back). He rose, almost
straight up off the stair, as gingerbread body parts sprayed up and out
of his lap and then scattered down the stairs below. Without a word, he
scurried past me to the hoped-for security of his two brothers. I then
turned to face all three...
-
- "All I want to know is who ate the first eye?"
-
- Tyler and Adam looked at Brandon (who resembled a chipmunk
with bulging cheeks). Brandon looked down at the floor.
-
- "I guess that answers that question," I said.
"Now, who ate the second eye?"
-
- Brandon and Tyler looked at Adam. Adam's stare also shifted
to the floor.
-
- "Okay, that answers that question. Who ate the head?"
-
- Brandon and Adam looked at Tyler.
-
- As I proceeded to list the missing anatomy parts of the
gingerbread men, my questions continued to be answered in pantomime...only
looks from the guilty - either at each other, or downward, studying their
shoes.
-
- "Okay, who ate the head of the second gingerbread
man?"
-
- The boys glanced at each other trying to remember. Brandon
sputtered his answer, complete with a fine spray of gingerbread crumbs,
"We can't wemember' that faw' back, Dad."
-
- I was trying quite hard to keep a stern look. "Well,
how many gingerbread men did you eat all together?"
-
- The boys fell silent, their stares all descending to
the floor in concert this time.
-
- Then Brandon mustered up the courage for a full and complete
confession and said:
-
- "I think we ate a whole army Dad."
-
- -- James Neff Webmaster - http://www.rense.com Digital
Illustration Webmaster@rense.com
-
- Advertising at Rense.com http://www.rense.com/adv.htm
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