The driveway was smashed up. Stones were thrown across the street. Someone with a big truck had deliberately driven into it creating deep grooves. I walked over to my neighbour. Had he seen anything. Yes, he had heard the noise. It was a white truck. He told me that a white truck had been parked outside his house for half an hour. He described the driver.
It was him.
He had been sitting there waiting for me to leave parked between a bunch of cars. Living with this was wearing me down. I spoke with a dear friend. "Most people I know would be a gibbering idiot by now," he said. I phoned the RCMP. The tiny officer came. "We are building a case," he said. "We need hard evidence." He advised me to buy a security camera. I decided not to fix the drive. What would be the point? Let him admire his handiwork.
I realized a line of solar lights had been cut. My. I found what had made the smashing noise. He had smashed a chair. It had been placed carefully in little pieces far to the back of the property. I hadn't realized that before - I could have told the police. That was my last call to them.
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| Growing Again |
Time passed. I fixed the driveway. The rails eventually stopped being moved in the front. A big black dog came as a most welcome visitor and stayed for the summer. He had a great bark. Things seemed to settle down. Until this. The slain plants. I keep hoping he will leave but I still see his ads from time to time.
The plants are growing again. I just ordered my annual load of wood for less than half of what he wanted for his. Needless to say I won't be dropping by the Kingdom Hall Of Jehovah Witness's to say hello. We can all live happily ever after. Hopefully.