I walked to the top of Barton Road and stood at the edge of Route 123. Held a set of yellow booster cables in the air, dangling the red and black ends.
Salvation. Red to red, black to ground. I hit the gas and my car started right away.
Monday morning was clear and bright. I drove all the way into the village singing a song whose only lyrics were the words “beautiful day” repeated over and over.
My first stop was DiCarlo’s. I bought a sign that says “Beware Of Dog.” Deterrence, until I can get one of those signs that says “This House Guarded By Shotgun Three Nights A Week You Guess Which Three Nights.”
The proprietor of DiCarlo’s is quite the joker. When I was picking out the sign, he came up behind me and said, “We had a sign like that, that we sold out of.”
He leaned over with a smirk on his face. “It said ‘Beware Of Women.'”
All I could say to that was “Wuh?” I wasn’t inclined to agree, especially since it had been a woman who had stopped to boost my car that morning–after a couple of big strong men had sped by in their pickup trucks, gawking at me.
DiCarlo’s is kind of sketchy but I was pleased to see that they sell guitar strings and other music supplies. I just might have to return sometime.
I filled up on gas in the village, bought a hundred bucks worth of groceries and returned to the house feeling like I was ready for anything.
First thing I did, I caught me a squirrel. I used the orange cake tray. Rubbed a bunch of peanut butter on it, got nice and close to Paulie when he was perched up on a windowsill, nice and close, nice and patient… popped the lid over him, slid the plate in underneath and next thing you know, I was taking him for a nice little walk up Barton Road.
Back at the house, I uploaded that video that I linked a couple days ago. A day of victory. I went back to watching The Shining, which took me about three sittings to get through because it is so slow and long and not even all that scary, really.
Mostly I was interested in The Shining because of Shelley Duvall. I’d forgotten she was in this movie. When her face appeared on the screen, honestly, my first reaction was “What a freak of nature.”
My second reaction was, “LUST.”
Big eyes, big ears, big lips, big teeth, jesus… Tall and slender, with black hair, I love that… For part of the movie, she’s rockin’ the two braids on either side of her head, which is totally sexy on pretty much everyone except Matt Mays (no offence, Matt). I don’t know what it is, but wowee, something seems to work for me.
So I was watching Shelley Duvall about to get hacked to pieces with an axe when I heard Vickers rummaging around in the pantry. I heard some paper shifting around, a small clink of silverware.
Silverware? Vickers knows he’s not supposed to be up on the countertop.
I went to the pantry and opened the door and there was Paulie the squirrel. He was sitting on the edge of the counter, staring at me.
I said, “You bastard.”
Paulie jumped off the counter and ran under the table behind a bunch of boxes.
I went back in the parlour and resumed watching the movie. I was going to relax and finish my movie, and then I was going to find an axe of my own and find Paulie and split open his little rodent skull with it.
During the film’s thrilling climax, Paulie came out of the pantry and stood in the door of the parlour and wiggled his nose at me. He stood and watched me watching the movie. At this point I realized something–it wasn’t Paulie. This squirrel was lighter in colour and had a shorter, fatter tail.
So mentally I named him Sal (another Godfather reference). After a moment, Sal dashed up the stairs. I paused the movie and ran upstairs after him.
He ran into a bedroom and I closed the door behind him. Then I opened the door and dropped the cat in the room. The squirrel freaked out. Vickers didn’t care. He really doesn’t give a damn about squirrels at all.
Here’s a picture of Vickers watching this squirrel going nuts. Vickers might as well have been watching a rerun of some boring ’80s TV show.
This particular squirrel wasn’t as cool and collected as Paulie. He ran straight up the wall and leaped. He flew over my head, eight feet in the air. He ran around all four sides of the window frame. He was panicking–not thinking straight. I caught him pretty easily in my cake tray.
I was superstitious after reading that squirrels wouldn’t cross a river, so I took him for a drive up past Three Bridges and let him out on the far side of the bridge.
When the squirrel was in the closet, I’d started hauling boxes out so he’d have less place to hide. The trick is to get him out of the closet and onto the windowsill. After I came home I started rooting through some of those boxes.
I found an old box of Pot Of Gold chocolates. I could tell by the weight of the box that something interesting was inside. I enjoyed the moment of wondering what it would be. Then I removed the lid. Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you what I found, but it rhymes with “unregistered handbun.”
I know there is a third squirrel in the house. I’ve heard it chirping down in the basement. I found the place where the squirrels have been coming upstairs–in the corner of the pantry, a crack in the floor where the stove pipe passes through. I tried plugging the crack but I have a feeling my efforts won’t make much difference.
Anyway, if that other squirrel ever shows his cute little face upstairs, I’m just gonna bash his brains in and be done with it.