Thursday, November 02, 2006

Yardwork

True, the grass hadn't been cut in awhile. In fact, Lenny didn't even own a mower but that wasn't the only reason for the unkempt appearance of the yard. Simply owning a mower wouldn't account for the overturned trash can spewing the yellowing newspapers across the mossy brickwork. Nor would it account for the swarm of flies gathered on and buzzing about the rust coloured blob lying next to the trash can. DNA testing would later reveal the blob was indeed of human extraction and that although it bore little resemblance to the familiar dreadlocked framed face of Lenny Burwood, it was one and the same. Clearly Lenny had undergone quite a transformation, and may I say not a pleasant one, since he and I had had our rather heated exchange in the parking lot of the nearby Quality Foods.

Lenny and I had 'run into each other' in the truest sense of the word. I had been parking my vehicle, a rusted Dodge Dart, at the exact second that Lenny, intent on his avoidance of capture by the local police, had careened around the corner. His stolen car plowed into the side of the Dart, passenger side to be precise, and came close to pushing his bumper clear through the cab to where I sat in the driver's seat. I suffered significant injuries that made it difficult for me to carry out the actions required as a result of the collision.

May the court records show, that after discharge from emergency later that evening, I was able to slowly make my way to the local Walmart where I purchased the handsaw, hatchet and firearms that you see on the exhibit table in the front of the courtroom. From there I had to make the rather torturous journey to the local jail and once inside convince the officer on duty that I needed a little time alone with Lenny as we had a great deal of important detail to cover. The officer looked skeptical but the firearm convinced him that I had a valid point and led me down the corridor to where Lenny was reclining on the county's finest furniture. As the officer pulled his key ring from his belt I thanked him with a well placed tap to the base of his skull and then proceeded to unlock Lenny's cell.

Once we got a few technicalities sorted out, it didn't take long for Lenny and I to arrive at his house. Even though the 'borrowed' Lexus was unfamiliar for Lenny to drive, he did an admirable job considering that I had shot him through his left elbow to get his full attention. He had some difficulty in unlocking his door and the overpowering smell of weed from his grow-op wafted out past his trembling frame. I asked if I might enter his house but Lenny didn't seem capable of replying and instead collapsed into his kitchen bleeding profusely from the large gaping wound in his neck corrosponding to the hatchet blade in the zip-locked bag I am holding. If you were to look closely at the x-rays that have been provided you can clearly see the rough indents on the vertabrae from the blade. The finer abrasions are from the handsaw, which didn't cut as cleanly as I had hoped.

After only partial dismemberment of his upper torso the pain from my broken pelvis overtook me and I passed out. According to the pathologist's report it was several hours later that I resumed working on Lenny's head. I have to admit that plastic surgery isn't my calling and the final product didn't do justice to Lenny in his heyday although I think that until the neighbourhood dogs got ahold of it, Lenny would have won the best jack o' lantern on the block contest had there been one. The small votive candle placed in his hollowed out head lent an eerie glow through his tartered teeth and although I repeatedly washed off the blood there remained a rather reddish hue to his severed neck.

To complete the scene I placed a medium sized pumpkin on his neatly seated body with the face carved into a macabre sneer typical of Lenny in his better days. Thinking that having him seated on his garden bench near the back door wouldn't seem out of place I further accessorized him with a hedge trimmer in his left hand and a glass of lemonade supported by a small glass table in his right. He looked as though he had just taken a short break from his yard work duties and didn't want to relinquish either the trimmer or the glass.

Testimony reveals that his neighbour Charlie, first thought it very odd that Lenny owned a hedge trimmer and then even odder that he was in the act of using it. Certainly nothing in Lenny's yard suggested that he had ever engaged in such activity and when questioned Charlie couldn't recall a single previous incidence of yardwork. Lenny was less than an approachable individual and that explains why Charley waited until much later in the afternoon when his wife Mabel returned from an exhausting day at the 'Super Sunday Swap Meet'. Emboldened by her at his side, Charlie started into the yard only to have Mabel begin to violently begin to retch at the sight of the 'jack o' lantern' swarming with flies. It was as I earlier said, unfortunate that the local dogs had done Lenny such a diservice and detracted from the overall effect that I was trying for. Mablel simply couldn't tie reality to the artistic impression I had tried to create.

What had originally begun as simple rage and morphed into revenge began to take on a strange twist once I told Lenny why he and I needed to go for a ride in the Lexus. I felt that I owed Lenny an explanation as to why I was going to cut short his stay here at Hotel Earth. Sadly, it wasn't in Lenny's character to accept responsibility for any of his actions and he had difficulty in connecting cause and effect. He couldn't see why his actions of the afternoon would be associated with the cold white hate that I directed towards him.

After all, when your all jacked up, its hard to see. Hard to see the car in front, hard to see the small white face, hard to see the little girl's body crushed in the passenger's seat.

Hard to see why I did what I did.

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