Pink Flamingoed (21 page)

“I thought of that, too, but after Harry went to bed
last night, I was looking around on the computer desk and guess what I saw.”

“What?” Cora asked, as she inched toward her friend
with growing interest.

“I found out that Harry’s got two e-mail addresses.”

“Ethel, having two e-mail addresses is not illegal.
There’s a lot of difference between that and having two wives, or a wife and a
girlfriend. Lots of people have two e-mail addresses,” Cora said, a little
disappointed that she had not heard something juicier.

“Maybe so, but lots of people don’t use the name
‘handsome’ on their secret one.”

“Harry calls himself ‘handsome?’ Well, they say that
the biggest liars are on the Internet. I wouldn’t worry about it, Ethel. I’m
sure Harry has a logical reason for doing this.”

“Do you really think so, Cora? Remember, the woman on
the phone called him handsome.”

“Well, I mean Harry has a reason that sounds logical
to him.”

Both women laughed and Cora continued talking to Ethel
until she felt that Ethel was no longer worried about Harry.

+++

Harry woke up, saw that Ethel was not in bed next to
him, and hollered for her. There was no answer, so he got out of bed and
searched the house. When he saw that Ethel was nowhere to be found, he figured
she had gotten up early and was either working in the garden or talking to one
of their neighbors.

Suddenly, Harry remembered the events of the night
before.  He looked out the window and saw that the pink flamingo was exactly as
Ethel had left it. Then, Harry remembered the phone calls from the night
before.

What if someone’s  kidnapped Ethel?
 

Then Harry remembered his money. He frantically
searched for the phone number for the bank, found it, and picked up the phone.
Five minutes later, Harry was relieved to find out that his account had exactly
the amount of money he remembered was in it, and the bank assured Harry that
his money was safe. Then he hung up the phone and waited to see if Ethel
returned or if he would receive a phone call demanding a ransom.

+++

A little after nine o’clock Allison wheeled out on her
front porch and saw the flamingo. She laughed, and even felt a little special
knowing that someone thought enough of her to make her the first recipient.
Allison could not wait to tell Chuck about it. Also, she could not wait until
dark, because Allison knew who was going to receive a pink flamingo present.
Allison left the flamingo in her yard all day. Before noon, everyone knew the whereabouts of the plastic pink yard ornament.

+++

Ethel did her best to try to talk Harry out of spending
the night on the porch, but to no avail. Harry’s insistence on sleeping on the
front porch made Ethel think back to the night before.
He says it’s so no
one will leave that monstrosity in our yard, but I wonder if it’s really that
he doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed with me anymore, because he has
another woman. What if he’s doing this so he can sneak out in the middle of the
night to meet her? I don’t know what I’d do if I caught him kissing someone
else.

Ethel worried so much that she almost called Cora, but
refrained from doing so. Anyway, Ethel knew what Cora would tell her if she
called. Maybe Cora was right. Maybe no other woman would want Harry.

+++

“Aiiiiiiiiiii! Aiiiiiiiiiii! Aiiiiiiiiiii!”

The blood-curdling screams woke Ethel. She could tell
the screams were coming from the front porch. Immediately, Ethel thought of the
woman she thought Harry was seeing and that woman’s husband. Had one of them
come to kill Harry?

Ethel threw on her housecoat, ran to the front door,
unlocked it, and looked at the screaming, frightened man who lay in front of
her  holding  a  pink  flamingo in the crook of his arm. She turned away so
Harry would not see the smile on her face. Ethel wondered if Harry still felt
that Allison was helpless, but knew it was not the time to ask.

By the time Ethel had dressed, everyone on the street
had heard Harry’s screams and knew that the bird had changed residences. Amy
ran back home to get her camera and managed to snap a couple of photographs
before Harry noticed what she was doing. She had already sold six 11x14s before
she took the film to have it processed. Ethel secretly bought two copies, one
for herself and one to send to Rachel.

Depressed Harry failed to check his e-mail the entire
day. If he had checked it, he would have read one inquiring about his new pet
and asking him if he had named it yet and another one that was supposed to have
come from Acme Warehouse offering him a job as their night watchman.

+++

Allison received as many phone calls as Harry received
e-mails. Everyone called to congratulate her on her successful mission behind
enemy lines.

“Alli, this is Amy. Your line has been busy for an
hour.”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone has called to get the details
on my conquest of Harry.”

“Now, it’s my turn. Tell me all about it.”

“Well, I had planned on taking the pink guy to the
Armbruster kids, but when I saw Harry asleep on his front porch, I couldn’t
resist.”

“My, you’re a brave one. So, tell me more.”

“I took my motorized chair, since I knew there was no
way I could push the chair with two hands and hold on to the bird. So, after I
spotted Sir Snoralot, I zipped across the street and up the ramp Harry provided
for just such an occasion.”

“Did you have any trouble getting your chair over to
where Harry was?”

“No, the porch is wide enough. Anyway, I eased over to
Harry, repositioned his arm so he could hold on to the little guy, stuck it in
the crook of his arm, leaned over and kissed him on his bald head, and took
off.”

“You didn’t?”

“I sure did.”

“Have you told Chuck yet?”

“I called him the first thing this morning. He was so
proud of me.”

“Yeah, but what about poor Harry? He’ll probably have
to start seeing a psychiatrist.”

“You mean he isn’t seeing one already.”

“Are you kidding? Harry doesn’t see anyone he can’t
see for free. Well, I guess I’d better go so Miss Popular can be free to
receive her next phone call.”

“I guess you’d better. CNN did say they’d call back.”

+++

While no one but Ethel dared to speak to Harry that
day, Harry knew that all of them were secretly celebrating the fact that
Allison had gotten the best of him and that he would soon be out twenty
dollars. Along about the middle of the afternoon, Harry came up with a plan, a
plan to get revenge on the whole neighborhood.

Brad walked out on to his front porch. As he stood
enjoying the nice weather, he looked up and saw Barney heading from his house.
Brad could not remember the last time he saw a pair of pencil-thin white legs.
He was sure he had seen them, but this was the first time he had seen a
pale-legged older man wearing a pair of red socks. With his red shorts, white
legs, and red socks, Barney resembled a peppermint stick. His red-and-white
striped shirt made him more obvious.

Brad sat down on his porch swing and continued to
watch. Barney hopped into his candy apple red 1949 Buick convertible, backed
out of his driveway, and pulled up in front of Bertha’s house. Bertha must have
known Barney was coming, because she opened the door and rushed to meet him.
Bertha was so quick that Barney barely had time to open his door and get around
to her side of the car in time to open the door for her.

Brad smiled as he thought of the sexagenarian twosome.
Upon reaching the car, Bertha had probably called Barney Sweet Pea and more than
likely he responded with another affectionate term, possibly Lotus Blossom or
Sweet Petunia.

Barney drove toward the park. The car was almost going
fast enough for the wind to mess with Bertha’s hair. Almost, but not quite.
Barney drove into the park entrance. In a few minutes, his car exited the park
and trudged up the street. An incredulous look crossed Brad’s face when the car
continued up the street, stopped at the corner, and turned. Seldom did Barney
leave Aylesford Place.

Brad smiled. He wondered where Barney and Bertha had
gone. Not wanting to arouse false hopes, Brad vowed to keep his discovery a
secret. Neighbors would suspect that the romantic duo had eloped or gone to get
a marriage license. Somehow, Brad did not think that even Barney would elope in
that
getup.

Brad decided to call Amy, anyway.

“Hey, guess who just left the street?”

“Did Harry move out? Was getting the pink flamingo too
much for him?”

“No, nothing like that. Guess again.”

“I don’t know. Did the swallows return to Capistrano?”

“No, but the lovebirds have flown the coop.”

“You mean Barney and Bertha?”

“What a mixed-up society! I mention lovebirds and you
mention the only couple who isn’t married.”

“Not the only couple.”

“Well, the only couple who could’ve left the street.”

“Where do you think they went?”

“Who knows? Maybe they had doctors’ appointments.”

“Or, maybe....”

“Don’t say it.”

Brad and Amy continued to talk. Fifteen minutes later,
Barney and Bertha returned. Bertha was licking a chocolate ice cream cone.
Barney’s cone was strawberry.

+++

One set of lovebirds had returned to the street with
ice cream cones. Another twosome had used the first pair as an excuse to get
together for dinner.  Love was in the air, but vacant from Harry’s heart.

“I wish you’d let me go with you, Harry,” Ethel
pleaded to her husband.

“No, Ethel. This is definitely a one-man job.”

“Well, won’t you even tell me what you’re going to do
with the flamingo?”

“I’m afraid I can’t. This mission’s top secret.”

“And you won’t tell me what’s in that can you have in
your pocket?”

“Just something to help make my job a little easier.
Don’t worry about it, Ethel.”

“You’re not going to do anything rash, are you, Harry?
Remember, wherever you put it must be within the rules that Cora laid down.”

“I know. I know, Ethel. I’ve checked all of the
loopholes. I’m playing by the rules Cora set up.”

“Well, I’ll worry about you until you get home,
Harry.”

“Ethel, it’s not like I’m going on a trip across the
country. After all, I’m not even leaving the street. I’m even going to put it
in someone’s front yard, and Ethel, I’d better not catch you watching me to see
where I go.”

Harry picked up the flamingo and cradled it in one
arm, much like he did that same morning, only this time he was awake, upright,
and aware that he was holding the bird. He eased out the door and stood on the
front porch. There was not a light on anywhere. Harry had hoped for a cloudy
night, but the best he got was that it was a first-quarter moon instead of a
full one. He tiptoed down the steps, careful not to drop the flamingo. He did
not want to alert everyone that the villain was on the prowl. Harry looked both
ways, and when he felt safe that no one was up and about at that late hour, he
headed down the street.

The closer Harry got to his intended victim, the more
scared he became.  He felt like turning back, but if he turned back, he knew
that he would end up sleeping days and sitting on his porch all night until the
fund raiser ended. There was no way he wanted to do that. As Harry came to his
victim’s house, he reached into his pocket and removed a spray can. He took it
and sprayed the iron gate with lubricant, so it would not make any noise when
he opened it. After he was satisfied, he opened the gate and slid inside as
quickly and quietly as he could. The ominous house was dark. At this point,
Harry was not sure which scared him the most, a dark house or a lighted one. He
took the flamingo from the crook of his arm and stuck it into the ground. His
job was half finished. Now, all he had to do was get out of that place.

“He-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-he-hee....”

The cackle of the old witch scared Harry so much he
dropped the spray can. There was no way he was going to stop and pick it up,
even if it did cost him a couple of dollars. Harry turned and dashed for the
gate. As he reached it, he heard a noise that sounded like a gun firing, and
then felt something hit the back of his neck. Harry ran out of the gate. As he
did so, he raised his right hand to feel the back of his neck. It felt sticky. Slowing
down only slightly, Harry brought his hand around and looked at it in the dim
moonlight. He must have been bleeding quite badly, because his hand was all
sticky and red. Harry ran as fast as his old legs would allow him.

“Help! Ethel! Help!”

Ethel, who hovered near the door without looking out,
was close enough that she heard her husband’s cries and raced to his rescue.

As Harry neared the house, he hollered, “Help! Ethel!
I’ve been shot! Run across the street and get Doc.”

“Did that woman do it, Harry?”

“Yes, Ethel. Now go get Doc.”

“Harry, I knew when I found out that you were running
around with some other woman it would end like this.”

“Ethel, I don’t know what in tarnation you’re talking
about, but if you don’t hurry up and get Doc, I’ll be dead and someone else
will have to tell you about it.”

The word “dead” set Ethel in motion. She raced across
the street and started banging on Doc’s door. Harry’s yelling and Ethel’s
banging caused the rest of the neighborhood to wake up and rush to see what was
going on. Shortly after Doc arrived with his medical bag, the rest of the
neighborhood appeared on the scene.

“What happened, Harry?” Doc asked.

“She shot me, Doc.”

“Ethel shot you?”

“No, not Ethel.”

“Where are you shot, Harry?”

“Where do you think I’m shot, Doc? In the back of the
neck. Don’t you see all the blood?”

“Ethel, let’s get him in the house where there’s more
light. Brad, Scott, can you help me?”

The two men carried Harry into the house and Doc had
them lay Harry on his stomach on the sofa.

“Now, let me take a look at that wound, Harry.”

Doc bent over and looked at the back of Harry’s neck.
Then he touched the place where Harry had been shot and brought his hand up to
his eyes. Then, he smelled it. Doc bent over and looked at the wound again, and
then raised up.

“Well, Harry. It looks like you’re going to live.”

Ethel began to cry tears of joy and praised God that
her Harry was going to be all right. Even Cora was pleased to hear the news.

“How long do you think I’ll have to be in the
hospital, Doc?”

“I don’t think I’ll have to put you in the hospital,
Harry. As a matter of fact, other than a slight sting, and some slight pain
that goes with it, I think once we go into the bathroom and wash this paint off
of you, you’ll be fine.”

“Paint?”

“Yes, paint, Harry. Who shot you, anyway?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“I think I know who did it,” Brad said.

“Oh, I might as well tell,” Harry said. “I was tired
of all of you making fun of me because Allison put that blasted flamingo under
my arm while I was asleep, so I decided to get rid of it, but to get rid of it
within the rules that Cora gave us, so I wouldn’t be accused of not playing
fair. So, I put it in Wicked Witch Peabody’s yard.”

“And for his trouble, Harry was shot with a paintball
gun,” Brad chuckled.

“A paintball gun. What in tarnation is a paintball
gun?” Harry asked.

“It’s a gun that shoots capsules of paint. Young
people like to play games with them and shoot each other.”

“Well, whatever happened to cap pistols and Hopalong
Cassidy? Who in the world is their hero, Pablo Picasso? And where in the world
did a four-hundred-year-old woman get a paintball gun?”

“I don’t know, Harry. Why don’t you go back down the
street and ask her?”

“I’m beginning to see, now,” Cora added. “It was a
paintball gun that she used on those Mormon boys. That’s what got paint all
over them and scared them so much that there hasn’t been a Mormon in these
parts since.”

Allison said, “Yeah, I remember that. It was the only
time I’ve seen a Mormon in a tie-dyed button-down shirt.”

Once everyone found out Harry was all right and found
out what really happened to him, they started to laugh.

“Hey, Harry. Did I ever tell you that you’re my
favorite redneck?” Cora asked.

“Remember that quotation made famous by General
Peabody,” Barney added. “Don’t fire until you see the backs of their necks.”

“Hey, Cora,” Amy said. “Since Harry got shot trying to
place the flamingo,  doesn’t  that mean that not only does Harry have to pay
another twenty dollars, but that he has to go back and retrieve it and try
again tomorrow night?”

Everyone laughed, while Harry just lay there and
covered his head with a pillow.

“I think I’ve figured out something else,” Brad said.

“Oh, and what’s that, Mr. Holmes?” Amy asked.

“Who’s the most famous female artist?” Brad asked.

“I don’t know. Grandma Moses, I guess,” Amy replied.

“And who’s the most infamous e-mailer?” Brad asked.

“No, Brad. It couldn’t be,” Amy replied, as the rest
of the group raised their eyebrows.

Harry thought about how he had corresponded by e-mail with
“that woman” and then pounded his head with the pillow.

Scott smiled, even though he knew the jig was up.

+++

The next day all of Aylesford Place was abuzz as each
person wondered what that Peabody woman would do with the flamingo. Allison
offered to wheel by the Peabody house to see if she could see the bird, but she
passed by so fast that she could not tell if the pink object was still where
Harry left it. Brad offered to check next, and crept down and peered through
the gate, but he did not see anything except an object that whizzed past his
head. While no one knew what she had done with the flamingo, everyone felt
assured that it would not end up in any of their yards that night.

+++

The next morning, one by one the street’s residents
arose and went to see if he or she could spot a flamingo anywhere on the
street.

“What happens to our fund raiser if the old lady keeps
the flamingo?” Amy asked Cora.

“I have a backup plan, but we’ll wait a little longer
to see if it turns up.”

+++

The next day, Frank and Cora were sitting on their
front porch when a UPS truck pulled up in front of their house.

“Are you expecting anything, Frank?”

“No, are you?”

“No, wonder what it could be?”

Frank, calm, patient, and laid-back said, “We’ll know
soon enough, Cora.”

In a minute a man wearing brown shorts and a brown
shirt emerged from the truck and trotted up the steps with a package.

“I have a delivery for the Hendersons.”

“That’s us,” Cora said.

Cora reached out and took the small package from the
man, while Frank got up and went into the house to get a knife. While Frank was
gone, Cora studied the package, but saw no return address.