The first inkling I had that something was up was when Dinah’s was out of bumble-berry pie. It don’t seem like much, but nobody in Clyville eats bumble-berry pie but me, and there’s always a pie made when I come in after work.
Dinah said I’d eaten the entire thing that afternoon with a half dozen cups of coffee. Thing is, I was stacking pallets at the warehouse until seven pm without a break, so I know it weren’t me what ate the pie.
I had to settle for cherry. It was ok, I guess.
On Tuesday I went to pickup my truck from Lou’s. He’d put a new water pump in it, and said it would be ready anytime after lunch. I got there at three, and Lou says “How’s she running?” I’m a little confused, and I ask him “You tell me, is she ready to go?”
Lou just stands there, slack jawed and says “You picked it up two hours ago, aren’t you back to pay for that pump?”
Somebody picked up my truck, stole it, and had the balls to leave me to pay the bill. Lou was beside himself. He figured I was pulling his leg at first, and he got mad for a bit and then just got all quiet. I paid him. Wasn’t his fault, and he did fix the truck like he said he would.
Now I’ve got no pie, and no truck. The week’s not looking good at all.
On Thursday, I show up for work only to be sent home. I’d apparently worked eight hours on the night shift, and they’ve got safety rules that say I’ve got to sleep for eight hours before I can work again. I’m not sure what the hell’s going on by now, but at least the bastard that stole my truck’s starting to pull his own weight.
On Saturday, I wake up to the cold blade of an axe against my throat. Blinking against the morning light, there’s something familiar about the silhouette at the other end of the handle.
“You’ve got a nice life here in Clyville,” the voice rings a bell, “too bad you can’t stay and enjoy it.”
He couldn’t kill me, I understand that now. After all, he’s me.
No matter, I’ve put that behind me and I’ll stay here in Strewson for as long as I can. I expect he’ll get bored and come find me again. When he does, I’ll move on, but until then, can you cut me another slice of that bumble-berry pie? And top up my coffee? It really is delicious.