Chapter 3

As I rolled Azarias drown the drive I felt a renewed sensation of anxiety wash over me. My head turned from side to side as I scanned both lawn and ditch for my precious cargo. Not knowing which way to go I made an arbitrary left and followed the curb downhill, as it was the easiest direction to push. Frustration mounted as I passed first one house and then the next in my futile search. At one point I even stopped at a nearby storm drain and bent down to peer into the inky blackness to no avail.

The search continued until I had made my way down the length of the hill. Ahead of me lay a small bridge that spanned the neighborhood creek. Approaching, I saw with horror in my mind’s eye the possibility that the thief had dumped the cargo into the shallow water below. If that were the case, the soft current almost certainly would have washed away the remaining traces by now. I leaned over the rail and gazed into the mirrored reflection of the water below. Is this the end of my search, I wondered?

My thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of coughing coming from under the bridge. Curious, I rolled Azarias into a clump of nearby bushes and made my way gingerly down the slope of the embankment. Standing at the water’s edge, I glanced cautiously back up the line I had descended making note of my path, then turned and looked into the darkness beneath the bridge.

“Is there anyone in there?” I asked, cautiously. My echo was greeted with silence. “Hello?” I said again more firmly. Still, if anyone was there they were not going to reveal their secrets easily. “Look, I know someone is down here. I heard you just now coughing.” The stretched out silences were perturbing. “God damn it, I want someone to answer me!” I shouted the frustration of the morning beginning to spill in fury.

“’God damn it’ you say? ‘You want’ you say? That is a fine way to call someone.”

I turned. Not three feet away from me was a man dressed in dirty brown clothes. Startled, I said “What did you say to me?”

“No matter” said the man, pushing past me with my wheelbarrow in hand.

“Wait, where did you get that?”

“Some fool pushed it into the bushes. It’s mine now.”

“No” I said matter-of-factly “it is not. It’s mine, and I will have it back.”

The old man turned and looked at me “You have some kind of fire in your belly to be shouting curses and telling strangers what’s yours and what’s theirs.”

“And you” I looked for some clever retort “have no business taking what isn’t yours.”

He looked at me rather pitifully, then shrugged his shoulders and dropped the wheelbarrow where it lay before walking into the darkness beneath the bridge. Stunned, I watched him take several steps before I realized that this man was a potential witness to my crime, and needed to be questioned further. “Hey, wait!” I shouted. “I want to ask you something!”

“Suit yourself” came the voice from the dark.

Numbly I walked forward, pausing momentarily at the line between light and shadow before passing under the bridge. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim. The old man was sitting on a small ledge of concrete busily piling small branches and twigs.

"I need to ask you a question." No response. "Look if you help me there could be a reward involved." Again, no response. I glanced uncomfortable at my feet only to realize I still had my house shoes on. "You see, I've lost something. Actually, it was stolen."

From somewhere in his pockets the man produced a small lighter. He bent over the pile of wood and attempted to light a small fire. The flint made a shower of sparks but produced no flame. Several quick successions of strikes produced the same result. "Impotent" the tramp said.

"I could help you" I offered producing a matchbook from my pocket. "But I need some information. You see someone has stolen my fertilizer."

Faster than lightning the man hopped up. "What did you say?"

"I said someone has stolen something from me, and I will help you..."

"Not that" he said eyeing me suspiciously "After. Did you say fertilizer?"

"I did."

At this the old man seems to go insane. He began to hop about muttering the most indecent obscenities I have ever heard. "And you, you little slut, think you can march in here and make accusations of me? Of me! How dare you come into my home and try to steal from me!"

"I don't think you understand" I stammered, I am not stealing from you, I was stolen from. I am the victim here."

"You? A victim? Don't make me laugh" he barked. "It is obvious you are here to steal my bucket." he pointed to a small tin pail by the side of the stream.

I knew immediately that I had made a mistake venturing to talk to this man. Clearly he was not playing with a full deck. Any minute now, I imagined, he would be upon me and I would have to defend myself. "Don't be absurd." I said, backing away. What have you got there? Nothing of value I bet. Probably just a bucket of fish heads."

There is absolutely no way to describe to you how stunned I was at his responce.

Who told you!" he raged advancing towards me with eyes blazing. "Who have you been talking to? That is my precious fertilizer. Mine! And no one can have it. Do you understand?"

I mean, how does someone guess someting like that? Your standing under a bridge talking with a crazy person and they say "what have I go in my bucket" what is the right anwer here? Your marbles?

I cursed my luck as I looked at him. "You can't be serious" I said bending down and picking up the closet rock I could find. "If that is fertilizer then I am a monkey's uncle."

Picking up the stone was poorly timed. My gesture of self defense was undoubtedly interpreted as one of attack. With a howl he launched himself at me. Instinctively I flinched and hurled the rock. Missing him the rock skidded across the pavement and into the bucket, knocking it into the water. The splash seemed to freeze time all around us. Then, a small bubble of fish entrails rose momentarily to the surface before being washed away by the current.

Turning on his heel the man seemed to forget about me and desperately chased after the the pale floating upside down in the creek. Without a moment’s hesitation I used this distraction to turn, and with one deft motion slammed into my wheelbarrow and used this motion to propel both I and it up the hill.

"No!" came the howl from below. Then all was silent.