Balderdash

I’m not kidding you, for about twenty seconds I thought I was looking at a giant snail, and I mean a really giant snail, just the soft, slimy part without the shell, maybe six feet tall and walking upright –or creeping– like a man.

I saw the thing come slowly through the hedgerow at the back of the lawn. I was in my workshop in the garage, monkeying around with one thing or another. It was just after midnight and I was about ready to call it a night.

I had a big window right above my work bench that looked down the long slope of my backyard to the flower beds, the hedgerows, and the garden plots beyond. I saw a brief flash of reflected light when the giant snail first slipped through the bushes and out of the complete darkness.

I think there was a little bit of a moon that night, and I watched as the thing moved slowly along the edge of my yard in the dark shadows. I might have shook my head. I must have. The whole idea seemed alternately crazy and terrifying, but I would have sworn there was a giant snail sneaking towards my house.

I was so transfixed by this spectacle that I was taken completely by surprise when the motion light above the kitchen window popped on and revealed a stark naked Ted Hickock –pink, heaving, and glistening with sweat– standing in the middle of my backyard.

At one time Hickock had been my insurance agent. He was paralyzed for an instant when the backyard was flooded with light, and then he clumsily straddled my fence, plunged over, and trundled off into the darkness.

To this day I can’t explain why I never mentioned this disturbing incident to another soul, let alone called Hickock on it. I guess it seemed like such an awkward situation all around, and, frankly, I felt embarrassed for the man. Hell, this is a small town, and something like that could ruin a fellow’s reputation.