Willis is teaming with night time activity. I noticed it one night when I was sitting on my porch enjoying the silence that comes when all the neighbors have run out of gas for their golf carts and off road vehicles, and all the nightly fires have died to a smoldering fog. Shattering the smokey haze, like the otherworldly beam from some UFO, a single light emerges from my neighbor, Action Man's yard.
At first I could not believe my wondering eyes. I concentrated, squinted, and focused like a laser until I confirmed, this beacon of light, this ray of hope was coming from Action Man's flashlight. What could it mean? Isn't Monday Night Football on? Shouldn't he be getting ready for bed or something? Then it became clear. He was burying treasure in mason jars out in the yard. I instinctively looked to see where I keep my shovel just in case. NO! He's not burying money! He's....he's....He's doing work!!! At 12:32 AM!! Unable to contain his enthusiasm one more moment, he rushed outside to move sticks! Oh, but these are not ordinary sticks, they are limbs, left from the last storm that passed through. Awed, and a little bored I turned to go back to bed when suddenly I heard a whirr from across the street.
The whirr was actually the launch ignition to Part Time Man's Professional Baseball field mower. Part Time Man is an interesting fellow. Legend says that he purchased the house across the street three years ago for $9.95 and began renovating immediately. He hasn't been seen since. Some believe he lives in seclusion in the basement, contemplating on whether a planer or one of his many wood chisels will turn into a magic beanstalk and help him get stared on the repairs that are needed. Others believe he died when the local Pizza Mart stopped delivering. I know the truth, Part Time Man is the midnight lawn mowing fairy that comes out every three weeks to hack through the tall grass before the Velociraptors start breeding. Now I am mad! I mean really! What kind of person mows the lawn at 1 AM in total darkness. You see, Part Time Man, paid $7,000 to bring this Professional Baseball field mower home from Old Tiger Stadium, but he didn't realize it had no headlights. So he is innovating like many great Americans, using his imagination and pretending he can see where he is going. It was working pretty well too until he ran over his 1987 Ford Ranger with this beast. I guess I can understand the mistake though, there was grass growing on the hood of that car!
I think the grind-whirr sound of the Ford Ranger being devoured reminded me how tired I was getting, when suddenly I got a free eye exam, followed by the feeling that a massive heart attack was coming from the sudden and unexpected shout,
"HEY"!!!!!
Blinded, heart racing, I realized my shovel was still on the porch out of reach. Desperate, I ask in a sheepish tone, "Hey Wha-wha-what"?
"I noticed someone sneaking through your yard, do you want me to investigate"?
Opening my eye, I realize this is my neighbor Darrell. Darrell posted a 3x3 foot Neighborhood Watch sign next to the Dead End sign in my yard as a crime deterrent a few weeks ago. Since that time Darrell has been on the vigil, stopping three racoons and a possum from setting up shop in Willis, while alerting the local sheriff to the immediate need to come to our village and prevent the Chupacabra from stealing our children. Briefly, the evil thought goes through my mind of asking Darrell which of our twelve neighbors he is watching as the Neighborhood Watch guy, when instead I say, "Keep up the good work Darrell, I need to go save my tea that I left on the burner".
Thinking I am in the clear, I start tip toeing back to the house, so as not to wake my wife, when I realize I am surrounded by a mob. This mob is not composed of angry pitchfork wielding villagers, flash mobsters from Ann Arbor, or even flesh eating zombies but something far, far more frightening to me. "Oh Tannenbaum, O' Tannenbaum, Your branches green delight us". Apparently the local Southern Baptists want to make sure I rot in hell.