mole’s new tunnel branched off from the first, meandering toward the apple tree, where it stopped abruptly beneath the
overhanging limbs. Must have bumped his noggin on a root, Millard thought. He stepped gingerly forward, peering at the fresh
pile of earth. He stooped, brushing the dirt aside until he could see the new hole. Nobody home as far as he could see. Yesterday’s
tunnel seemed undisturbed, the dirt piles having dried out a bit under the sun. He reached down and felt through the soil,
pulling out two perfect rectangles of Juicy Fruit gum.
THAT AFTERNOON the crossword puzzle might as well have been in Swahili. Millard just couldn’t get it. Every time he stared out the window,
which was how he normally concentrated on a word clue, his eyes went to the jagged scars on his lawn. He tried looking beyond
them, but that landed his gaze on the eyesore across the street. That downspout hanging there was an ominous sign. Once one
house in the neighborhood went to pot, it wouldn’t be long before others followed. The inversion of keeping up with the Joneses.
Rita stopped by. She cheerily congratulated him for eating most of his frozen dinners during the past week but compensated
for the positive note by complaining that he should have called if he had planned to be gone all yesterday afternoon. “I didn’t
know where you were, Dad. For all I knew, you were lying in a ditch somewhere or flat on the kitchen floor, dead!”
He didn’t mention the two episodes of lying flat on the lawn though very much alive. He did tell her in detail about his mole
infestation, which seemed to concern her about as much as if he had said the sky was blue. She only looked over her shoulder
at the damage through the picture window. “Well, yes. Look at that,” she said. “It’s a regular mole Disneyland.” And then
she proceeded to tell him that Audrey Milhall was in town and how they hadn’t seen each other since their ten-year reunion
but planned to get together on Friday night. Nicole’s football game was going to be out of town that night so Rita probably
wouldn’t have gone to watch her lead cheers anyway, and Petie would be staying overnight with a friend. Dan could just fend
for himself at home.
“I haven’t seen the kids since Fourth of July,” he said.
“Oh, Dad.” She patted his knee sympathetically. “You know, they’re teenagers now. Their lives are just so busy, what with
all their practices and school events and friends. Dan says he’s thinking of installing a revolving door, the way they come
and go so quickly. But you know Nicole has her driver’s license now. I’ll tell her to come on over here and see you sometime
soon.”
He put the paper on the lamp table and stood, stretching out his legs. “You tell her to bring her brother. I’ll take them
out for root beer floats like we used to.”
Rita’s lips flattened out. “Well, if you do that, let Nicole drive.” She sighed and paused long enough that he knew this was
going to be something he didn’t want to hear. “About your car, Dad. About you driving it, I mean. I’m wondering if, at your
age, you shouldn’t just park that thing for good.”
“Confound it, Rita!”
“Hear me out, Dad. It’s just that there was this story about older drivers on a news show, and the statistics are absolutely
scary. You’d be amazed at how many of your peers are driving in imaginary lanes and running into telephone poles!”
“So you think I’ve gone senile? Or blind?”
“No! I just think your reflexes may not be all that they used to be, that’s all.”
He began pacing the floor in front of her. “What are you really afraid of? That I might die? Well, so what if I do? So what
if you come over here someday and find me in a heap on the kitchen floor because I ate corn dogs instead of shepherd’s pie
and creamed peas? What difference would it make, as long as I don’t leave you with a mess to clean
overhanging limbs. Must have bumped his noggin on a root, Millard thought. He stepped gingerly forward, peering at the fresh
pile of earth. He stooped, brushing the dirt aside until he could see the new hole. Nobody home as far as he could see. Yesterday’s
tunnel seemed undisturbed, the dirt piles having dried out a bit under the sun. He reached down and felt through the soil,
pulling out two perfect rectangles of Juicy Fruit gum.
THAT AFTERNOON the crossword puzzle might as well have been in Swahili. Millard just couldn’t get it. Every time he stared out the window,
which was how he normally concentrated on a word clue, his eyes went to the jagged scars on his lawn. He tried looking beyond
them, but that landed his gaze on the eyesore across the street. That downspout hanging there was an ominous sign. Once one
house in the neighborhood went to pot, it wouldn’t be long before others followed. The inversion of keeping up with the Joneses.
Rita stopped by. She cheerily congratulated him for eating most of his frozen dinners during the past week but compensated
for the positive note by complaining that he should have called if he had planned to be gone all yesterday afternoon. “I didn’t
know where you were, Dad. For all I knew, you were lying in a ditch somewhere or flat on the kitchen floor, dead!”
He didn’t mention the two episodes of lying flat on the lawn though very much alive. He did tell her in detail about his mole
infestation, which seemed to concern her about as much as if he had said the sky was blue. She only looked over her shoulder
at the damage through the picture window. “Well, yes. Look at that,” she said. “It’s a regular mole Disneyland.” And then
she proceeded to tell him that Audrey Milhall was in town and how they hadn’t seen each other since their ten-year reunion
but planned to get together on Friday night. Nicole’s football game was going to be out of town that night so Rita probably
wouldn’t have gone to watch her lead cheers anyway, and Petie would be staying overnight with a friend. Dan could just fend
for himself at home.
“I haven’t seen the kids since Fourth of July,” he said.
“Oh, Dad.” She patted his knee sympathetically. “You know, they’re teenagers now. Their lives are just so busy, what with
all their practices and school events and friends. Dan says he’s thinking of installing a revolving door, the way they come
and go so quickly. But you know Nicole has her driver’s license now. I’ll tell her to come on over here and see you sometime
soon.”
He put the paper on the lamp table and stood, stretching out his legs. “You tell her to bring her brother. I’ll take them
out for root beer floats like we used to.”
Rita’s lips flattened out. “Well, if you do that, let Nicole drive.” She sighed and paused long enough that he knew this was
going to be something he didn’t want to hear. “About your car, Dad. About you driving it, I mean. I’m wondering if, at your
age, you shouldn’t just park that thing for good.”
“Confound it, Rita!”
“Hear me out, Dad. It’s just that there was this story about older drivers on a news show, and the statistics are absolutely
scary. You’d be amazed at how many of your peers are driving in imaginary lanes and running into telephone poles!”
“So you think I’ve gone senile? Or blind?”
“No! I just think your reflexes may not be all that they used to be, that’s all.”
He began pacing the floor in front of her. “What are you really afraid of? That I might die? Well, so what if I do? So what
if you come over here someday and find me in a heap on the kitchen floor because I ate corn dogs instead of shepherd’s pie
and creamed peas? What difference would it make, as long as I don’t leave you with a mess to clean
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