With my grandparents no longer living in their house, it has fallen
on my mother to see that the place doesn't fall into disrepair or get
robbed. Each week, she ships furniture to various relatives. Each week,
she calls me and asks, "Do you want [...]?"
Last week, she went to
oversee the dredging of the pond. This pond is actually across the
highway from the house, and only a metal guardrail and three foot-wide
bank separates it from the road. The purpose of the dredging was to
recover a truck that crashed through the guardrail. When they pulled it
out, they found another car...with a body.
"They finally identified him," Mom said. "The man has been missing for over a year, so at least his family has closure."
It's
just strange to think that a dead guy was pulled from a pond where I
used to fish as a child, where I once came upon a black racer, and not
knowing it wasn't poisonous, blindly ran through the woods and bolted
across the highway without looking. My father caught me up in his arms
- something he rarely did, as I tended to run to my mother.
I've been terrified of snakes ever since then.
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