WHAT HAPPENED ON MONDAY

Look, Mr. Smarty Pants Police Officer, I never asked them why they named their daughter Sarasota Florida. That wouldn’t’a been too polite of me, would it? Howdy, new neighbors, welcome to Poppy Street. Hey, why’d you give your kid such a dumb name? See how that would’a sounded? And anyway, me and Missy Hampton, the Floridas’ neighbor on the other side, speculated that pustule stuck to the stinky side of America’s great turd must’ve been where the little hellion was conceived. If her folks had had their honeymoon in Impsville, Kentucky, or Sadistic, Mississippi maybe we’d’a received a heads up, but as she went by Sara, it took all of us a few weeks to realize our new neighbor was the devil incarnate. From what Principal Ortega must’ve told you, Officer, I’m thinking it took Eastwick Elementary about as long.

Oh sure, Ruthie Florida mentioned at the Dryer’s welcome party that little Sara was special. That was the term she used: special. Looking back now, I can see she used that term specifically ‘cause it’s got more than one meaning. I remember asking her what does little Sara like to do that makes her special? 

But Ruthie Florida didn’t answer me, not really. She just said Sara likes to experiment, and right then Dolly Dryer came by with a tray of her famous pigs-in-a-blanket and Ruthie said they was vegetarian and they all left so I never got a response from her. But I remembered what she had said and the week before school started, I went and bought Sara one of those 10-science-experiments-in-a-box kits from Ollie’s. Just trying to be neighborly, you know, not looking for a big thank you or anything. 

Three days later I found that kit at the Goodwill. Officer, I know it was the same one because I’d actually bought it for my boy Deacon only once he’d broken the beakers and lost the syringes he didn’t want it no more, and this one on the shelf was missing the same–

You listen here, that’s not the point! The point is that it struck me as real strange that this “special” child who “liked to experiment” didn’t want a science experiment kit. Dolly said maybe they was the kind of snooty family that shopped at Target and didn’t even know what a discount bin was, but they had sheets hanging in their windows and a LeSabre in their driveway, same as the rest of us. 

Now you know Sara was in the first grade at Eastwick, and my youngest, Jenny is in third so their paths didn’t cross much, but Jenny would still mention Sara every so often if she’d seen her in the halls or, more often than not, waiting outside the principal’s office. David Ortega and I used to work together at K.C.’s Diner when we were in high school and we still shoot the breeze a little every now and then, a little more now that we’re both divorced but that’s neither here nor there. Wait, why are you making a note of that? What’s going on between him and me’s got nothing to do with what happened on Monday. We all saw it coming and if the FPD had taken my suspicions seriously, there might still be a science wing attached to the elementary school!

So like I was saying, Jenny’d report to me sometimes that she’d see Sara waiting her turn outside David’s office, kicking her feet and staring up at the ceiling like it didn’t bother her a lick to be in trouble again. Eastwick’s got about 800 kids to deal with, and about half of them are surely bound for the nuthouse or the pen, so it’s easy to blend in when you ain’t even four feet tall. So for Sara to keep getting called out to warm the seat in the Green Mile, she must’a been awful. By the way, have you been to visit Ms. Weatherby? I was told they moved her out of the ICU yesterday. I don’t reckon she’ll be back in her classroom before Christmas, though, do you? 

Anyway here on Poppy Street, we keep an eye on one another. Someone’s always sitting on their porch or looking out their window, noticing which cars are pulling U-ies in whose driveway and whatnot. That’s how I learned Sara was flinging her uneaten lunch on top of my roof, heading home after school each day – Missy saw her. I reckon I got a dozen or more PB&Js up there on the flat part where I can’t reach ‘em from my ladder. I need to get Deacon up there, but when he ain’t taking 45-minute long showers, he’s asleep. ‘Bout as useful as a box fan on the sun these days, that boy is.  

Yeah, yeah, I know you got other interviews on your list. I’m just tryin’ to give you the details, you know. I listen to podcasts and watch them murder shows. Sometimes it’s the little details you don’t originally think matters that’s the ones that solves the crime. Well I know that crime has been solved, but ain’t you trying to figure out where the Floridas could’ve run to? Running from justice is still a crime in this country, idn’t it? Y’all looking into their financials? They got criminal backgrounds or stays in the loony bin? Come on, Officer, you can tell me. They ever been in the system? Oh, hey, speaking of – were they able to find Mr. Walsh’s finger? Jenny told me she heard from Dolly’s daughter that it got flushed down the toilet during all the kerfuffle Monday morning.

Well anyway, another detail you might be interested to know is that in addition to feeding my shingles everyday, sweet little Sara was also fond of such pastimes as Ding Dong Ditch and Stuff the Squirrel. That was where she’d cover a bird feeder with rat trap paper and wait for a squirrel to stick itself, then take that squirrel and stuff it in various locations such as a tailpipe, a mailbox, or – her personal favorite – wrapped up in an Amazon box and left on my front porch. 

Officer, you ever had a terrified squirrel with one foot still stuck to rat paper rippin’ around your house? Sarasota Florida’s lucky she made it to her seventh birthday this year, is all I’ll say about that.

I’m sure you’ve heard about that party, haven’t you? Well when you get back to the station today, ask Officer Kim about it. She was the one who responded to my 9-1-1 call and I’m willing to bet she still thinks about it before she goes to bed at night. We’re still finding chunks of that bouncy castle around here. Some of them chunks are still covered with that…stuff.

Hey, will you let us know if and when you find the Floridas? I can’t locate my curling iron and I’m thinking Ruthie must’ve taken it with her when they skedaddled. No, I didn’t lend Beelzebub’s mother my curler, but where else could it be? We leave our doors unlocked on Poppy Street, and I wouldn’t put it past either one of those Florida gals to sneak inside and take whatever it is they wanted. And they packed up so fast Monday, Ruth probably just threw it in a box like it was hers. 

I’m willing to bet money they’d had to do this all before, you know what I’m saying? This weren’t their first rodeo, no sir, no way. In hindsight, there were signs something like this was going to happen. Oh, yeah, Officer. For instance, Ruthie told me that Mr. Florida – Rick, I think his name was – drove for Old Dominion and that’s why he was only ever home on weekends, but I think now that he was either keeping a second home ready for them or scouting one out, always ready to relocate the family at a moment’s notice. And they never finished unpacking, or decorated, or hung anything on the walls. How do I know? Well, I mighta peeked in the windows a time or two when I knew they was out. Don’t give me that look. I ain’t the one on trial here. Besides, looking in on a half-empty house ain’t a crime. 

What I’m trying to say is that what happened over at Eastwick Elementary was a completely avoidable tragedy, and I’m hoping that you and the rest of the FPD will remember this little incident, and when in the future another concerned citizen such as myself makes repeated calls reporting on a little 62-pound she-devil scamperin’ about Flugerville, you will take them seriously. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get ready for the fundraiser to rebuild the science lab. I’m donating that science kit – yes, I re-bought it! – for the raffle and I need to scrub the Goodwill sticker off. Someone’s gonna appreciate this kit, dadgumit!