The Ladder

A ladder propped against his chimney caused Henry to do a double-take.“When did that get put there?”

Jane came outside to check on Henry. “When did that get put there?”

“I don’t know. It just appeared.”

“Huh, well, you just cannot leave it there. It’s mashing down my rhododendron plant.”

Jane walked away.

“I didn’t put it there!” Henry yelled after her.

John Anderson wandered up the drive. “When did that get put there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you have to move it. It’s not allowed according to the Home Owner’s Association.” John Anderson moved on down the street.

“I didn’t put it there!” Henry yelled after him.

Henry started to move the ladder when Martin from next door came by.

“Nice ladder. When did that get put there?”

“It just appeared. Like magic. Not here this morning, here this evening. It’s a mystery.”

Just then an unmarked truck pulled into the drive.

A young man jumped out, grabbed the ladder, dislodging Henry. “Hey! Watch it!” shouted Henry.

While he shoved the ladder onto the truck roof, the young man yelled, “Sorry, buddy, forgot this earlier.”

“Who said it’s yours?” Henry asked. “Maybe it’s mine.”

The young man stopped, thought. Then he said, “Um. Nope, pretty sure it’s mine.”

“Prove it.” Henry and Martin marched to the truck to have a look.

Inside the truck were ladders of all shapes and sizes plus bags, overalls, piles of stuff.

“I’m a chimney sweep. Lost my magnetic sign somewhere.”

On close inspection, Henry and Martin had to agree that maybe the black soot and grime marked him guilty by association.

“Okay, then, gotta run.” The truck with the young man sped away.

“That was a real nice ladder, Henry.”

“Weird. We never use the fireplace.”



W/C 294