What Goes Around Comes Around, Part II

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(Continued)

As a result, I decided to give him “a run for his money,” and would have been content to do to him what I previously did to his dog. However, just before our bicycle frames ceased to be separate entities, Jimmy (or Albert, as the case may be) swerved to the right; avoiding a minor catastrophe. And as he peddled off into oblivion that night, I shouted. 

“You Dummy!!!”

Albert and Jimmy had a propensity for, as I have alluded, tearing things up. And the very sod which lined the tree-lined avenues of our little borough was no exception. It seems the fellas enjoyed doing figure 8’s in people’s yards, and leaving long skid marks along straight-a-ways. They were especially delighted to “do their thing” after a rainstorm wet the ground; allowing for deeper and more impressive furrows.

Well, my friends, one of these straight-a-ways happened to double as the neighborhood dog path, and I just happen to own a lovely little shih tzu named “Queenie” who regularly “does her thing” on that particular stretch of grass. And thus, after the hoodlums had torn up the doggie walk one too many times, (with their uncle’s old truck, I might say) I formulated a plan of action.

One Saturday I drove to our neighborhood Lowe’s Hardware and Garden Store, and purchased enough solid concrete blocks to line the entire length of the dog path; about twenty in all. (I later reflected that the weight of those things could not have been good for my shocks, but I managed to transport them in one load). And rather than so much as drive home, I stopped my car along that familiar strip of ground, and set the blocks in a straight line, and with about five feet between each one.

Well, my readers, you know how hunters set traps for lions? Little did I know I was accomplishing something similar that day. For you see, that long line of concrete blocks might as well have been an airport beacon. And while I soon noticed a couple of the slabs of cement were broken into pieces, that there were some black rubber markings on the surface, and that there were long furrows in the soil around them, it was only later I became privy to “the rest of the story.”

For as I talked to a neighbor, “Mrs. Prevatt” one day, a woman whose home sits directly across from the dog path, she happened to mention that Albert’s and Jimmy’s uncle had once knocked on her door, and that he had been extremely agitated.

“Do you happen to know who laid those concrete blocks along that strip of roadway?”

(and)

“My nephew was driving along there, and hit those d_ _ _ _ _ things, and

… broke an axle on my Ford truck!”

As our beloved president once said, “I cannot tell a lie,” I was pleased. Yes, I was pleased.

They say “turn-around is fair play.” Well, I don’t know about that. As a Christian, I’m prone to agree with Christ’ admonition to “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” 

But in this case, I tend to think providence or karma, or whatever you care to call it won out. God, after all, promised that He would “render to every man according to what he has done.”

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 6. Vol.'s 1-15, Copyright 2015
 
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