"High Noon"
By Bob Perks

I had worked long and hard on this project.  Knowing it
was finally complete gave me great satisfaction.  But it
was high noon on one of the hottest days of this summer
and I was drenched with sweat, a little burned on my
now balding head, and my knees were painfully sore.

I had this planned over the past several summers always
finding a good reason to put it off.  Well, maybe not a good
reason.  Any excuse would do.

I hate painting.  Staining the deck is very low on that list of
things I should and need to do.  Right above coating the
driveway with tar oil.  That's at the very bottom.

That is also next on my list of things I must do this year.

Like all things I put off, once they are complete, I stand
proudly over them, beat my chest, and gloat over the
accomplishment.

"Perfect!" I said.  "Now, all I have to do is keep the
dogs off of it."

I went about setting up barriers using old fence, deck chairs,
planters, and anything I could find.  I directed them out the
back door and off to the side so as to avoid footprints
both on the oil paint and our carpet.

It worked perfectly.

Just before retreating to the house and to a much needed shower,
I took one last look at this fine work of art.

"What is that?" I said.  "Where did that come from?"

Clearly marked and evenly spaced across the entire area, I found
tiny marks running in straight lines and inexplicably in circles.

Making my way tucked close to the house, I carefully stepped to
the very edge of the deck closest to our flower garden.  It was there
I found several of the small markings.

Upon closer observation I discovered that these were indeed
footprints. 

"I can't believe it!" I whispered.  "What can I do now?"

In my frustration, my foot slipped and I was now standing on
the freshly stained decked.  I crouched down in disbelief
and sighed. I was baffled by it all because I thought I planned
for all the possibles of the human and animal size, never
considering the fact that my yard is inhabited by creatures
as small as this.

Now, almost frozen in place by this stunning discovery, I remained
in position so as to prevent further damaging my work.

Just then, off to my left, it appeared.  The culprit!  The menace of
my masterpiece.  The graffiti artist responsible for this act.

A chipmunk.

He was as stunned as I was.  We stood there face to face looking
at each other, wondering who would make the first move. 

"How could you?" I said.  He didn't blink an eye.  (I'm not really sure
if chipmunks can blink.) It was like the scene from "High Noon,"
where two men standing on main street wait to see who draws first.

He actually sat down.

He's teasing me, taunting me now.

The warm, humid air was now getting the best of me.  Sweat that
once easily soaked into my hair, now ran freely over my bald spot,
and in poor timing into my eyes.  I reached up to rub them and
when I opened my eyes he was gone.

I won the stand off!  He ran first.

My legs now cramped, my body soaked, my spirit crushed, I looked
around for something, one thing positive in all of this.

My only satisfaction was in thinking that when he returned home he
tracked oily footprints into his own home.  And, hoping he was
married, his wife would not let him live it down for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, I heard the leaves on the two tall trees nearby begin to
rustle.

I looked off to my left where I came face to face with my enemy.
Out of nowhere, at the urging of the wind, a small bunch of daisies
show their faces, retreating on and off until a smile came to my face.

In comparison to all the woes of the world this deserves no more
stress or acknowledgement.  I did build all of this to make my yard
more beautiful and for the enjoyment of family and friends.  I do count
among those friends all the creatures great and small who bring joy
to my life simply by watching them.

I stood up, shook my head, and laughing about it all walked into my
house.

Yes, I tracked oil on the carpet.  I am married.  My wife will not let me
live it down for the rest of my life.

But I out stared a chipmunk at high noon.

"I believe in you!"
Bob

http://wwwIWishYouEnough.com