英语美文静静听《Holiday Harpooning》下

“What the heck is that?” Michael asked, pointing to the pole5 end, which protruded a good ten inches through the bedroom wall.

I nodded toward the neighbor’s house. “Their patio umbrella.”

He stood for a moment trying to comprehend what happened. I explained the wind gust and my near harpooning while we slept. “I don’t know what disturbs me more,” he said, “the fact that a pole came slicing through the side of our house, or that we failed to notice.”

“If it had sounded like one of the kids sneaking in after curlew, or one of the dogs barfing on the bedroom carpet, I would’ve shot right up in bed,” I offered.

Later that day Michael called the insurance agent to report the incident, but due to the holiday weekend it would be a few days before an adjuster could come out.

“A few daysT I said. What do we do in the meantime?”

“Just ignore it.”

It seemed like we could ignore it, hut others had a more difficult time. When I went back outside, a woman walking her dog stopped on the sidewalk and called out, “What happened there?” Then a few phone calls from neighbors came in, followed by cars stopping curbside. It appeared the pole had become a public spectacle of sorts, so I decided to make the mosi of our newfound celebrity status.

I hung an American flag on the pole. It was, after all, Memorial Day weekend. After a day of stares, snickers, and headshakes from passersby, I decided to try a new decor—hanging planters—petunias, impatiens, ferns, and moss roses, which caused more cars to slow and take a gander. People hung out of their car windows, pointing and laughing.

Two days later, our son Holden came home from his friend’s house and asked, “Mom, why are there bras and underwear hanging From the pole on the side of the house?’

“Because they can,” I replied, smiling at my creativity.

Piper, our daughter, laughed and said, “What the heck, Mom? Cars are stopping in front of the house. Can’t we have a little privacy around here?”

“Privacy?” Michael chuckled. ‘We no longer have privacy since your mother decided to air our dirty laundry in front of the neighbors.”

“Can’t we just go back to normal?” Holden asked, tired of the parade of people.

“Normal? Oh, you mean just the pole jutting from the side of the house?”

“Exactly,” he said.

Fearing the display of intimate apparel might eventually cause a traffic accident, I removed the garments from the makeshift clothesline.

By the end of the week, the adjuster arrived at the house. He stood, shielding his eyes from the sun while peering at the now barren pole. “Isn’t this the strangest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Michael glanced at me and smiled. “Close.”