The Pig Roast was next Saturday. More than one hundred people were expected. The menu included roasted whole piglet, hamburgers, hot links, coleslaw, potato, macaroni, carrot, and green olive salads, respectively, French bread, baked beans, chips and dips, cases of beer and soda.
The mix would be interesting. College students, tannery workers, a few gay guys, some Mexican neighbors, theater, and music people… A police lieutenant lived next door, but in spite of this joints were passed around. Music blared over loud speakers set outside with the volume turned up. As people began arriving, they dropped off whatever they had brought in the kitchen, and filtered into the back yard to watch the pig roast.
When the party was going full blast and everyone was a little drunk or a little stoned, a thief was busy making his rounds through all the rooms including the private rooms of the household occupants. Holmes went through each room taking what he wanted and dropping it into his ruck sack.
Kristie saw him – a shadow… He was drinking wine on the patio one minute flashing his beautiful white even teeth, talking to a topless co-ed who was barefoot in a sarong enjoying the autumn sun. His shadow moved from room to room taking this, ignoring that… looking into drawers, closets, and cupboards…..
Then he was in the living room swaying to the music. She could see the outline of his rhythmic prick which was visible through his white cotton draw string pants. His multi-colored ruck sack always at his side, slung across one shoulder. His biceps flexing as he danced, wine in hand, taking a hit of smoke, laughing with a small brunette, making plans for later….
When the pig was ready, everyone went outside to get plates of food. Holmes went upstairs to invade the host’s bedrooms looking for treasures. A camera, some binoculars, a pair of earrings, a necklace, some pot, and money was missing. Then he was gone – having gotten wind of some other fortunes to be made that day while all the others were partying.
Holmes hadn’t planned on the barrage of posters that went up over night announcing him as a THIEF! Rip off Artist! Scam Man! Second Story Man! Beware! He is NOT your friend! He hadn’t planned on Hank being home guarding his pot farm with a shotgun in hand. He hadn’t planned on Ellen, the baby sitter looking after the kids while the parents were at the party. And he certainly hadn’t planned on meeting Pupule with that big Rambo knife as he was slaughtering rabbits.
When Jo got home from the BBQ, Pupule was just finishing slaughtering the rabbits. The cage door was open and the back yard was filled with blood. “Good for the pot, like blood meal, you know?” The rabbit skins were staked for curing in the front yard at the entrance, as if to say, “Welcome Holme.” (sic) A large pot overflowing with boiling bloody rabbit meat sat on the stove strewing bubbles of blood all over the kitchen.
Since no one really knew who Holmes was or where he was from, no one suspected anything was amiss. Suddenly he was gone and no one knew where. Pupule had a new camera and some binoculars. Jo got some new earrings and a necklace. Holmes was mysteriously never heard from again. There was a rumor that he had gone back east, but no one really cared. Good riddance!
While excavating for a new housing project twenty years later, a skeleton was found of a young black male with evidence of probable knife wounds. An empty old hemp ruck sack was found near the body. It was Holmes.
(First published 8/31/11)
