--  17  --

 

 

     The woman takes a break from burying her attorney in a remote part of the woods. She sits on a log and cracks open a beer.

     A raccoon happens by and sits on the log beside her. They smile and acknowledge one another with a nod. "Got big plans for the weekend?" she asks the raccoon.

     "Huh?" says the raccoon.

     "I say, do you have big plans for the weekend, raccoon?"

     "Huh?" says the raccoon.

     "You got cotton in your ears or something, little guy? I say, do you have big PLANS for the WEEKEND?"

     "Plans?" says the raccoon. "No. No big plans. Just the usual. You know."

     "Oh," she says. After a few moments she continues, saying "You want a swig of my beer, raccoon?"

     "Maybe," says the raccoon. "What kind is it?"

     "The salty kind from Colorado," she says. "It's good stuff."

     "No, that's okay," says the raccoon. "Thanks for offering, though. I'm fine."

     "Okay," she says. "Have it your way, raccoon, but I tell ya' what, ya' don't know what you're missing."

     The raccoon seems to get anxious about something. It feels for its wallet in its pocket, whips out the wallet, counts the money in the wallet, and slides the wallet back into the pocket. "Well, good luck burying that attorney, lady," says the raccoon.

     "Thanks, raccoon. I guess I'll see you around."

     "Yeah. Probably," says the raccoon. "Take it easy."

     "Okay. Bye, raccoon. Watch out for traps."

     A small leaf falls from a tree and slips inside the back of the woman's expensive blouse. The itching bothers her all the rest of the afternoon until she returns home and strips off her clothing in the guest bathroom. She reheats some of Thursday's Chinese and falls asleep to the sound of the dishwasher.

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