Every Friday morning I'm ambushed by my crazian landlady. I've tried to leave my place early and she appears. I try to leave my place late and she's waiting. It doesn't matter when I leave since she has the ability to materialize out of the ether like a demon from the underworld. One day I thought I had escaped her only to find her up the street, a block from the house, standing by my truck.
This morning I opened my front door and she was hobbling up the front steps. She looked frantic.
"Who kill mouth?!" she exclaimed.
"Who kill mouth?! Mouth!"
"Who kill mouth?! Leave mouth right there! Right there!" She pointed to the doormat in front of my door.
"Someone kill mouth and leave it there! Right there!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Actually I had an idea. But her eyes were growing wild and I knew playing dumb would lead to one thing: crazian landlady charades!
"Mouth! Mouth!" She brought her arthritic hands up to her head and raised her index fingers best she could to make antennae. "Mouth! Mouth!" She started buzzing. She lowered her hands and began moving her arms up and down like wings.
"Oh, a moth."
"That's what I say, 'mouth!' Who killed mouth?! It right there! In front door. Right there!"
"I have no idea."
"No kill mouth and leave. Ants come, ants come."
"Your aunts are coming? Where do they live?"
"No ants! Ants!"
She raised a hand up to her mouth to fashion mandibles. Her knobby fingers actually made this charade pretty convincing. If I had a can of Raid I would have sprayed her with it. "Ants come for mouth! No want ants. Ants bad."
"Do you think the moth was depressed?"
"Do you think the moth was depressed? I mean, maybe the moth committed suicide."
She looked confused.
"Maybe the moth lost its job. The economy is pretty bad right now. Maybe it overdosed on painkillers and alcohol after it attended an orgy in the neighborhood. I hear moths are always attending those orgies. They're worse than gay men."
She looked at me like I was the crazy one.
"I bet that's what happened. Did you call the coroner's office? They probably should do an autopsy. Because we need to rule out foul play."
The crazian landlady just shook her head.
"Why did you move the body?" I asked. "You're in trouble. You disturbed the crime scene."
"I threw away because ants! I no have time. This crazy. You crazy. I go. I go."
It was the very first time in five years that the crazian landlady left to get away from me instead of the other way around. On future Fridays I plan on frustrating her more. I was particularly amused at her reaction to a dead moth, which probably died of natural causes, seeing as she left poor dead Perciforth in her window for over well over a month. But I guess a dead mouse doesn't attract ants. It just attracts a blog entry.