Still, no movement. Just quiet breathing.
“What’s it doing on my roof, Frank?” I ask.
“What makes you think that I had anything to do with it?” Frank waits for my usual look of disgust. “Look,” he says. “Don’t worry. They should be here tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“The herpetologists.”
“What’s a herpetologist?”
“From Brooklyn. They study these things.” he says.
“From Brooklyn? We are in Colorado, Frank.”
“No problem. They have never seen one this big. And because of your circumstances, I talked them down on their price.”
“My circumstances?”
“Your car. It wasn’t insured.”
“What do you mean, my car? My car has insurance. Who used my car?”
“Nobody used it,” he says. “The guy in the garbage truck said it happens all the time around here, with the hills and all.”
“What happened, Frank?”
“He didn’t hit it hard. Only tapped it. Remember? I tried to remind you that you need to turn your wheels toward the curb when you park on a hill.”
“Where’s my car, Frank?”
“At the bottom of the hill. In the park. You were lucky. It didn’t hit anything. And the kid wasn’t hurt, except for a broken thumb.”
“My car hit a kid?”
“No. He was laying upside down, under the steering wheel.”
“There was a kid in my car?”
“He was trying to steal it.”
“A kid was trying to steal my car, and broke his thumb?”
“Don’t worry,” says Frank. “The cop said, since you weren’t driving, he won’t pull your license for lack of insurance.”
“I have insurance!”
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” he says.
“Frank!”
But Frank is already wandering to the other side of the yard. He stares at the roof. No movement. Just quiet breathing.
“Kind of big, isn’t it?” he says.
I am suddenly very tired.
“Say… I never noticed before.” He takes a couple steps back. “Your roof looks like it is sagging.”
I squat down and rub my eyes.
“They say that in Tonga, people use them for pets.”
I guess that was supposed to make me feel better.
“Cheer up,” he says. “They found your garage door opener.
“My garage door opener?”
“The one the kid took from the visor of your car. I will even go and pick it up for you, myself.”
“Who has it? The police?”
“No. It fell on the ground when they were cutting the kid from the car.”
Cutting the kid from the car…? I can’t ask.
“Some guy found it,” he says.
“The car?”
“No. The garage door opener. I don’t have the guy’s name. But he said that he would meet me at the library around seven-o’clock.”
I feel sick to my stomach. I stare back up at the roof. No movement. Just quiet breathing.
“What’s it doing on my roof, Frank?”
Frank takes another look. “Nothing much, at the moment. So, can you give me twenty-five bucks?”
“I loaned you twenty-five bucks last week.”
“See?” he says. “You are getting off easy.”
“What do you need the money for?”
“Fifty dollars is all the guy wants to give you back your garage door opener.”
