• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 06
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There is a clue at the end
of the garden gate,
the one with the tangled vines
all growing like octopus arms
with a life of their own.

We found an unsigned note,
more of a scribbled mess,
on a used envelope.
Gerald (he’s the bear)
said that we should follow the instructions,
because it’s a Wednesday
and nothing terribly interesting happens
on Wednesdays,
but today could be different.

Tommy pulled out his magnifying glass.
It was always with him.
He inspected the note, the grass,
his shoelaces.
The shoelaces took at least ten minutes.
The note said to look for a clue
at the end of the garden gate.
We found a red string,
a gum wrapper, and a footprint.
We walked along the path,
around the tree,
and back to the gate
to find that every last clue was missing.



Gerald came unusually close to me
and sniffed my breath.
Tommy held his magnifying glass
up close to my scarf and then
down at my feet.
He noticed an uneven pull at the end,
where one thread was shorter than
the others.
He also took care to measure the length
of my shoe, and then
the length of the footprint
in the dirt.
Then Tommy held up my fingers
and spotted ink.

“I confess,” I say.
“All fingers point to me.
There is no treasure or mystery.
But, in my defense,
this is not a boring Wednesday.”