A Mystery on the Garden Bench
Nobody ever determined what happened Tuesday.
The first indication of trouble was the toolbox. It lay open on the garden bench, its contents scattered in a manner suggesting urgent mechanical work or a small explosion.
A hammer lay beside a wire brush. Jeans hung over the armrest. Someone had left a bottle of Coca-Cola standing upright, which investigators considered significant.
The owner denied any knowledge of the incident.
“I was probably fixing something,” he told authorities.
Asked what, he shrugged.
The investigation took a turn when a neighbor reported hearing, “Well, that wasn't supposed to happen,” before three o'clock.
A search of the lilac patch revealed nothing.
By Thursday, authorities had lost interest. The toolbox returned to the basement, the jeans were washed, and the bench resumed its duties.
Only one question remained.
Why bring a rubber mallet, a polishing wheel, and a bottle of Coke into the backyard?
Years later, the photograph resurfaced.
The owner studied it.
Then he nodded.
“Oh, yeah,” he said.
Everyone leaned forward.
“That was a nice bench.”