Page 6 - Scene Magazine 41-10 October 2016
P. 6

As Scene By
By FREDERICK (RICK) DERUItER
   I’m gonna guess it was about 15 years ago – heck, maybe twenty. My children – myself, and my wife, Terri, were doing the weekly cleaning here at the office.
Tony and Alyssa always tended to the trash. Terri took care of the bathrooms and kitchen. And me? Vacuum duty.
Me, and the Hoover had made our way to the copy machine, and I had to move a box or two to get into the corner. A HSSSSS, and beady eyes stared right at me.
“EVERYBODY OUT,” I screamed, and ran out the front door. In those two seconds I was already sweating. The kids followed with laughter – they thought I was playing a game. Terri peaked out of the open door casually, and asked... “Frederick Allen, what are you up to?
“IT’S A RACOON! There’s a raccoon in the office,” I yelled.
Terri’s eyes turned with a squint towards the abandoned vacuum... “No kidding?” she said.
She grabbed a broom, and sauntered
the nature of things
confidently over to the corner. “Shoo. Shoo now.” After a circle or two around the office – she managed to scare the “monster” out of the open front door.
Nature. It terrifies me.
The story above reminds me of the time Terri came into our living room with hands grinding her eyes from sleep. “Frederick, why are you wearing all those winter clothes? And, WHY, are you carrying a bucket and a tennis racket?”
I whispered very softly... “Shhh. I saw a mouse! I’m gonna catch him.”
“No you’re not. I’ll buy a trap tomorrow,” she said with a laugh. Then added... “Get that coat off, and come to bed.”
When I was kid, I couldn’t get enough of nature. If “it” moved, if “it” breathed, if “it” tried to get away from me – well, I was going to catch “it.”
Just about every year between seven and seventeen, I got a new fishing net for Christmas. Because last year’s net was torn to shreds from sticks, logs and snapping turtles. In that same time, I used my allowance to buy the cheapest pair of sneakers available – for wading in nearby swamps. We called them “gym shoes” in those days. Boots were out of
the question... because... who knows when a game of football might come up? I had buckets for turtles and frogs. I had tubs for fish and tadpoles. I had jars and screened boxes for bugs. The containers were usually empty after a day or two. My poor dad – I can actually hear every four-letter word he said while he let my latest “conquests” go from
their cages.
So, somewhere in between then and
now, things have changed. I really have no idea why. I could guess, and guess... and probably still be wrong. Maybe, it’s Karma. Nature feared me for at least a decade... and, it’s paying me back for the rest of my life.
Not more than a month ago – Terri was harvesting vegetables from our garden... “Oh my! Rick, come and look at this!”
“What is it?”
Turns out, it was a tomato caterpillar. The darn thing was as big as my thumb. It was bright green – with scary pointing things coming out of its head.
Terri shouted at me again... “Where are you going?”
Without looking back, I said... “Get- ting some gloves, it probably bites!”
  DON’T MISS YOUR CHANCE TO WIN!
Be a super sleuth... join the ongoing hunt for Rick DeRuiter
Pour through the pages of Scene this month and find the
elusive DeRuiter. Warn your friends. Warn your neighbors. He’s in there somewhere, waiting for the one lucky detective to find him!
lAst montH... Page 17 lAst montH’s Winner... Ann lYon
LOOK! - Now you can e-mail your detective work too! rick@scenepub.com. Include your name, daytime phone and what page you found him.
or on-line at... www.scenepub.com
   NEW
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