A secret in the shed

Tom had not been long in the small town but had already established a name for himself as a skillful gardener. The skills he had learned on the mainland as a horticulturist came in handy here in the remote part of Tasmania and the customers appreciated innovative ideas for a more sustainable garden. A few of the old residents needed a hand, especially with the heavier tasks, and Tom was always happy to oblige. What his customers did not know was that he would take a photo of them which he kept on his computer in the shed, using them as a model for his metal sculptures. His clients did not know that his shed was not only storing tools but also life-size rusted silhouettes of the clients he just worked for. Mr. Bingle had a bad fall during the winter, and it left the old man with a limp and a crooked back. Tom took a photo of him and his craggy lined face when he least expected it. Then there was the German widow, Mrs., Trudinger, who was a thin feeble little woman in her late fifties. She dressed in long skirts to cover her thin legs and big bulky shirts. But he caught her early one morning in her shorts and cardigan and managed to get a good photo. His favorite was Mr. Bourke. Charles Bourke, the handsome young man who had injured his arm in a tractor accident and no longer was able to do the heavy work on the land. He was very muscular with a tanned torso that he happily showed off wearing only shorts. The perfect model for a sculpture. Mr. and Mrs. Fox was usually seen together as she required his assistance with everything but there was a time when she walked towards the chicken shed dressed in a thin linen singlet and a short skirt showing off her well-formed legs, that he managed to take that picture of her alone. Jack Fox was portrayed by the stump in the garden where he sat during a coffee break. There were more of course but they were not the main players in this shed of rust and metal.

Tom locked the shed every night from the outside with a big padlock and knew that the figures were safely tucked away. He had a couple on display in his front garden, a man, and a woman. They had been his next-door neighbors in Sydney, and he had managed to capture their characters and facial expressions very well. Nobody here knew that they were modelled after real people and thought only that Tom was clever to make them look so lifelike.

He was usually very tired at night after a long day’s work, but he still liked to spend an hour or two in the shed working on the sculptures. It was his way of relaxing and thinking about something else besides gardening. One morning as he was going to work and needed the big saw from the shed, he noticed something he had not seen before. He looked around in the room and felt sure the sculptures had moved from the night before. They were not in the same positions. He walked closer but everything else seemed the same and he felt sure nobody could have gotten into the shed without breaking the lock, which was almost impossible. The more he looked around the more he was sure that they had moved, and he started to feel uncomfortable. This was not the time to investigate further so he grabbed the saw and moved to the car. Passing the two sculptures in the front he noticed that the larger of the two, the male, had also slightly changed its position. Was he going crazy? The thought played on his mind all day and the first thing he did when he came home was to unlock the shed and have a look. There they were, as he had left them in the morning, and he wondered if it was his mind playing tricks on him.

The following morning as he quickly checked the shed, the same thing had happened. They had once again changed their positions. He felt sure he had left Judy Fox there by the working bench the night before, as he was working on her legs, but she was now standing closer to the door and Jack Fox himself was at the end of the shed where he had not been before. There was no time to think about it now, he had to get to work and locked up the shed door extra carefully before leaving home. He was told strange things happened here in this remote part of the island, but he was yet to find out if the rumor was true.

He was working for Mr. Bingle who late that afternoon said he was going to have a cool ale at the pub and asked Tom to come along. Tom did not usually go to the pub except on the occasional weekend but since Bingle wanted his company, he agreed to meet him there. He was a good customer and well off at that.

They stood at the bar, and this being the only pub in town was popular with the locals. They talked about the garden at the back of Bingles' house and Tom said he had thought of things that would improve the poor soil for those green vegetables. A voice came from a nearby table.

Mr. Tucker raised his voice.

- Fancy you, you old devil. Sneaking around at night at the Foxes place, making a play for Judy. You just wait until he finds out. He will kill you.

Charles Bourke laughed loudly.

- What are you talking about?

- I’m talking about you mate. I have seen you there more than once, don’t forget my house borders on theirs and there are no trees to hide behind. Only the mustard field.

- Are you crazy man? What would I be doing at their place? What is it you are insinuating?

Mr. Tucker leaned forward as if he were going to share a secret, but he spoke so loudly that everyone could hear him.

- I am talking about you and Judy! Having an affair with Foxes wife! You sure are playing with fire!

- Get off you silly old fool. I have done nothing of the sort. Nor am I interested in her or him for that matter! You are seeing things! Charles put down his empty glass and stood up to leave. He was more than annoyed.

- Get new glasses! You can’t see properly. And don’t accuse me of doing anything I haven’t done, or you will regret it! Get it!

Mr. Tucker looked confused.

- But if it was not you, then who was it? He looked just like you!

It was too late; Charles had already left the room.

- Ha, what do you make of that? Bingle giggled to himself.

- A bit of excitement in the town.

Tom sighed.

- Well, it’s none of my business really but I must say I think Charles is innocent. He sure looked surprised; besides, he is a good enough bloke.

People suddenly got something to talk about. Even the ones that did not usually talk to each other found they wanted to solve the mystery. Poor Judy Fox, she would get some nasty looks from now on.

Tom was tired when he got home and went straight to bed. It was not until a couple of days later that he went back into his shed. Yes, they had moved again and this time there was something else that caught his attention. Mr. Tucker was covered in a thin film of yellow dust. Tom examined the others, but he was the only one. He touched the dust with his finger and looked at it.

- Mustard, he thought. From the mustard fields! But how could that be?

There was no answer and he had to let it be for now. He took note of where they all were standing before he locked up for the night. And the next morning he was there again just to check. This time Charles Bourke had mud on his feet. Thick, dry mud! The expression on his face did not look right, almost fearful. Tom started to feel uncomfortable and did something that was quite out of his character. He stopped at the shop in town and bought a security camera to set up in the shed in the evening. He had to know what was going on.

Bingle was happy to chat while Tom was working. He said he had talked to Mr. Tucker and that he had seen Charles at the Foxes again. In the middle of the night. He heard a sound from the gate and went out to have a look and there they were. Charles and Judy. Tom was not really interested but since Bingle was so enthusiastic and paying him, he pretended to pay attention. He had his own problems to deal with. Something was going on in his shed and he had to know what it was.

The evenings fall quickly in this part of Tasmania and there is not much time between dusk and night. Tom worked fast, securing the last camera in the shed and took the computer with him into the house to watch what was going on. He sat in the lounge eating popcorn as he was trying to stay awake while he watched the screen in front of him. Nobody appeared and nothing happened. He eventually fell asleep and when he woke in the morning, he was still sitting there in the lounge with the computer in front of him.

- Well, that was a fruitless exercise, he thought. And a waste of money.

But he could not let go of what he had seen and when he checked the following night, he found Judy Fox in a compromised position with Charles Bourke. It was obvious that the sculptures had been moved, even in the most subtle ways. There was mud on Judys shoes and there was mud on Charles boots. The two sculptures had been outside in the mud, but who had taken them?

He sat down to watch last night’s security footage and according to the position of the moon it must have been around midnight when a person suddenly appeared outside the shed. Tom leaned forward to see better. The person obviously knew his way around and grabbed the big pad lock and unlocked it with a key. Tom gasped. There was something familiar about this man, but he could not see who he was. The screen went dark and no matter how Tom tried to recover the footage it would not work.

He felt tired the next day and was still not sure if he had been dreaming or not when Bingle called him into the house.

- Tom, something terrible happened last night.

Bingle gestured for Tom to sit down and poured a glass of whiskey from the decanter on the table.

- Here, have one! You will need it!

Tom nearly choked on the drink when he heard Bingle’s voice.

- Jack Fox shot Charles Bourke last night!

- He caught him with his wife in the muddy paddock outside their house and went home to his place in the early morning hours. He is dead Tom. Dead!

Tom drew breath. Suddenly everything made sense. Even the things that had seemed to have no answer suddenly became as clear as day. It was his statues that had been moved around at night. They must have thought it was all a joke, cruel, yes. Having a laugh at Tom’s expense.

Charles Bourke and Judy were meeting up in Toms shed, drunk and acting like crazy teenagers carrying out their affair. Occasionally moving the statues around. Even the mud and mustard had an answer. At one point they messed with the two sculptures out front. Making jokes, making fun of Tom, and a host of other towns folk. Small town shenanigans. And now a real tragedy had happened. No, his sculptures were not coming to life. There was a much more rational answer to this, here in this small town nestled in the Tasmanian wilderness where nothing much ever happened.