DON'T TOUCH THAT BOX!

DON’T TOUCH THAT BOX!

It just   appeared there yesterday. That was the  morning I got up and found “it” on my doorstep. Lets call it “it”.  Let’s not allow “ it “ to get away with sounding innocuous or provocative or inviting or anything like that, by my calling it “the box”, or worse, “my box” ’. It is not my box!  To my way of thinking, the Unknown is often synonymous with the unsavoryMaybe that is the case here.   Okay, it isn’t like it is a corpse or a dead skunk or strewn garbage lhying there.  Nothing like that.  “It” is a box in plain everyday brown wrapping paper, square and ordinary looking. Maybe even something that would look trustworthy to some people. But not to me. I am not some people.  To my way of thinking, Ordinary can be extraordinarily dangerous. Well, that’s just you, I can hear you say. That is plain ridiculous. It’s just a box. Go ahead an open it!

Yes, that is just me! And  I am the “me” who doesn’t open my door to strangers. The “me” that doesn’t respond to unrecognized emails or text messages. They go right in the trash where they belong. I am a cautious man.

I never pick up the phone to talk to possibly dangerous or wildly unscrupulous outsiders, either. That box could be both dangerous and from an unscrupulous outsider.

After all, it is not Christmas or Easter or Valentine’s Day. Or April fool’s day. And it is certainly not my birthday. So I am not wanting or expecting a gift, (if that what “it” is pretending to be).  I am not anticipating  a surprise from anyone I know. Life has enough surprises without adding one more, would you agree?  And how many surprises in life are good ones?  Like ‘surprise, your car has been recalled’, or ‘surprise, here’s your vacuum cleaner back, we can’t repair it’. Or ‘surprise, you didn’t win the lottery. Again.’

Strange boxes, unwanted unasked-for boxes can contain hazardous, even gruesome things. Bombs, explosives, sharp objects, weapons, even dead animals. I could go on.

I once read about a box, not unlike that one that sits out there on my porch, that when opened contained the head of a dog, a wired hair terrier! The man who opened it has never been the same. Sadly, he was the owner of a living wired hair terrier himself. What a gruesome surprise. And did you hear  about the package that some poor elderly woman up in Maine opened that contained a woman’s hand with bright blood-red manicured nails?  Imagine what damage that surprise did to the poor woman’s psyche! I bet the world is full of psychos leaving boxes on strangers’ porches and sneaking them into their mailboxes! Imagine if I was sitting down to have breakfast and I saw a box on my front step (like today) and I brought it in to open it up (because I was imagining something wonderful like a pair of bedroom slippers from my sister or a box of my favorite cigars from my niece) and what I found inside  was a hand grenade ready to explode or a sharp dagger face- up that would sink into my hand as I pulled the packing paper away, Or a box of chocolates that contained razor blades! Imagine the shock and all the blood?  Or what if the box was full of fireworks ready to explode as soon as I opened the top? I know it’s against the law to mail fireworks but you know there are plenty pranksters that thumb their nose at the law. I would sleep better if all  surprises were just outlawed.  Even surprise parties, especially surprise parties. I always hated those, too.

Maybe “it” is out there because someone has it in for me? But who? Alice? No, she has barely spoken with me since our divorce? Conklin at the office?  He was happy I resigned, but he doesn’t hold that incident in the corporate dining room against me. No, not likely that he would try to injure or kill me because I accidently set fire to the kitchen curtains. Or would he? Now that I think about it, maybe I need a motion detector out there, and not just that, but a guard dog like Ed has next door, to guard he property and more specifically to keep strange boxes from being left at my door. A big slobbering pitbull or a German Shepherd would do the trick. Unless the dog turned turned on me. Or was too lazy to scare anyone away. Ed’s dog is not that off-putting come to think of it. Especially if you scratch his ears. He tends to fall asleep.

Maybe I need to speak to the authorities. Maybe I should waste no time in having” it removed safely and professionally from my property. I should call the police or the bomb squad or homeland security, r maybe the FBI? I wonder if they would tell me what was inside? Let me know what kind of accident or death I escaped by turning “it” in? Maybe I would even get a reward from the authorities for protecting myself and hell, my neighbors from a terrible accident. From fatalities even?

I can see  It’s still out there. I wonder if someone is watching my  house from across the street. Waiting for me to go out there like a fool and pick “it” up like it’s as harmless as the morning paper. Well, I am not that big a fool!

Wait. Someone is at the door. Oh, thank God, it is the mailman, not a stranger. I’ll ask Andy if he knows how to get in touch a with the  county SWAT team.

“Andy, Andy you are just in time. No, don’t touch that box, don’t pick it up. Keep your distance.”

“Oh, that is why I’m here. It’s about that box, Jim.  Did you fill it yet? You know Thanksgiving is coming up. “

“Fill it? Are you crazy? I haven’t even touched it. “

“Oh, no problem Jim, In fact, I’m happy to hear you are giving it some thought. You know at this time of year, the needy are grateful for any canned or boxed foods you want to put inside. But the   gifts you have given some thought to, those are the best! Maybe you’d even like a second box to fill?

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