Mystery and Mirth

Salmonella Cake "Dad, I'm telling you. She said she was serving "salmonella cake". I understand English very well thank you." My daughter Sandy sniffed after stating this sentiment as if dismissing me, her big oaf of a clueless father, out of hand. "Salmonella is a bacteria, Sandy," my wife interceded on my behalf. "Surely you misunderstood?" "How could I misunderstand that, Mom? And she giggled after she said it. She's slowly poisoning Mr. Hardwicke and no one in this neighborhood is going to do a thing about it. Including my big shot attorney father." Sandy stormed off in a huff. Once again I looked at my wife and gave a big sigh of exasperation over our dilemma with the Hardwickes. Because something was surely wrong with Bart Hardwicke and any fool could see it quite plainly. The man grew more gray and ashen with each passing day yet entreaties from all who knew him were pooh-poohed. I am hardly a "big-shot" attorney as my daughter described me disdainfully. I do have a small law firm in the little town of Orion, Pa. Mostly we handle typical small town stuff, house settlements, title searches, wills, leases, that sort of thing. However, I was a father who wanted his children to be proud of him and at some point I knew I was going to have to do something drastic about the problem with Bart Hardwicke. If not to regain some pride in my children's eyes, but also because like I told Martha, damn, Bart Hardwicke was dying right before our eyes! Now the story of my episode in the trash can is not funny no matter how often my kids ask me to tell it all again. Not that they ever paid much attention to me before the incident but now I am not, as I rightfully should be, the hero of the affair. Oh no. I, John M. Worthington Esq. am the butt of adolescent jokes all because of my few minutes inside a trash can including a small side trip down the banks and into the Pawnee Creek. I did save Bart Hardwicke's life but no one wants to talk about that.