This is Deputy Digby Pancake. Leave it to me to find out the source of all of our problems the last few days. Many may think that a Deputy only sleeps on the job. Or that a Deputy has only pancakes on his mind. But leave me to my thoughts in a hot Big Blue Treat Wagon RV without any air, because everything is self destructing, and a bowl of your finest maple syrup water, and I tell you this. I will find out the source of all of this commotion and our inability to move out of Memaw Macaw’s driveway. Even if my own brother from a different mother is responsible. You. Heard. Me.
We may have all been blamed for something that we did not do at one time. Monday, we blamed the vacuum. We blamed the rain.
We blamed it all that we could not move this Big Blue Treat Wagon RV. But Sheriff Brickle crossed the line.
Now I know that Sheriff Brickle gets blamed a lot for what I do, but that is not the point here. Because all of that has come full circle. Sabotaging the Big Blue Treat Wagon RV so that it can’t move is not acceptable just to protect a hole of dirt that if you dig down through the center of the earth will have you on the other side of the earth. I don’t have a map. I can’t give details on where it would be at.
Now, I like my dirt hole too. Sure, it isn’t as big as the Sheriff’s, or his attitude. But my “no trespassing” sign fits just right. And who can complain about that?
It is not like I wanted to leave my dirt hole, so I understand why Sheriff Brickle is melancholy about leaving his. But that is no excuse for framing the innocent. Tommy Cat.
Tommy Cat was just being a Tommy Cat the whole time we were here. And I probably think that he didn’t like his yard being dug up. But hey, he has to move anyway next week with Memaw and Lele. And I think it was pretty nice of him that he didn’t complain about it. So for Sheriff Brickle to break the RV so that we could stay in this dirt pit forever was just not nice. Blaming Tommy Cat was even not nicer. But Sheriff Brickle always means business. And he laid down the law in the only way he knew how. By sabotage. And I don’t even have a dictionary to see what that means. I just know that it’s the only thing I can come up with. Because it sounds right. Like maple syrup dripping down a pancake.
Now, despite all of the chaos here with Boy Person under the RV trying to fix it, Girl Person packing then unpacking all of the wine, and Memaw Macaw talking to anyone that would listen about her prized knick knacks, I had to talk to Brickle about this. I had to talk to the Sheriff. I had to let him know that I knew. And that I was not going to be in cahoots about this. I didn’t have the energy to give a hoot about cahoots. So as I decided on my best line of questioning, I saw Sheriff Brickle squirming, but he didn’t admit a thing. I saw him a little, well, uncomfortable in that dirt hole. And as he got up, he decided to say no words. He only went to Memaw Macaw’s house and the door opened. Not the front door, but the back door. You never use the front door around here.
Then out came Lele.
Lele was looking quite the part. The part of a conspirator. And when I saw the the cahoots between them, I knew it to be true. There was more than one sabotager here. There was a cahootin team of cahooters giving the RV air bubbles in the lines making it overheat. But not one cahooter could do this. There was a team. And I knew that I, as Deputy, was alone on this one. But what would I do to save the day? Could I save the day? Would I find out the truth? Will we leave today? Only time will tell. Stay tuned.
P.S. I would tell the perps to come clean, but ain’t nobody clean around here in this dirt pit.
-Deputy Digby Pancake
A big thank you to the folks at Hanna Park in Jacksonville, Florida for being so flexible with our arrival!