Several months after I moved to Bouse in 2007, strange things began appearing in and around my house. I found a Robert Heinlein novel one morning when I made the bed. I changed those sheets plenty of times without finding any sci-fi.
Odd. I don’t read Heinlein.
One night I let down the blinds and a tiny sombrero tumbled out. The little hat gave me the giggles. When the cat came to see why I was laughing, I put the hat on his head and laughed until I was nearly blue.
The blinds had been going up and down daily for months without a single funny hat trick.
I vacuumed the bedroom and suddenly there was an awful rattling inside the machine. I turned it off and gave it a shake – a shiny brass key fell from the sweeper. I tried the key in all the locks but it did not fit anywhere.
I turned on the oven and black smoke filled the kitchen. The broiler pan was so greasy I thought it might burst into flames. I use the oven all the time, but not the broiler. Broiler-ing is beyond my skill-set, but still I keep it clean. (Cat, what are you up to when I’m away?)
Outside I find seashells, tiny toys, glass bottles, rusty things and beads. Every time the wind blows this acre of sugar sand shifts and I find little (plastic? Bakelite?) beads.
As I write this, something just made a loud smack! on a snare drum. Dogs woke and jumped to their feet barking but there was nothing near the drum.
April 24, night — A faucet outside turned on full blast. Water gushed loud enough to hear it inside the house over the surround sound. I rushed out to turn it off — This is a desert! No wasting water! — and looked around for the culprit. Nothing.
Is it me, or is there something goofy about this area? Take a look at my photos and please! Tell me what this all means?
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Cate Mueller is a web designer, editor, reporter and photographer in Bouse, Arizona. To visit her website, click here.