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Friday Slide Show: The Cherub Caper
4 December 2020
As soon as Detective Nick Nessuno arrived on the scene, he turned off the car radio. He'd been listening to Terry Gross on Fresh Air but if you happened to ask him who she had been interviewing, he wouldn't have been able to remember. He was distracted.
But not distracted enough to forget to turn off the radio before turning off the ignition. He didn't want to get back in the car, turn on the ignition and get blasted by the radio. So he always turned the radio off before turning the car off.
Then he went back to being distracted, trying to get out of the car without first removing his seat belt. He cursed the seat belt, which clung to him as he tumbled out of the car, found his feet and straightened up.
He went around to the alley to gain access to the crime scene.
It wasn't the first time he'd been here. The little old lady who lived on the property had been calling every week to complain that her cherub had been assaulted in the night.
Who would assault a cherub in the night? That's what Nessuno wanted to know.
The little old lady was not just fond of the cherub. She depended on the angelic presence to guard her small backyard garden against predators known and unknown.
He looked around for someone to help out but all he could find was a petrified monkish fellow who was comically short.
Instead, the winged creature had obviously been caught offguard and bulldozed by some overpowering force and the garden, Nessuno observed, was the worse for it.
Everything was askew. The neighbor's wheelbarrow. The door knobs on the side door. The trees were even growing crooked.
Not to mention the weeds. They were overtaking the place.
Nessuno stepped gingerly over the flagstone as he inspected the scene. It didn't take him long to find the cherub. He'd taken the brunt of whatever rammed over him, all right. Not a pretty sight.
He noticed a loose board in the tall fence and thought that must have been where the murderous intruder had gotten in. And out. It would have to be secured. And the cherub attended to. His police training had taught him that much.
But Nessuno didn't like to get his hands dirty. He ate with his hands, after all.
He looked around for someone to help out but all he could find was a petrified monkish fellow who was comically short. And didn't return his greeting.
He went back to the car to get his smartphone, which he kept in the glove compartment because it was government issue. He only had room in his pants for his personal phone, which he never used.
No one would believe this, he said to himself. He wasn't talking about the condition of the garden or the fate of the cherub, though. He was talking about the undeniable fact that he was working through lunch time.
Which the photos would corroborate.
He had trouble shooting the wheel barrow. In fact, all the askew subjects made him break out in a sweat. "This is no good," he said to himself.
But when he got back to the garden, he almost dropped the smartphone in shock. The place was transformed.
Flowers were blossoming. He didn't know their names (they'd never been formally introduced) but they were attractive all the same. Sometimes things are more attractive if you don't know their names, he thought. He made a note of that on his smartphone using his thumbs in case it was profound.
But it wasn't just flowers. The weeds were gone. The place looked presentable.
And the little cherub was back on his butt guarding the place with a grin on his cherubic face as if to say, "How do you like them apples, Nick?"
He took a few more shots for his report and went back to the car again. This time there was no stopping him. He'd passed a Burger King on the way over and that was where he planned to work on his report.
It was going to be a whopper.
