I walked outside.
So did several other neighbors.
Clark stood on his porch holding the enlarged picture.
His face was bright red.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
I folded my arms.
“I think asking privately didn’t work.”
He opened the box.
The first few neighbors probably assumed it was only about the gasoline.
Then Mrs. Delgado walked over from across the street and glanced at my list.
Her forehead wrinkled.
“Pressure washer?”
“He borrowed mine.”
She looked at me.
Then at Clark.
“But he borrowed mine too.”
That sentence changed everything.
Clark spun toward her.
“Yours wasn’t working right.”
“It was working perfectly when I gave it to you.”
Before Clark could answer, Tom walked over.
He looked at the list.
“Ladder?”
Then he glanced toward Clark’s garage.
“Wait a second.”
Everybody followed his eyes.
A yellow ladder was leaning against the garage wall.
Tom pointed.
“That’s my ladder.”
Clark threw both hands into the air.
“I was going to return it.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Soon.”
Mrs. Delgado suddenly pointed toward another object.
“Is that my extension cord?”
Clark looked toward the garage.
That was his mistake.
Because once everybody started looking, everybody started remembering.
