Before I went to bed just after midnight on
Monday morning, the bold raccoon that lives across the street had come out to
lap up the blonde circle of grain that someone had scattered to feed the birds
near the right side of A+ Sushi & Bibim. It didn’t even bother it as people
walked by except when one guy turned the corner with out looking and walked
straight towards the coon. The animal moved away and the man veered around but
after a cautious few seconds the unshy procyon returned to finish its midnight
snack.
In
the afternoon I started seeing notices by some of my Facebook Friends marking
themselves as safe “during the auto-pedestrian collision at Yonge Street and Finch
Avenue”. I didn’t really understand
what it was about.
That
afternoon I eschewed another shirt layer and went for a bike ride. This time I
only had my tank top underneath my motorcycle jacket but it was still too warm
for a long bike ride. I might wait until shorts weather arrives before I
venture out to Scarborough again. I did go a little further to Sherbourne, then
I turned and headed back west, going south on Spadina to Queen and then west
again to stop at Freshco on the way home to buy more grapes.
When
I got home I learned the reason for my Friends having marked themselves safe.
Someone had lost his mind and taken a rented van onto the sidewalk, using it to
kill ten pedestrians.
I
think that what is needed are metal posts dividing the sidewalk and the street
so that vehicles can’t cross over, but people can still walk between if they
need to cross the street or get into a car.
That
night I watched a bizarre, clever, funny and twisted Alfred Hitchcock Hour
teleplay entitled “See the Monkey Dance” starring Roddy McDowell as George, who
is on his way to the country to the country for a weekend with the beautiful
wife of a wealthy man. During a brief station stop, George calls his lover to
tell him he’ll be there soon, but when he returns to his compartment there is a
stranger, also unnamed (played by Efrem Zembalist Jr. speaking in a fake
British accent) that is now sharing the space with him. George begins to read a
book but the stranger remarks that his behaviour is typical. He asks, “So you’re
going to read are you?” “I beg your pardon?” The stranger repeats his question
mockingly and adds, “I said, as you well know, so you’re going to read are
you?” “I was thinking of it.” “Typical! Here it comes!” “If you don’t mind!”
“If you don’t mind, right on cue! No I don’t mind! It’s probably all for the
best! Typical!” “What is so typical, if I may ask?” “Ask away!” “Well?” “Well
what? You were going to ask me something. You said, if I may ask. You are
typical. That’s what is typical!” “Now just exactly how do you know that I am
typical?” “Because everything you do is just what one would expect you to do.”
“All right then, I am typical. Now that’s just one more thing in life that we
shall have to put up with, isn’t it? Now …” “Here is comes!” “If you don’t mind
…” “If you don’t mind! It used to be frightfully upper class, if you don’t
mind. An aristocratic approbation, ever so genteel. If you don’t mind! But
actually right now my boy it’s become rather vulgar and I’d rather you didn’t
use it, if you don’t mind!” “Now look here, will you please tell me if you have
decided to annoy me until we reach the next station? Because if so I shant try
to read at all!” “I’m not trying to annoy you!” “Well, let me put it this way,
you have succeeded without trying!” “But I certainly didn’t think I was
annoying you!” “Well you were!” “But I’m not now am I?” “Would you like
something to read or are you too drunk?” “I’m not drunk!” “Well then you should
see a psychologist!” “I have something to read, thank you!” “All right then why
don’t you read it?” “Very well!” The stranger opens his briefcase and says,
“You don’t have to take that attitude!” In the case is a book, beside which is
a revolver, which George does not see. The stranger takes out the book and
closes the case, declaring, “It’s typical of your kind to be rude to
strangers!” and then he begins to cry. “Are you all right?” “Yes!” “Are you
sure?” “Yes! I’m sorry I annoyed you. I’m really not like that. Please forgive
me!” “That’s quite all right!” “I work too hard you see?” “Oh, that’s a common
fault these days.” “When the pressure comes off I have a tendency to go
boyishly hysterical.” “I see.” “I’ve been to the psychologists and they say
it’s a perfectly normal reaction to my sort of work.” “I see.” “I’m dreadfully
sorry!” “Oh that’s quite all right!” “I’m a physicist.” “Oh, how interesting!”
“I’m afraid that’s all the ministry will allow me to say about it.” “I’m in the
brokerage business myself. The city.” “Ow!” “Oh, nothing but high pressure! I
don’t think I could stick it myself these days if I didn’t have a little place
in the country I could go to, near Landrin!” “Near Landrin?” “Yes.” “That’s a
coincidence! I have a place myself near Landrin!” “Really!” “Yes! Isn’t it a
charming little town?” “Oh now, I said that I had a place near Landrin.
Actually, that does make it sound rather grand, doesn’t it? Really, you see,
well, I have a caravan.” A caravan is what we in Canada would call a trailer.
“I have it parked on the edge of a field over the town …” “A caravan?” “Yes.”
“You have a caravan?” “Yes.” “Isn’t that a laugh?” “Well I don’t use it very
often! Well I don’t see what there is that’s so f8nny about having a caravan
however!” “No, no, no! The fact is I have a caravan too!” The stranger says
that his caravan is also on the edge of a farm. When George names the farmer
the stranger claims to be also on the same property. When George names the part
of the farm he’s on the stranger says he’s in the same place. George says the
caravan belongs to him but the stranger says the farmer is leasing the caravan
to him. The stranger insists that it’s also his caravan. George starts to
realize the stranger is crazy. The stranger says, “You’re pretending to own my
caravan just to see the monkey dance!” George says there are yellow curtains on
the window that he put up himself. The stranger shouts, “I put those curtains
up!” “Your repeating my own words back to me. You’re crazy! I have the key!
Would I have the key to your caravan?” The stranger searches his own pockets
and asks accusingly, “How did you get that key? When you lit my cigarette you
picked my pocket didn’t you? Give me that key you swine!” They stand and fence,
George with his umbrella and the stranger with his cane, but George pokes him
with the umbrella and he falls back to the bench, clutching his stomach. The train pulls into Landrin and George gets
out. The stranger follows him, limping. On the edge of town the stranger steals
a shovel that is sticking out from a construction site beside the path. George
arrives at his caravan, goes inside and locks the door. The stranger gets there
a few seconds later and in front of the caravan begins to dig with the shovel.
George opens his window and asks, “What are you digging that hole for?” “I’m
digging this hole for you George.” “For me?” “I may dig another for your
girlfriend, but I haven’t made up my mind about that yet.” “What girlfriend?”
“She’ll be along in a little while.” “Oh, all right then, I do have a
girlfriend! What business is it of yours? Oh! I suppose that I must not bring
my girlfriend into your caravan, is that it?” “It isn’t my caravan. I was just
fooling you. I didn’t know where it was. I wanted to make sure you would lead
me to it.” “Who are you?” “Take a guess George.” “Her husband.” The stranger
just looks at him. After several minutes the grave-shaped hole gets deeper and
George comes out of the trailer. “Look here old man, it was just one of those
things and I’m awfully sorry that it had to happen.” “I’m going to kill you
George. Shortly after, when she arrives, I may kill her as well.” George comes
to the door with a bottle and two glasses. “Would you like a drink?” He begins
to step outside but the stranger says he’d rather he didn’t come any closer.
“Why?” Because you can run faster than I can and I don’t want you to get away
as the last one did!” “Now see here!” “There’s a gun in this case! I’ll use it
if you step out of that doorway! Is she nice to you by the way?” “If you love
your wife how can you possibly ask me that?” “I merely ask because she treated
her last boyfriend most abominably! Like he was some sort of animal! Earth
under her feet! He felt sorry for him myself!” George looks shocked. “Oh, you
didn’t know there’d been others. Come to think of it, it’s harder for a
boyfriend to find that out than a husband, really! There’s so much ego involved
in being a lover! A husband doesn’t have to go on proving anything. I set out
to kill the last one and I certainly would have but for an unfortunate
occurrence.” “What happened?” “I hadn’t practiced using the gun. I missed and
hit him in the leg. Ironic, because I understand he’s got a limp today just
like mine! Here, you dig for a while! Keep your mind off things!” “Me?” The
stranger is pointing the gun at George. “Yeah, hop in there!” George
reluctantly begins to dig, but in his anger he puts his back into it. He begins
to try to reason with the stranger and tells him that we don’t kill the lovers
of wives anymore. “A hundred years ago they thought of a woman as a profession,
like your horse. If a man stole your wife or your horse you shot him, but not
anymore. A man doesn’t own a wife today. More likely she owns him.” The
stranger points the gun against and commands George to keep digging. The
stranger hears the sound of a car approaching and thinks it’s their woman. He
forces George into the trailer. George asks him how he knew about their
weekend. He answers that he read George’s letter to her. George insists that
he’s never written her a letter in his life. The stranger shows him the letter
and when George sees it he smiles because it’s not his handwriting. The
stranger begins reading it out loud and George tells him it sounds like the way
she writes. The stranger asks, “Why would she write a letter to herself, sign
your name and then go to the trouble of mailing it and have me find it?” “She
knew you’d try to kill me. You’d hang if you killed me. That way she would be
rid of both of us.” “It was the same last time! That other poor devil that I
shot in the leg! It was a letter that time too!” George has decided he doesn’t
want anything more to do with her and gets ready to leave. The stranger says,
“When she does kill me, of course you’ll be involved again and I’ll apologize
for that in advance.” George comes back in and asks, “How do you mean I will be
involved again?” “You’re her boyfriend. You have a motive. They’re bound to
suspect you. If I know her she’ll do her best to make it look as though you’re
the guilty one.” “What are we going to do?” “We could kill her.” “That way we
would be hanged.” “No, there’s another way. You know that steep hill leading
down into the town? It’s a very windy and tricky road. That’s our solution.”
Next we see the woman in her sports car on her way to George’s trailer as
George hides in the bushes. She knocks and then enters the trailer only to find
the stranger. She asks, “What are you doing here? Where’s George?” “George is
gone.” “What do you mean he’s gone?” “I roughed him up a bit and he fled.” She
laughs. “Who are you kidding? You couldn’t rough up a blanket, you
coward!” “We had a little talk and he
left.” “If you’ve turned him against me I’ll kill you!” “He agreed that I have
some prior rights to you, since your husband doesn’t go away so often.” “Any
more nonsense from you and I’ll have my husband put a kink in your other leg!”
Meanwhile, George is sabotaging the wheels on his girlfriend’s car. She leaves
the trailer. George is back in the bushes. She drives away. Minutes later
George and the stranger hear the crash. George asks, “What do we do now?” The
stranger says he’s leaving but advises George to fill in the grave and to get
rid of the parts that he’d removed from the woman’s car. George says, “Unless
you help me I am going to tell the police that it was her husband that helped
me!” “You do that George. You tell them that her husband gave you a hand.” “Who
are you? You’re not her husband!” “Did I say I was?” The stranger leaves and
George desperately tries to fill up the hole and bury the evidence, but two
cops arrive just then and see everything.
Patricia
Medina played the unnamed wife. She was married to Joseph Cotton.
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