The Pool

Bea moved her children's pool to give the grass a rest. Emptied, cleaned, refilled it blue innocent as summer sky. Squashed flat, the bedraggled body of a rat lay on the yellowed lawn. Its cold contaminated corpse, a seething mass of maggots. Rubber-gloved, she sealed it tight, into a freezer bag, which, in two days, expanded, then exploded in her bin. A green-eyed, ginger tomcat swirled around her neighbor's scrawny legs. Who raised, with folded arms against her fence, harsh comments on the smell. 'So', Bea thought, 'how did it die?' Then found her mouse-traps' bait all gone. And saw a mighty tunnel had been drilled right through the double garage wall. A pile of dry earth down below was sprinkled with fresh droppings. Thin-lipped, she poured out poisoned grain and left a box wide open. 'Help yourself' she laughed then locked her garage door. Quietly doing her daily chores. Delighting, as seeds disappeared. Until, Day Four, she was attacked, on entering the darkened room, by a hundred big black angry flies and the foul stench of mass murder. Once more, she moved the pool, this time at night and dug where the softest soil sat. A deep dark pit to hide her guilt. Five rats, three mice and next-doors' stupid cat.