Snow Job

We headed out for old King's Hill with our flyer sleds in tow when Mrs. Miller called us, "Can you first come shovel snow?" "Do the walks and do the steps, and do the driveway too, then you come up and see me and I'll pay you what you're due." We worked a couple hours and when the job was done we went to get our money and then we'd have our fun. "I really liked the job you did, I'll call you both next time." She reached into her change purse and gave us each a dime. "A dime!" I said, "Is that all? I think that we've been fleeced. Everyone knows a job like this is worth a buck apiece." "You'll get no buck apiece from me, this is all I'm going to pay. Get yourselves off my porch and be about your way." There was a smile upon her face, for two boys she did beat. She wasn't smiling anymore when the dimes fell at her feet. A couple of weeks came and went and then another snow. When she asked for us to dig, we politely told her no. She got mad, her face got red, she took it pretty hard, and with an oath to God above she banned us from her yard. Now every time after that if we would draw too near, she'd call up on the telephone and yell in poor dad's ear. She even took to blaming us for what other kids would do, now dad was getting tired, but we were tired too. We held up in our bedroom to come up with a plan to get the best of Mrs. M., oh boy, will this be grand. My brother had some black cats and a smile upon his face, "This is just the thing we need to put her in her place." "Black cats throw too big a spark we don't want to start a fire; lady fingers, don't you think Would be a whole lot wiser." "We're going to need an alibi when the deed is done, we don't want dad finding out and spoiling all our fun." Dad got home from work at four and supper was at five, we'd both be at the table when those fireworks came alive. Now to those lady fingers we added extra fusing, then tucked it in a cigarette, hey, this should be amusing. Just before we sat to eat we snuck out to her house, and left our package on her steps as quiet as a mouse. We were sitting at the table the food had all been passed, just when we started eating there was an awful blast. Three hundred lady fingers were giving up their lives, my brother looked at me and grinned, we had an air tight alibi. No sooner did the echoes fade, Mrs. M. was on the phone. "It couldn't be our boys," dad said, "they're both right here at home." She yelled a little louder, but dad was getting bold. Just before he slammed the phone he said, "My supper's getting cold." "We won't hear from her again," we heard our father say, "but stay out of her yard," he said, "when you go outside to play." That was in a hot July, but summer wouldn't last, fall was racing close behind in front of winter's blast. She never really knew for sure and I guessed she'd never know, but after that she paid a buck whenever someone cleared her snow.