TheNarrowRoadPursued

The Else family resides in a town not too far from here.  In fact, you may know them as your neighbors.  They are five in number: Pa, Ma, and three teenage sons.  The eldest boy is lanky and possesses one of those voices that is easily heard even in the midst of a noisy crowd.  The middle boy is a studious fellow, of average height and build.  He wears glasses just for show.  He thinks the spectacles make him appear intelligent and serious.  The youngest is pudgy in every way.  Ma hates it when people use that word to describe her son, especially when it is one of the older brothers speaking, but if anyone better fits the picture, he is yet to be found.

Since the boys are more than old enough to be left alone for the day, Ma and Pa often leave for town to do their errands and to purchase the enormous amounts of food necessary to feed their boys.  The young men are left with a list of things to be accomplished around the house.

Pa always says the same thing before he and Ma would climb into their rust-eaten Chevy pickup truck, “Boys, a friend of mine may be dropping by.  Make sure you let him in and treat him to some of Ma’s chess pie.  Tell him we will be back in a little while.  Remember to keep an eye on the property so that no mischief happens.  Do your chores.  Idle hands are the devil’s marketplace.  Keep busy boys.”  The boys rarely said anything in response, but always nodded in respectful assent.

This is an account of one of those days.

No sooner than the truck was out of sight, the three boys began to laze around the house.  Several hours passed, the youngest two had nearly finished watching a second movie on the television and the oldest boy was in a marathon conversation with his girlfriend on the telephone.

It was precisely at this time that Pa’s friend, Mr. Opportunity, came to the Else’s kitchen door.  A polite, gentlemanly fellow who normally walked everywhere he visited,  Opportunity arrived quietly so the boys did not hear him come up the drive.  He knocked on the door glass with his signature, “Rat-a-tat-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat-tat.” Pa’s friend waited patiently to be invited inside.

The oldest boy heard the rapping, covered the phone with palm of his hand and yelled to his brother, “Anybody, answer the door!”  Now Anybody Else was a typical middle child and he despised being told what to do.  So he ignored his older brother and the “Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat,” sound just a few feet away.  Somebody Else continued to hear the tapping so he yelled more loudly, “Anybody, answer THE DOOR!”

Anybody was unmoved.  He thought to himself, “If the door is to be answered, Nobody is going to have to do it.”  So he kicked his younger brother in the ribs, waking him from his normal stupor.  “See who is at the door,” he barked.

Unfortunately the youngest earned “pudgy” by being consistently slothful.  He took his time meandering to the door.  Even though Nobody’s trip was a short one, Mr. Opportunity had ample time to decide no one was home and to retreat back down the drive.  Nobody opened the door and the porch was empty.  Nobody shrugged and yelled back at the eldest brother, “Hey, there’s no one here.  Stop bugging us, we’re watching a movie.”

Somebody heard what his brother said even over the cooing voice on the other end of the line.  Not known for his deep thinking, Somebody made a mental note to ignore any future knocking sounds.  This would be, of course, a terrible mistake.

Mr. Tragedy was next to visit the Else estate.  Unlike the prior visitor his preferred mode of transportation was a sports car, large of engine and loud in exhaust.  All three of the boys knew another visitor had arrived.  Like Mr. Opportunity, Tragedy came to the kitchen door.  Rather than knock, he banged,   “Thud, thud, thud.”

Somebody ignored the noise, just as he purposed to do.  Nobody rolled over on his back and mumbled to Anybody, “It’s your turn to answer the door. Go see who it is.”  Anybody just turned up the volume on the television.

Tragedy, not being a gentlemen of any sort, turned the door knob and let himself into the Else’s home.  Somebody actually saw Tragedy enter, but didn’t want to tell his girl he had to end their conversation, so he decided that it was Anybody’s problem to deal with the stranger wandering about.  “After all,” Somebody thought, “Pa had told Anybody to make sure mischief wasn’t happening while he was gone.”

True to form, Tragedy made a terrible mess of things.  He knocked Ma’s chess pie onto the kitchen floor, breaking the plate into a hundred pieces.  He took some drain cleaner from under the sink and poured it over Pa’s leather easy chair.  The caustic fluid immediately caused smoke to curl upward toward the ceiling as it ate away on Pa’s chair.

The Else’s were a careful bunch, so linked smoke detectors were located in every room.  It was only a matter of moments before the whole house was full of the distinct screeching of alarm.  The sudden noise scared Somebody senseless and he dropped the phone, breaking the handset.  Next, Somebody smelled the smoke and began to scream nearly incoherently, “Anybody, what’s on fire, what’s on fire, what’s on FIRE?”

Anybody, unmotivated by his older brother’s panic, simply kicked Nobody in the ribs again.  “Go see what’s on fire.”  Nobody rolled over with a grunt, got to his feet and shuffled to the living room.  Tragedy pulled the books off shelves and rummaged through the hall closet.  Nobody cried out, “Anybody, come help quick!”

Anybody chose not to come.

Nobody yelled, “Somebody please come help!”  Somebody heard his brother, but paralyzed by fear, he remained fixed in place.

Since there was no response from either brother, Nobody decided there was nothing to be done about the situation.  He calmly sat down in a nearby chair and watched with fascination as Tragedy continued his nefarious work.

Fortunately, Pa arrived home before Tragedy could do much more damage and chased the villain from his home.  Pa silenced the smoke alarms and quickly surveyed the house for any other dangers.

“What is going on here?” Pa bellowed.  The boys, knowing they were in a load of trouble quickly assembled themselves in a pathetic line, “front and center.”

“Where is Mr. Opportunity? Who let that man in here?  How come nothing is done I told you to do?”

“Well, Pa,” Somebody said sheepishly, “Anybody can tell you exactly what happened.”

Anybody glared at his older brother.  Even though he was famous for his quick wit, he couldn’t conjure any suitable story under the present circumstance, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

“It’s Nobody’s fault,” he said pointing an accusing finger in the face of his brother.  Nobody remained silent, his placid countenance unchanged.

The moral of the story is simple:  When Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody Else are left unattended, Opportunity will knock and not be answered, Tragedy will strike and not be confronted, and even the simplest chores will not be completed.