Spectacles. What are they?
That is the question I found myself pondering this morning while searching for my own pair, which had mysteriously migrated from the kitchen counter to the floor beside my reading chair. Koko, of course, was sitting precisely three inches from where I discovered them, his eyes half-closed in that knowing way that suggests he had deduced their location long before I began looking. One might call it coincidence. One would be wrong.
Spectacles are, for those who require explanation, devices worn on the face. They help you see things. Do people appreciate them? Probably not enough.
I mention this topic because it seems relevant to Moose County, where a surprising number of residents have reported their reading glasses going missing in recent weeks. Chief Brodie assures me this is unrelated to the string of arsons on Sandpit Road or the two unsolved homicides near the Dimsdale Diner, which is perfectly reasonable for a town of three thousand. These things happen. Frequently. Often in my proximity, though I see no reason to dwell on that.
My moustache tingled when I first heard about the missing spectacles, which, as my readers know, is never insignificant. The Klingenschoen Fund has generously allocated resources toward a community vision-screening program, which I personally organized and which is, incidentally, fully tax-deductible as a charitable cultural initiative. I will not be purchasing refreshments for the event, however. The county can provide its own coffee. I am not made of money, despite what people assume simply because I inherited the largest fortune north of the Great Lakes.
Yum Yum, meanwhile, has taken to batting a small lens cloth under the refrigerator with an intensity that borders on scholarly. Is she trying to tell me something? Almost certainly. Are her instincts sharper than those of most humans in Pickax? I would not insult her by suggesting otherwise.
I should also note that someone has been stealing birdseed from the feeder outside the barn. Squirrels, allegedly, though I trust no one. If my cats disappear, I will know exactly whom to suspect, which is everyone.
Why do we need spectacles? To see clearly. And what do we see? That is the real question. Or perhaps it isn’t. I have reached my word count.
Spectacles.
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