The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

The mansion down the street burned the other night. This thing was 8 or 10 thousand square feet, large compared to even the McMansions going up around us, a behemoth that has been in progress the last couple years after the owner leveled the old house and began construction on the bluff. Not a bad house, the one they tore down, but hey, why buy a vacant piece of real estate, same as the folks who build next to old firs and cedars, then saw them down. Probably couldn’t find a place already clearcut, I guess. But if you were to ask them, they would all say they moved here for the beautiful trees and forests, just don’t want them anywhere too near.

We don’t get a lot of house fires around here anymore now that most people quit heating with wood stoves so naturally a mansion fire rises right to the top of the gossip grapevine. Did the owner run out of money, couldn’t pay the bills, maybe decide …? But naw, they owned other homes in high priced areas, probably money wasn’t an issue. Did the painters on a Friday night toss rags in a corner and head early down to Happy Hour? Could some environmentalist have taken issue with the Gatsby excess of tearing down one house to build a castle big enough for ten South Enders? Should the Mabana fire station have been manned at night? All these rumors flying around probably could spark another inferno of innuendo and fear mongering. Is there an arsonist among us?

The castle on the north end torched a few years back had a sheet with ELF hand written on it for the fire inspectors to find. Earth Liberation Front, eco terrorists, bad actors wreaking vengeance on those who use too much of the earth’s resources, the price to pay for unmitigated greed. But the investigators ruled that out right away, not ELF’s modus operandi. Probably some unpaid subcontractor, one rumor had it, but in the end, nobody was arrested. And, until now, no other houses were set ablaze.

We may never know what set off that blaze up the road. The burnt out hulk of the mansion stands eerily out in its field, partial walls charred, fireplace still standing, a dystopian vision of things to come? or just a dream deferred? We all hope it wasn’t arson, but we all know too that bad luck can stalk us all. The ruins of that neighbor’s house are stark reminders of our own fragility, that even the rich will not be spared. Course, after the smoke settles and the insurance claims too, we got another few years of hammering and sawing next door.

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