It’s early Spring, and I’ve recently planted all the vegetables that I had started in my greenhouse outside. I can’t tell you how much I looked forward to eating freshly picked vegetables, tomatoes, peppers, and herbs.

Every morning I walk outside filled with anticipation, loving every minute of the hard work, the heat, the rain, the weeding. And watching the bees slowly buzzing over the plants and landing on the flowers that have recently bloomed. I imagine the bees are in some sort of drunken stupor from the overwhelming array of smells as they hover and land so lightly upon the plants that surround them.

I take a deep breath. I feel slightly lightheaded. Even though I have gardened almost the entirety of my adult life, I still feel the same joy I felt the first time I saw a plant growing and peeking out from the earth that was merely a tiny seed ten days before.

 The time flew by in what seemed moments, and I saw some of the watermelons growing larger by the day. I could almost taste their sweet nectar upon my lips. Every day that passed drew me closer to that moment when I could enjoy the fruits of my labor. And then the horror began.

One Saturday morning, I stepped outside on my screened-in porch, and I saw what appeared to be one of my watermelons in the middle of the yard. But how could that be? How in the world could that happen? This was the very watermelon that was so close to being ripe. It was huge. How could anything but a human being pick it up and carry it out into the middle of my yard? And then abandon it. What kind of warped individual would commit such a crime against nature, against me? Who, who would do it? I could not imagine.

 We live in a small community with only about twenty homes. And my neighbors made a practice of keeping to themselves. They rarely even pass the time of day if they see you outside in your yard. I was lucky if they even waved. After six years, I only knew the names of a few of our neighbors.

I slipped my gardening boots on and ran out into the yard in my pajamas I hadn’t even put on my gardening clothes. I was in such a shocking state of mind I forgot I hadn’t gotten dressed yet. I felt as if I was looking at the remnants of a murder committed in my own backyard.

I ran through the wet grass. It had rained heavily the night before. And looked down at my fallen watermelon. And it had huge bites taken out of it. I could not comprehend why anyone would do such a thing. It was bad enough that he or she would steal from my garden. But, to then take bites out of it and then leave it to rot in the middle of my backyard was impossible to take in. I was baffled.

I felt such anger well up in my heart in mind. I felt my temples throbbing, and my face felt flushed. The only time I felt this angry was when I was in my last year of college, and my teacher told me that my latest story was the work of a person who had no clue how to write or had any creativity. He failed me for the semester, and I had to retake the course. And then one of my classmates told me that self-same teacher just had a story published in a magazine. And it was almost an exact copy of my story word for word.

This is how angry I felt today. Someone had taken one of my creations that I worked and sweated for and destroyed it, desecrated it. I silently promised myself that I would seek revenge on whoever was responsible for this crime against nature.

When I returned back to my house, I called up my best friend Beth and told her the whole story. She listened quietly without interrupting. And then she said, “.Elizabeth, try and calm down; you’re going to have a stroke if you don’t calm down. Try to put this in perspective. It was just a watermelon. I’m sure that you planted more than one. I know how much you love gardening and look; the fruits of your hard work are like children to you. But think about it, you were going to eat it. And there will be another melon to take its place.”

“What? Just another watermelon. How can you say that? I planned my garden all winter. I spent hours and days preparing the soil, planting the seeds, watching them, and watering them. “

“You’re right, Elizabeth, but what’s done is done. You just have moved forward. Try not to let this affect you so much. Try to move forward. Maybe you could put some kind of net over the garden to prevent further damage.”

“You’re right, Beth. I will have to find a protocol to prevent this from ever happening. I will set up traps all over my yard if need be.”

“OK, don’t get carried away. You can be injuring any of your neighbors because of a watermelon, Beth.”

“Alright, I won’t harm anyone, but I will certainly put the fear of god into them if it’s the last thing I do on earth. I will make them regret the day they came into my yard, my garden, and designated it.”

“You are still sounding unhinged; go in your house, get a shower, get dressed, and eat some breakfast. Maybe your blood sugar is too low. And then call me later, maybe we could go out to dinner and a movie later. Take your mind off of the watermelon. Call me after your shower, and we’ll make plans, OK?”

I called Elizabeth later, and she wasn’t home. I left her a message and said I was calmed down and that maybe we could make plans for later in the week. I decided that I would have a surveillance system put on the exterior of my home, and I would find out who the culprit was. And when I did, I would make them regret the day they were born. The next day they arrived bright and early and set up the surveillance system. I could watch my yard anytime I wanted to, and somehow they had connected it to my cell phone, and I would be able to check out my yard 24 hours a day if need be. I was stoked.

If there were any signs of someone on my property, I would receive a message on my cell phone. For five days, there was nothing. But I remained on edge. I had trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. I was confident that whoever it was would return to rob me again. And so I waited and waited for something, anything to happen.

And then, on Sunday night, as I was sleeping soundly in my bed, my cell phone went off with a high-pitched sound that woke me from the first sound sleep I had had in almost a week. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I did jump out of my bed and looked out my back bedroom window that faced my garden. I saw nothing. It was pitch dark.

So, I put on my shoes and my robe to protect myself from the mosquitoes and headed out the back door. And low and behold, I saw someone or something moving. But, it was too small to be a human. What, what could it be? And then I saw four or five smaller shapes moving behind the larger one. Good lord, what could be going on? I couldn’t fathom it. I slowly moved toward the moving shapes. Trying to be as stealthy as I could, considering my size.

As I got closer to them, I pulled my small flashlight out of my pocket and shined the light on the moving shapes. And when I did that, I saw one large and five sets of smaller eyes glowing red in the dark night. The larger of the group stood up on his hind back legs, and low and behold. I saw before me a Raccoon. The largest one I’ve ever seen. Behind her were five smaller versions of her, baby raccoons.

They looked eerie in the flashlight, and as soon as they saw me, the mother raccoon made a weird squealing noise, and they all took off like bats out of hell towards the back fence. And off they went. If they ever returned, I saw little evidence of it. Every once in a while, there would be some missing vegetable but never a watermelon again. I decided I was willing to part with the odd vegetable or so. She did have a family to feed, after all.

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