Free Dear God by Josephine Falla Page B

lawnmower, covered with a protective sheeting, a spade, a garden fork and a pair of rather rusty old shears, together with an assortment of gardening equipment, bundles of string, gardening gloves, baskets, plastic bins, bags and various bottles and packages containing stuff to make things grow and stuff to kill off things that are already growing.
    “Bingo, Ginger,” he said. Ginger was interested in the shed and emerged from beneath a pile of old rags covered in a layer of cobwebs and unidentifiable mess that changed him from a ginger to a tabby feline!
    With some difficulty, William managed to pull the lawnmower out of the shed, covering himself in hanging cobwebs as he did so, and out into the open space of his garden, where he could inspect it properly. It was an ancient one of a very simple design and there didn’t seem to be anything obviously wrong with it. He could not, however, try it out on his own garden, there being little grass of any description there, only dirt and stones and rubbish, interspersed with the occasional struggling patch of green.
    The next problem then presented itself. How could he get into Mrs. Brenner’s property, together with the riches of his shed, in order to carry out his plan of garden maintenance? He pushed the lawnmower up to the dividing hedge, which was rather wild and unkempt on his side, and viewed the situation. He tried to lift the mower, but it was far too heavy for him, the hedge was far too high and he had to admit defeat. He felt a little shoot of anger growing inside him but before it could turn into one of his rages he saw a possible solution. Mrs. Brenner, like himself, had a door at the bottom of her garden which opened on to the alley. Quickly, he went through his own door, into the alleyway, and pushed on her door. It was locked!
    Furious and disappointed he returned to his own area, and felt the need for a drink coming upon him. Still angry and muttering to himself, he turned to go into his kitchen to fetch another beer, if there was one. Coming out, bottle in hand, he looked across the hedge which divided her property from his. He had a good vantage point from where he was standing as the hedge was a little lower near the kitchen; there was even a bit of a gap through which he could look straight down over her lawn. He looked long and hard down her garden at the alleyway door. There seemed to be no sign of a padlock on it. Could he just make out a couple of bolts? He could. He was sure he could. So all he had to do was hop over the hedge himself and undo the bolts, then wheel the lawnmower in. Problem solved!
    To ‘hop over the hedge’, as he put it to himself, was not the easiest thing in the world for a man of his age (whatever that was) and in his condition. With the aid of a chair from the kitchen, on which he climbed rather perilously, and by dint of hanging onto the branch of a small tree in his neighbour’s hedge, which unfortunately split in two as it took his weight, he did manage to propel himself into the desired area, although he did arrive flat on his back, bedecked with branches and bits of greenery, with his feet in the air. Scrambling, with difficulty, to his feet, he went straight to the door and found, to his delight, that indeed it was secured by two bolts, top and bottom. These he undid, went round to his own home and duly wheeled in the lawnmower. Now for the real business of tidying up Mrs. Brenner’s garden. God had said ‘Do More’ and he was going to Do More.
    First he needed that drink, which he had left on the ground near his kitchen. He could see that gardening was going to be hard work, so he brought yet another bottle of beer from the kitchen with him. On the way back, he picked up several bits, useful things, from his shed. He didn’t think he would need a spade, but he took the shears and a plastic bin to put rubbish in, also a contraption to fix on to the front of the lawnmower to catch the grass cuttings. All these things he