Mike’s Lawn Mower by K. A. Williams
My wife, Della, and I went to an estate sale on Saturday where vehicles were lined up along the street. I parked behind another truck and hoped we weren’t too late to get something good.
Della walked on up to the house but I saw a man unlocking a shed at the end of the driveway and stopped. “Are you the one having the sale?”
“Yes, I’m Lewis.”
“Sam,” I said, introducing myself. “What’s in the shed?”
“A riding lawn mower.”
I went inside the shed with him. “It looks brand new.”
“My late father, Mike, loved to mow. This was his pride and joy. He cleaned it every time he mowed. The mower is in perfect shape and even has a mulcher on it.”
“How much do you want?”
He told me.
“I’ll take it.” I knew Della would agree.
#
Della had fallen asleep but I was wide awake. I kept thinking about our new lawn mower and went outside to get the instruction manual I’d left on its seat.
I grabbed it up, turned off the shed light and was about to close the door, when I noticed the outdoor lights appeared dimmer than they used to be. I hurried into the house to hunt for replacement bulbs, but couldn’t find any.
I had just gotten back into bed when I heard a lawn mower and wondered which of our next door neighbors liked to mow in the dark. It sounded as if the mower was in our own yard. That wasn’t possible because we had a fence with a gate I locked at night.
Our grass needed cut too, and I planned to mow in the morning. I turned on the table lamp next to me and glanced through the manual.
#
After breakfast, I went out the back door to the shed. Its door was open and I remembered being distracted by the outdoor lights last night.
The lawn mower sat in the same place as before but now it had clumps of grass on the cutting deck. That was weird. I thought it had been clean yesterday. Then I looked closer at the yard and hurried back into the house.
“Della!”
She came out of the bedroom. “What’s the matter, Sam? Is there something wrong with the lawn mower?”
“Come and see.”
She followed me outside to the shed. “Well?”
“Look at the grass.”
“It seems shorter. How can that be?”
“Look at the lawn mower.”
She did. “There’s grass on it. It was clean yesterday. Wasn’t it?”
“Yes. And remember I told you I heard a lawn mower last night. I think Mike mowed our yard.”
“Who’s Mike?”
“Lewis told me yesterday at the estate sale that his father, Mike, had loved to mow. I believe his father’s spirit has bonded with this lawn mower.”
“But that’s impossible,” she said.
“Then who mowed it?”
#
We had kept the shed door closed for two weeks during which time we debated what to do, and watched the grass grow higher.
“Let’s just open the shed door and see if Mike mows again,” I finally suggested.
“You’re still assuming Mike mowed before.”
“And you haven’t come up with a better explanation yet.”
“Suppose Mike does mow. What if someone sees that there’s nobody on the lawn mower?”
“They’d have to climb the fence first, but I’ll open the shed door after dark and leave the outside lights off.”
#
The key was already in the lawn mower. I poured gas into it and Della and I left the shed. Then we stood on the back porch and waited in the dark.
“So much for your theory,” Della said, after a few minutes.
“Well, how do you explain – ”
The sudden noise stopped me from finishing my sentence. Della grabbed my hand.
Headlights came out of the shed. With amazement, we stayed there and watched the headlights go around the yard until eventually they went back inside the shed. Then the sound of the motor stopped.
“Shouldn’t we return it to Lewis?” Della asked.
“And tell him what? That we think Mike’s spirit inhabits his old lawn mower. He’d think we were crazy. Let’s keep it. All Mike wants to do is mow the yard. And you know I don’t really enjoy mowing.”
—
