Mysterious and Potentially Explosive

It wasn't the first time something weird had happened in my backyard.

The first time was when I found two new bikes pushed up against the brick wall.

I didn't know where they came from. One day, they just sort of appeared.

Six months later, one of the bikes disappeared.

One day it was there.

One day it wasn't.

Which is why I wasn't all that surprised when I found a mysterious cell phone, sitting on a the old bookshelf my roommate left, in the backyard.

It is also why I was suspicious of the mysterious cell phone protected by a black case and wrapped up with blue rubber bands.

I thought about opening it. To see if it was real. To see if there was a Mom contact typed inside. To see if it was any nicer than my cell phone that I have worn down over its lifetime.

But then I had a thought.

What if it's a bomb?

No really. I thought that.

What if it explodes when I unwrap the rubber bands?

That, too.

What if the aliens left it here?

I thought that, too, but I was just joshin' myself by that point.

So I didn't touch it. And it's still there. And I don't know who it belongs to. And it's potentially explosive.

But that's not why I called the fire department.

And that's not why four tall firemen showed up at my house last Wednesday afternoon.

And that's not why I owe the firemen who work down the street Blue Bunny ice cream and a thank you note.

But it is why I sneak past the rain-damaged bookcase when I toss out the garbage.