1

Jane Jeffry threaded through all the parked cars on her street and pulled into her driveway, going very slowly and carefully to avoid falling into the pothole that was threatening to eat the whole driveway. She'd investigated the costs of a new driveway and decided the pothole would have to eat the whole block before she could afford such an extravagance.

“Wow!" she said to herself, staring at the sight of a large truck easing its way between her house and her neighbor Shelley's.

Shelley herself was standing on the little deck outside her kitchen door, likewise observing the strange phenomenon and looking ready and capable of stringing up the driver if he scraped her house. Jane pulled her ailing and ancient station wagon into her garage and went to join Shelley.

“Who'd have thought they'd start so early in the day?" Jane said.

“And be so efficient!" Shelley said. "Jane, you should have seen them take out the fence between our yards. They popped the posts out like a line of clothespins. And they've already got the dog runs set up."

“Which Willard will probably be terrified of. What's that particular truck for?"

“I don't know.”

Jane shivered. It was only the first Tuesday in October, but there was a chill in the air and the station wagon's heater had refused to work while she was driving her car pool. One more thing to start budgeting for! "Let's go inside and watch from my back windows. Uh-oh," she added as the big battleship gray Lincoln wallowed into her driveway behind them.

There was a nasty, scraping sound as the Lincoln fell into the pothole.

Cringing, Jane called out, "Hi, Thelma," as her mother-in-law, frowning furiously, emerged from the car.