Chapter 7
O
ver the next few nights the pile keeps growing. Despite crime scene tape, surveillance cameras, and several angry notes from the board saying that this will under no circumstances be tolerated. Early one morning the board stands outside Lucas’s door again, this time announcing that the whole building is really very disappointed in Lucas’s performance as president of the Pile Committee. The board demands that Lucas come to a meeting and explain himself to all the neighbors. This, of course, Lucas doesn’t do. Because Lucas is not completely insane. Instead, he opens a nice bottle of wine and eats some pad thai with extra peanuts and continues playing his video game. Like a normal, happy person.
At night, the pile keeps growing even more. The next morning it’s so big that the top of it is almost level with Lucas’s balcony. At lunchtime the doorbell rings, and there stands the board, angry as a Santa Claus who has just been told by a child that he doesn’t exist. The board informs Lucas that since he didn’t come to the meeting last night, several neighbors have demanded that he be removed as president of the Pile Committee.
“That sounds fantastic! Thank you!” Lucas says.
But then Head One of the board animal snarls:
“No! You can’t remove someone who isn’t at the meeting!”
“That wouldn’t be in good democratic order! The accused must be there to defend himself!” Head Two nods.
“But many of the neighbors were very angry. One said that you should die,” Head Three chirps.
“Not now, Linda, please,” Heads One and Two whisper in unison.
And so Lucas is informed that he’s still very much the president of the Pile Committee, and then the board of directors serves him with a new fine from the city.
“It’s because we put up angry notes saying that littering is forbidden. Unfortunately, those notes blew down. And now the city says that they count that as littering on a public hill,” the board explains.
“But that’s not my fault!” Lucas protests.
“Unfortunately, it does fall under your responsibility as president of the Pile Committee,” says Head One.
“Thank you for your commitment.” Head Two nods.
“What is it that smells so good? Is that pad thai?” Head Three asks.
“Mmm,” Lucas says, disgruntled.
“With peanuts?” Head Three asks.
“There are no peanuts in pad thai, Linda,” Head One says condescendingly.
“Then it’s not an authentic pad thai,” Head Two chimes in.
Lucas clenches his jaw so hard that his teeth grind.
“It’s precisely the peanuts that MAKE it a pad th . . . ,” he begins but gets cut off by Head Three.
“I usually keep my peanuts next to a jar of peanut butter, so they understand what I’m capable of!”
“Well, look at the time. We need to go,” states Head One, as if it is Lucas who has been ringing their doorbell and not the other way around.
And so the board animal disappears. Lucas closes the door. He almost
has time to go back to being happy before the doorbell rings again.