![\"IMG_3190](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/10\/IMG_3190-2.jpeg?resize=474%2C289\")
<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n
On Halloween Eve, while Rick littered his front lawn with mock foam tombstones, his former neighbor Chuck stopped to visit. They shook hands.\u00a0 Chuck was close to 50, his once brown hair now peppered with gray.\u00a0 Rick hadn\u2019t seen him in years.\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s up, man?\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I was driving past and saw this cat.\u201d He pointed to Rick\u2019s black cat, Midnight, who was rubbing against the markers Rick was putting up.\u00a0 \u201cHe brought back a memory.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rick invited Chuck inside as he sank the last headstone into the grass: \u201cORSON WELLES – All’s well that ends Welles.\u201d In the kitchen, he opened a couple of longnecks and handed one to Chuck. They clinked bottles in a silent toast and drank.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, this is funny \u2013\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat? The beer?\u201d said Rick.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. Twenty years ago, one of my construction workers shot your cat,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/em>\u00a0 Mouth agape, Rick stared at Chuck.\u00a0 How for one second could Chuck think such news would set off any kind of mirth?<\/p>\n Noah, Rick\u2019s cat, had been a family favorite, a dark striped tabby and a bit of an evolutionary freak with two extra toes on each paw. Noah was also a formidable hunter who had looked scruffy but was also a little noble with his pure white fur bib.\u00a0 His ears had several nicks from healed war wounds.\u00a0 He had loved people; he just didn\u2019t like other cats.<\/p>\n Chuck continued. Rick heard genuine jollity in the guy\u2019s voice.\u00a0 He was clearly oblivious to Rick\u2019s displeasure.\u00a0 \u201cYeah, I didn\u2019t tell you before because of your temper.\u00a0 I thought you might kill<\/em> the guy, but that cat rubbing up against those tombstones in your yard reminded me of your dead cat.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick paused for a moment to take in Chuck\u2019s confession. He set his beer down hard, stood straight and pushed off the counter.\u00a0 Rick leaned forward.\u00a0 He was inches from Chuck\u2019s face. \u201cWhat do you mean he shot my cat?\u00a0 Is this some BS trick or treat joke?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d said Chuck. \u201cI heard from the other workers that the guy was just getting in a little target practice.\u00a0 He usually shot birds, but your cat was out in the field that day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s his name?\u201d asked Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not important, especially after all these years,\u201d said Chuck with a shrug. \u201cBesides, I don\u2019t remember.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want the cat killer\u2019s name,\u201d Rick demanded.<\/p>\n Chuck sat his beer down. He rubbed his wet hand on his jeans.\u00a0 He avoided eye contact with Rick.\u00a0 \u201cHe was just some kid named Kevin; I don\u2019t remember his last name.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick realized that he and Chuck shared no real connection. In fact, he\u2019d come back to haunt this Halloween Eve.\u00a0 Chuck shrugged and said he\u2019d hired the kid to help build his brother\u2019s house across the street from Rick\u2019s house.\u00a0 \u201cI didn\u2019t see the shooting take place, understand.\u00a0 Another worker told me about it.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick fought to swallow the red rage he felt. \u201cWas my cat \u2013 did Noah die instantly?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t know.\u201d Chuck shrugged again.\u00a0 \u201cNone of us went to go check after Kevin shot him.\u00a0 He said he\u2019d hit him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you for real?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLook,\u201d said Chuck, backing away and putting his hand on the refrigerator door. He toyed with the magnets on it.\u00a0 \u201cThe guy was a good shot and I was probably behind schedule.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick glared at Chuck. He seemed genuinely caught off-guard by Rick\u2019s reaction to his news.\u00a0 As he started to leave, he stopped at the kitchen entrance and looked back.\u00a0 \u201cHey, look, I saved you from jail, Buddy.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick stared at him, but didn\u2019t answer. Chuck waited in the kitchen doorway for a minute or two.\u00a0 He looked like he wanted to say more.\u00a0 Then he looked at Rick and said \u201cBye.\u201d\u00a0 He reached forward and grabbed his coat off the kitchen chair, but didn\u2019t take time to put it on.\u00a0 It was not a friendly parting, and Rick didn\u2019t walk Chuck to his car as he usually did with guests; instead, he grabbed another beer from the fridge.<\/p>\n He sputtered, \u201cHe has balls telling me he saved me from jail.\u201d<\/p>\n Lily, Rick\u2019s wife, entered the kitchen.<\/p>\n \u201cThat prick,\u201d yelled Rick. He shook his head and swore again.\u00a0 After taking a couple more swigs of beer, he continued, \u201cLike I would risk jail over a cat . . . I might have slugged the punk, but I didn\u2019t have the chance to act . . . who knows what I would have done.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s why I didn\u2019t tell you about it,\u201d said Lily.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat? You knew?\u201d<\/p>\n Rick stepped closer to his wife. His stance was challenging.\u00a0 Lily\u2019s tone was nonchalant. \u201cCome on Rick, you know you\u2019re a hothead and <\/em>you\u2019re sensitive.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know what you\u2019d do.\u201d<\/p>\n Lily asked him to move and started to unload the dishwasher.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy? How could you keep such a thing from me?\u201d Rick demanded.<\/p>\n \u201cWe had kids and a mortgage,\u201d said Lily.<\/p>\n Rick watched his wife. She didn\u2019t bother to stop putting away dishes.\u00a0 \u201cIt was years ago, Rick.\u00a0 Can\u2019t you let this go?\u201d<\/p>\n Rick walked past his wife, out of the kitchen, and stepped outside to be sure that Chuck had left. Yes, he had a temper, but Chuck\u2019s rationale seemed a bit self-serving.\u00a0 He wondered what reaction Chuck had expected from him after such news.\u00a0 Had he really mellowed?<\/p>\n Lily interrupted his thoughts. She spoke through the screen door.\u00a0 \u201cOkay, Rick, let\u2019s talk about this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLily, I\u2019m not interested. Chuck\u2019s one thing, but you\u2019re my wife.\u00a0 You knew I loved that cat.\u00a0 I can\u2019t believe you\u2019d keep something like this from me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s not get all dramatic,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Rick stepped off the porch. The late October air was brisk; he took a deep breath, walked over and sat in the Adirondack chair with his beer in hand.\u00a0 Tail in the air, Midnight came over to join him.\u00a0 Rick gave the cat a pat on the top of its head and remembered that at the time of Noah\u2019s disappearance, he and Lily and their three kids were visiting his dying mother in Maine.<\/p>\n He\u2019d always felt safe in this Connecticut neighborhood. He provided a good setup for his kids, Jane, Ted and Mark: a pool table, an outdoor inground pool and a variety of yard games, from croquet to horse shoes.\u00a0 Rick would have been plenty angry about Noah\u2019s death, but guessed that rather than pummel the cat killer himself, he would have called the police and had him arrested.<\/p>\n Of course, he wasn\u2019t 100 percent sure that\u2019s what would have happened. Maybe some of his Army combat training would have short-circuited his professional airline pilot instincts to make him go after the cat killer.<\/p>\n The front door opened. Lily came outside and joined Rick.\u00a0 She sat in the other Adirondack chair that he\u2019d made.\u00a0 \u201cSo, do you think you would have just called the cops?\u00a0 I doubt it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow long have you known?\u201d<\/p>\n Lily hesitated.<\/p>\n \u201cHow long?\u201d Rick repeated. \u201cI need to know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cChuck told me when we got back from your mom\u2019s in Maine.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick counted back to when his mother died. \u201cShe died two days after we got home.\u00a0 You mean you\u2019ve known for twenty years, Lily?\u201d<\/p>\n She shrugged.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re a real witch,\u201d he said. \u201cI can\u2019t believe you kept this from me and the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick pulled his eyes away from the Styrofoam \u201cO.J. SIMPSON \u2013 May as Well be Dead and Buried\u201d headstone catching waning sunlight on the lawn.<\/p>\n \u201cEnough,\u201d said Lily. \u201cI\u2019m not going to sit here and let you insult me.\u201d\u00a0 She stood, but waited.\u00a0 Rick ignored her and drank from his beer.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m wondering what else you\u2019ve kept from me,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cFuck you, Rick,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t take the bait.<\/p>\n \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter, I guess,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cThe point is that Chuck had to wait twenty years to tell me what happened.\u00a0 You see, either way \u2013 if Chuck told me and I went after the guy or if I just called the cops \u2013 they would\u2019ve gotten involved.\u00a0 But you, you, I don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n Lily threw her hands up. \u201cWhy go over all this?\u00a0 It\u2019s not helping.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHelping, helping . . . I need help in understanding your actions,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I\u2019m going inside. Why don\u2019t you sit out here and cool off.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick didn\u2019t respond.<\/p>\n \u201cListen, they lived behind us for four years,\u201d said Lily. \u201cThey were our friends.\u00a0 Don\u2019t you remember that Chuck helped us out with a loan when we needed money back then?\u201d<\/p>\n Chuck was a successful builder, or \u2018contractor\u2019 in today\u2019s lingo. He and the rest of the Bownur family were neighbors whose antics provided Rick and his family with an anthology of stories.\u00a0 Chuck\u2019s youngest son, Jim, was a toddler when Rick saw him drag an icicle through cow manure, put it in his mouth and suck on it.\u00a0 Years later, when Jim was a young teen, Rick and his family were all sitting on the deck eating dinner one warm July evening when Jim\u2019s mother started screaming, \u201cJim, get off<\/em> that tractor right now!\u201d\u00a0 There was more yelling and Rick and family watched Jim jump from the moving tractor.\u00a0 It rolled forward a few yards until it hit a tree before coming to a stop.\u00a0 Jim wasn\u2019t hurt, though.\u00a0 Such events took place daily in the Bownur family.\u00a0 Maybe it was the way the wind blew, the way the house was positioned on the property, but it seemed that Shelly Bownur, Chuck\u2019s wife, liked to yell, especially at her four kids.<\/p>\n Rick also remembered the construction of Warren\u2019s house.\u00a0 Warren was Chuck\u2019s older brother and had moved across the street from Rick and Lily.\u00a0 He lived alone and hired a married reading tutor, from two streets down.\u00a0 Warren\u2019s reading and self-improvement was a topic of discussion and interest among many adults in the neighborhood.\u00a0 The tutor\u2019s visits lasted for hours and started a phone chain in the area.\u00a0 It was either Lily dialing or answering the phone \u2013 being across the street, she had the best view of the house and tutor\u2019s car in the driveway.<\/p>\n Whether they were strong readers or not, the Bownur brothers had a successful building business. They had built most of the houses on the street:\u00a0 Rick\u2019s house, the Goldsteins\u2019, the Putneys\u2019, and the Wordsworths\u2019.\u00a0 They each lived in the houses they built, supposedly \u201cfor themselves\u201d for a couple years before selling them and moving on to other neighborhoods.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought Chuck was a friend,\u201d said Rick.\u00a0 \u201cNow I can\u2019t stand the thought of him.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow about me?\u201d asked Lily. Her tone was sarcastic.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m disgusted,\u201d said Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy?\u201d Lily challenged.\u00a0 \u201cI did it to keep our family together.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe way I see it is that you and Chuck let Noah\u2019s death go unpunished. I mean, Chuck\u2019s kids used to swim in our pool with Noah lounging on the hot slate nearby, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n Lily nodded. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNoah was always close to any outdoor activity and people,\u201d Rick continued.<\/p>\n Lily chuckled. Rick jumped.\u00a0 He looked over and realized she was reminiscing.\u00a0 \u201cHe was a real people cat, a real sweetie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI need some space,\u201d said Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cNo problem,\u201d said Lily. \u201cI\u2019m not interested in your drama.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick threw the beer bottle across the lawn. It hit a large oak and made a thud before dropping to the ground.<\/p>\n He had liked Chuck, at least until now. Such news instantly wiped out memories of good times, he was learning.\u00a0 No, not wiped out.\u00a0 But memories certainly shifted.\u00a0 Chuck let a cat killer disrupt their safe neighborhood and had no remorse for the loss of his family pet.\u00a0 And Lily\u2019s keeping it a secret, that shocked him.\u00a0 Who knew she\u2019d be so cold and emotionless?\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t even an hour since he\u2019d heard the news and the space where thoughts of friendship used to reside were now filled with thoughts of Chuck\u2019s lack of sophistication and his being a high school dropout.\u00a0 The more Rick dwelled on it, the more Chuck\u2019s guise of protecting him seemed weak and unconvincing.\u00a0 At least focusing on Chuck kept him from thinking about Lily.<\/p>\n \u201cI hope I see him again,\u201d said Rick aloud. No one was around to hear him.\u00a0 Midnight sat curled in his lap purring.<\/p>\n Rick heard the screen door shut. \u201cA peace offering,\u201d said Lily.\u00a0 She held out a beer.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, thanks,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Lily sighed. \u201cI kid you not, it was hell not telling you what happened.\u00a0 I remember that the kids were upset for weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt was hell<\/em> not knowing,\u201d said Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m going in, it\u2019s chilly out here,\u201d said Lily.<\/p>\n \u201cLily,\u201d Rick started, \u201cChuck wasn\u2019t at all remorseful today. Was he back then?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess,\u201d she said. \u201cI mean he didn\u2019t show up with a kitten or anything, but I\u2019m pretty sure he said he was sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShould we tell the kids after all these years?\u201d asked Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course not,\u201d said Lily. \u201cLet them remember Noah as a sociable cat that had no need to fear humans.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess that\u2019s easier for you,\u201d he said. \u201cThey might feel deceived.\u00a0 I know I do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, this time I\u2019m staying in the house,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019ve had enough theater for one afternoon.\u201d<\/p>\n Rick didn\u2019t want to let it go. He sat facing the field of tall grass where Noah had been shot.\u00a0 It was late October now, but the wildflowers from May through June were calendar worthy.\u00a0 The field filled with lightning bugs at night.\u00a0 It had also been prime hunting ground for the mouser Noah.\u00a0 He was a generous gift giver and liked to leave presents at the front door (usually a mouse head and guts).\u00a0 Rick wasn\u2019t mythologizing; Noah was a fun cat, with just enough affection and aloofness to make him entertaining.\u00a0 Noah used to rub across the back of Rick\u2019s calves, especially when he was opening a can of cat food.\u00a0 Rick was an early riser and the one who fed the pets in the morning: there was Zipper after Noah, Godzilla after Zipper, and now, Midnight.\u00a0 He remembered that the electric can opener had been music to Noah\u2019s ears.<\/p>\n Whether Chuck \u2019fessed up out of guilt or because he had a warped sense of humor, Rick knew it wouldn\u2019t bring Noah back. The tombstone closest to him read: \u201cSHAKESPEARE \u2013 To be or not to be is no longer the question.\u201d<\/p>\n He saw the first trick-or-treaters heading down the street.\u00a0 New families had moved in, and the little ones usually came around early.\u00a0 Rick headed inside.\u00a0 Lily was standing in the foyer adjusting her white wig.\u00a0 She always dressed up for Halloween.\u00a0 He wasn\u2019t amused by this year\u2019s granny costume.<\/p>\n \u201cStill mad?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I\u2019m mad,\u201d said Rick.<\/p>\n The doorbell rang and Rick heard kid voices call out, \u201cTrick or Treat.\u201d<\/p>\n He stood leaning against the hall closet, arms folded across his chest, and watched Lily hold out a large black bowl to the kids. There were squeals.\u00a0 The bowl had a rubber skeletal hand standing inches above the bowl\u2019s center.\u00a0 The kids each picked their candy and were stomping down the porch steps when Lily turned to Rick.<\/p>\n \u201cCan you watch the door? I\u2019ve got to go to the bathroom.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m going out to get Midnight.\u00a0 \u201cI want her inside tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh come on, Rick. You\u2019ve got to let this go \u2013 don\u2019t be mad,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cYou love Halloween.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot anymore,\u201d said Rick. \u201cNot after today\u2019s tricks.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked back at the woman he\u2019d married and still loved. Very much.\u00a0 And yet, he fought telling her that she should\u2019ve dressed as a witch instead of granny this year \u2013 but she was right.\u00a0 Enough was enough.\u00a0 Except for the cat, of course.<\/p>\n He stepped outside and called for Midnight.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" On Halloween Eve, while Rick littered his front lawn with mock foam tombstones, his former neighbor Chuck stopped to visit. They shook hands.\u00a0 Chuck was close to 50, his once brown hair now peppered with gray.\u00a0 Rick hadn\u2019t seen him in years.\u00a0 \u201cWhat\u2019s up, man?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":true,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[20],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1012","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7zCq3-gk","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":356,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/07\/19\/the-fine-art-of-not-writing\/","url_meta":{"origin":1012,"position":0},"title":"The Fine Art Of Not Writing","author":"Gary Gladstone","date":"July 19, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u00a0Gary Gladstone Today I will write more because last week I let a million distractions keep me from actually hitting the keys. I\u2019ll start now. I feel better because of my resolve. Let's start. Let me just check email first. I'll open this important-looking message. I paid that already! I\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Essay"","block_context":{"text":"Essay","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/essay\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Not Writing art _1.jpg","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/07\/Not-Writing-art-_1.jpg--300x187.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x"},"classes":[]},{"id":656,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2016\/11\/21\/not-telling-part-3\/","url_meta":{"origin":1012,"position":1},"title":"Not telling – Part 3","author":"Kathy Follett","date":"November 21, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u00a0 \u00a0 This is me Sheila again. I think you are all waiting for me to say why Joe Sr. and I live in two different houses especially when there is enough space in this one and anyway he will never get around to taking the rest of his stuff\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Fiction"","block_context":{"text":"Fiction","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/fiction\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"2016-11-20-15-39-23","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/2016-11-20-15.39.23-1024x557.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":1127,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2019\/07\/09\/crybaby\/","url_meta":{"origin":1012,"position":2},"title":"Crybaby","author":"Gary Gladstone","date":"July 9, 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"As a young newspaper photographer, I saw some pretty horrific things. Arriving at accident scenes often ahead of the police, I was exposed to some raw suffering. But somehow I remained unemotional and was able to continue shooting pictures to complete my assignment. Some of the worst of what I\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Non-fictions"","block_context":{"text":"Non-fictions","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/contents\/submissions\/non-fictions\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"crybaby2","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/07\/crybaby2-300x286.png?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":6135,"url":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/2024\/12\/04\/fall-swirls\/","url_meta":{"origin":1012,"position":3},"title":"Fall Swirls","author":"Christine Bexley","date":"December 4, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Photo by Los Muertos Crew on Pexels.com Breezes float over squash patches now bursting:once bright blossoms, now baseball bats.I trepidatiously turn off the air con, leave the fan onjust in case, to oscillate any surprise wash of wet heat fit to sideswipe us patient fall fanaticsdesperate for a cool morning\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Poetry"","block_context":{"text":"Poetry","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/category\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"overhead shot of a tarot card and healing crystals","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-7947794-2.jpeg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1012","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1012"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1012\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1024,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1012\/revisions\/1024"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1012"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1012"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.talesfromthelake.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1012"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}