My Most Formidable Foe

Sherlock had his Moriarty. Father Brown had his Flambeau. I have my Nameless Menace.

We are as opposite as night and day. And yet, I know that if I let down my guard, if even for a moment, I will have given away much more space in my life than I can spare.

He is a like a whirling disc, a metal coin rotating slowly above my head, one that follows me everywhere and knows my every move.

Yet this is my only solace—if it were not for such a monumental menace pursuing me, then I would never have any idea of how great a detective I truly am.

He is not a chicken, and yet around him are symbols seemingly made like chicken scratching that contain mysterious marks that hold special meaning known only to him, Mr. Nameless.

I imagine a tear appearing in one of his eyes. It will slowly roll down his cheek and land on me. It burns, this tear from eyes that now are unknowing of joy or connection to another heart.

Perhaps this is the face of the one who takes care of us chickens here in the Backyard Garden, our own Nate, only all grown up. That would make this a recurring vision of the future. But could our Nate, the one who brought us up and fed us every day, honestly be the Nameless Menace?

I have heard before from tunes sung by our visiting songbirds that our greatest friend can turn into our greatest enemy. Knowing that, I feel quite truly helpless.

No, it is not Nate who has somehow changed. It is an enchantment placed upon him that has turned him into someone who he is not. The enchantment was placed by someone he trusted and who lied to him. That same person stole from him what he would have generously given until there was nothing more to give, not even to those he considers family, his chickens.