The nice but no longer quite so modest man knew the time would come. It was not a story he wanted to tell and it certainly wasn't one that involved a pretty sight. But it was part of Lindsay's life and honesty demanded it be told.
She was five when she met the naked man in the bushes. Lindsay was simply going about her doggy business during a run along the top of the Scarborough Bluffs, following every interesting scent that came the way of her cold, black, twitchy nose.
Barry was following along behind her, lost in thought as usual and paying little attention. It was a bright and sunny day in August. Usually Barry avoided the trail on the top of the bluffs in late summer because it became over grown and difficult to see the poison ivy that flourished in unsuspecting patches.
So they should have been walking along the beach at the bottom of the bluffs that day, but, as fate would have it, they weren't.
Ahead of him Lindsay was prancing along the pathway at twice his speed when she suddenly encountered a surprising smell, whirled about and plunged into the bushes at the side of the path.
Her plunge into the thicket was immediately accompanied by a resounding shriek and a totally naked man who came levitating out of the brush. He was short and more than a little pudgy and was emitting an ear splitting squeal.
Startled to his core, Barry came to an abrupt halt.
Lindsay flew out of the bushes behind the man who continued shrieking and hopping up in down in terror.
Much to Lindsay's great delight.
Here was a man who knew really how to play! The more he hopped the more excited she got, her tail wagging with joy.
Barry, however, was not happy to see that his innocent little dog had taken up dancing with the neighbourhood pervert but before he could do or say anything, the man dashed off with a kind of waddling hop, squealing still, down a side pathway.
Lindsay continuing to dance and hop around him.
Gradually the squeals became more distant and the meadow at the top of the bluffs grew quiet.
Barry waited trying to process what he had just witnessed. As he waited he became aware that where the man had been hiding was not just a patch of bush and grass but was alive with more potent stuff. It was everywhere. The man had been sitting naked, by the side of the path, in a patch of poison ivy.
There was no sign of any clothing strewn about. How had the naked man come to be there? What had he been doing? Was he waiting to jump out and expose himself to passers by? On a trail that almost no one used in the late summer?
Lindsay came prancing back, eyes alive with joy, her dance with nudists done for the day.
Wasn't that fun, she seemed to say.
About that, Barry wasn't sure. But it did give him a great story to bring home to Linda.
Conventions of British TV Mysteries
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