Something Sinister Is Afoot, or Is It?

“This is very strange,” I told my husband after quickly grabbing the Amazon box on the porch in the chilly mid-October Illinois Breeze.

“I retired three months ago, yet this package was shipped to me at the office. Someone crossed out that address and scribbled ours on the box.”

Why would I get a package delivered to the office?

“Did you order something and accidentally ship it there?” he asked.

“I never shipped personal items to the office.

Ron pulled out his pocket knife. “Well, let’s get this baby opened. Maybe it’s a belated retirement gift from one of your members.”

I pulled back the box flaps, and I peered inside the mystery box.

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Inside was a commercially sealed, see-through package holding a FAKE SEVERED FOOT. The tag read: SEVERED LIMBS — A FUN gag or a FRIGHTFUL trick?

The fake foot was attached to an 8-inch pant leg. Photo instructions suggested driving a car tire onto the pant leg with the foot visible as if someone was pinned under the vehicle.

“Why would anyone send me a severed limb?

“Maybe it’s a retirement gag gift from a member,” Ron suggested.

“Are you suggesting that if there had been a note in the box, it would have said something like Thank you, Gaye, for all you’ve sacrificed the last 18 years — we found your foot!”

Ron laughed out loud. “Well, you did give your heart and soul to the job. I’m surprised you didn’t leave several limbs behind.”

That reminded me of the day at work when I gave blood over my lunch hour. I have small veins, and this peculiar nurse couldn’t squeeze more than a dribble from either arm.

When I returned to work with colorful stretchy bandages wrapped around both elbows, I strolled into the Executive Director’s office with a smile.

“Look! They poked me in both arms but couldn’t get any blood because I gave it all to the office! Ha Ha!”

Joking around with staff and hundreds of members was something I loved about that job. However, getting a severed foot delivered to my doorstep was beyond my level of comfort.

Maybe it wasn’t a gag gift. Perhaps I had offended a member. You never know what can set a person off these days.

Or maybe the package was from the remaining staff telling me they had pitched all the procedures I’d created over the years and were doing things their own way now that I had been “severed from the collective.” (That’s a Star Trek Borg reference for all you non-Trekkies.)

With only the UPS tracking number for reference, I called Amazon. They were just as concerned as I was and promised to do their best to track down the sender of the mysterious, perhaps ominous, package.

In the meantime, I searched online for FAKE SEVERED LIMBS.

I found ripped feet, legs, hands, arms, and bloody chopped-off fingers! If someone really wanted to play a trick on me or send a cryptic message, there were dozens of gruesome severed body parts that were gorier than the spotlessly clean, manicured, foot-on-a-pant leg that I received”.

In comparison, the foot-on-a-pant leg was pretty boring. I likened it to the pork-chop-on-a-stick at the Illinois State Fair. There’s nothing scary about walking around the fairgrounds holding a pork chop unless it’s been freshly ripped from the pig and blood is dripping down your arm.

To be honest, I was a bit disappointed with the foot sender’s lack of drama.

The more I thought about it I was sure no one was out to get me. The delivery had to be nothing more than a simple mistake.

A few days later, Amazon called, saying. “We know who sent the package. Do you know someone by the name of . . . . ?”

A chill went down my spine. Ron had been right! The box HAD come from a member. A BOARD MEMBER!

My mind quickly scanned every interaction with him. There were no issues over my job as Director of Administration or how I handled the office finances. He complimented my work and got along with everyone. He was a nice man.

In fact, before I retired, he told me how much he enjoyed reading my humorous short stories. He even asked if he could send me a funny book that he knew I would enjoy. It was a New York Times Bestseller by Justin Halpern titled, Sh*t My Dad Says. He was right. It was hilarious.

THAT’S WHEN IT HIT ME! The severed limb was supposed to be delivered to his house but was accidentally shipped to the office because the book was shipped there. It all made perfect sense now.

I called him at work. We arranged the return of the package to its rightful owner, who I foolishly assumed was either him or one of his kids. Come to find out, his wife ordered the severed foot.

I’m a little embarrassed to share with you that his wife inspired me. After the phone call, I ordered fake bloody severed fingers and put them in a package of hot dogs in the refrigerator for Ron to find.

Oh, come on! I would never do something like that — or would I?