The Skeleton

Many years ago, I had a friend who was in a medical fraternity at the University of Toronto. He discovered, in a forgotten closet in the basement, a partial skeleton. No doubt it had been stolen from the department by a member who had graduated and gone a generation or so ago.

(No, it was not somebody who got accidentally shut in during a party and never heard from again.)

It was not a complete skeleton, and what there was, was wired together. There was a skull, a torso and one arm.

My friend decided that Mr. Bones needed some air. It was just dawn, and rush hour traffic was commencing. We loaded Mr. Bones into the car. I sat in the middle of the bench seat, and Mr. Bones rode next to the passenger window.

The looks on people's faces as we passed them were priceless, particularly when he waved at them.

It was years later before I realized what a stupid and irresponsible thing that was to do. I'm sure I have several aeons to serve on the Isle of Atonement for that little stunt. Thank Heavens nobody was hurt, and no wrecks caused.

But it sure was funny, at the time.