The marijuana burned well, even though it took us several runs back and forth to get all the pot plants out and heave them onto the fire pit. We also had to get rid of the apparatus. I had no idea there was so much stuff in there. “Mom?!” I said, aghast. “Aunt Iris! Aunt Camellia!”

“Medicinal usage,” my mother said, holding up a finger.

“Only for our adult friends who needed relief from the pain of the world, the pain from fraying, elderly, or sick bodies that needed a way forward into peace,” Aunt Camellia said.

“Our financial goal is money toward our Antarctica trip,” Aunt Iris said. “I want to study the migration of the animals. The severe weather patterns—”

“Not now!” I said.

We heard that the two tractors, all of a sudden breaking down, together, on the one street out of town, worked well for a while. Chief Ass Burn was purple with fury. He waited, he yelled, and finally he drove his police car up and then back down an embankment, sirens blaring at Yank and Bobbi. His police car became stuck and, gee whiz, no one helped. He finally gunned it and got out and back on the road.

But the lambs on Robbins Drive slowed him up, too, as they were bunched together, bleating. Diana stood in front of them, her truck and trailer parked at an angle, and would not let Chief Ass Burn by. “My trailer broke down. The engine doesn’t work. Hey! Back up! Do not hurt my lambs, Chief Ass Burn, or I will take your big butt to jail! My lambs have every right to hang around outside until I can get the engine to work on my trailer again!”

There was no engine on the trailer, but it was all Diana could think of. The sirens scared the lambs, and they eventually parted enough for the chief to drive off-road, where he became stuck again momentarily.

The pot was burned to a crisp, and all the growing paraphernalia was hidden underneath the gazebo by my mother, my aunts, and me by the time he arrived. We even had time to sweep and hose the greenhouse down.

Chief Ass Burn spotted the fire pit, the smoke, and he knew. He didn’t even need to go to the greenhouse. His face grew red and mottled.

“Chief Ass Burn,” I called out. “You look like you need a book to read. Maybe a romance.”

“I hope this will be a short visit so my temper is not triggered, Chief,” my mother said.

“Time for you to take your negativity and poor karma and leave,” Aunt Camellia said.

“You’ve got a warrant,” Aunt Iris said. “You’ve executed the warrant. You have found nothing. You must leave. My attorney is on the way for obvious legal reasons.” That was true. The family’s attorney was on a ferry and she would be here soon.