The True Account of an Incident, happending on the 18th of October, 2009

12:00 noon. The police officer cannot conceal his giant smile as he scratches the incident onto his yellow notepad. "Couch discovered on roof." My father stands by, fuming over the audacity for someone to sneak in the dead of night and place a large piece of furniture on our roof. He mutters threats of lawsuit as he considers the sagging cushions of soggy blue, spilling awkwardly onto the roof from the couch's upside-down position.

Two and a half hours earlier, my father arises to drive Weston (my 9 year old brother) to Church School, at which point the couch was already in position. Somehow, it escapes my father's notice as he backs out of the driveway, and continues on his way. The sharp 4th grader, however, does notice the odd piece of furniture upon the roof. He doesn't say anything to my father, because, (as he claims after questioning later in the day) he "thought it was supposed to be there."

At approximately 9:45am, my father returns to our home after making a quick stop at Family Fare to purchase a Sunday bouquet for my Mother. While he is pulling into the driveway, he suddenly noticed the startling sofa above the garage, and stops with a screeching of the car. He promptly jogs into the house to alert my mother.

My Mother awoke at 9:46am to her husband holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and a most curious expression on his face. In over 25 years of marriage, she could not remember an expression of equal confusion.
"Here's some flowers. There's a couch on the roof."
"Oh, flowers!"
"I said there's a couch on the roof."
"You didn't have to get me these!"
"Did you hear me?"
"What are you talking about?"
Becoming increasingly agitated, my father says, "LOOK OUTSIDE! There's a COUCH on the ROOF!"

9:48, my sister wakes up after a long night working third shift at Jimmy Johns. The noise down stairs irritates her and she rolls over again, with her pillow over her head. To her great dismay, our mother bursts through the doors and says "Erika, there's a couch on the roof!" To which Erika replies, groggily, "Is someone sitting on it?"

It is a confusing morning.

The Pineiros dress, and attend mass with cartoon question marks floating above their heads. Weston rejoins the family, and when questioned in a whisper by his mother, "Weston, did you happen to notice a couch on our roof?", he replied, "Oh, you mean the one on the garage?" She is still dumbfounded by his casual reply.

The mystery of the Couch-Strander could not be solved by the police officer, who scratched down the note more out of amusement than duty. He shifted his weight and whimsically asked my irate father, "Do you happen to have a daughter?" My sister was outraged that he would suggest she was anyway at fault, because in her opinion, she is blamed for everything--even, apparently, large pieces of furniture that materialize on top of houses.

As for me, my true talent of observation showed when I returned from college later that day. I drove straight up the driveway, jolted into the house, bee-lined it to the fridge and made myself a sandwich. Later, I pretended that I noticed the couch on the roof, although in truth I probably wouldn't have noticed if the pavement was lined with gum-drop bricks or the house was painted purple. Nevertheless, I am left to impotently ponder the identity of the Couch-Strander with the rest of the family.

Maybe it spontaneously generated from the junk in our garage--the physical manifestation of our need to organize and donate stuff. Perhaps I have a secret admirer who thought the way to my heart was through a sofa. Or--what if, in some kind of modern Easter Island thing, the aliens are trying to communicate with my family? Or--even more delightfully, what if there are a bunch of stoned weirdos nearby with a truck and too much time on their hands?

Which ever the case may be, it is clear that the incident has brought the family together--at least as far as strange conversation goes--which is just as good as any.