Is that your ax?
I took this picture on Tuesday, which means we were in Jerusalem and I believe we were on our way to the Upper Room of the Last Supper. Our guide often said, “Be on the watch for unusual things” and this certainly caught my eye as unusual. It appears to be an ax, wrapped in paper, hanging from a string tied to a railing on someone’s upstairs porch.
I don’t know who lived there and I have no idea why someone in the city needed an ax, but it’s fun to speculate the reason behind this tool-storage method. The paper and string look new. This hasn’t been hanging out in the weather for very long. It’s fresh. Just think of the possibilities.
- Kid-proofing the house? Little ones get into everything. When you don’t have a shed or a basement workshop for tools, where do you keep your ax? “I don’t care where you put it, just get that ax out of the house! You want someone to chop off a finger?”
- Maybe one of the kids found this and brought it home. But they knew mom would never let them have an ax, so they had to find a place to hide it. Under the mattress? Too obvious. Inside a stuffed animal? Too invasive. “I know, we’ll tie a string and let it down from the porch. Mom will never suspect.”
- Could a murder have already taken place? Where would you stash the weapon? The solution of a game of Clue: “Levi with an ax in the back alley.” I don’t see any blood though.
- But I can read a number on the handle: 0527634250. A phone number? If I Google it, a get a reverse lookup website in Hebrew. My Hebrew’s not that good. But maybe I’ll call that number. “Hey, I think I know where your ax is.”
- Maybe someone is being held prisoner in that upstairs room. But they have gotten their hands on an ax. They are hiding it from the guards until one night when they plan to make their break. Could you bake something like that inside a loaf of challah?
- It could be for sale. In lieu of swip-swop, just hang your item out the window with a phone number. Call me if you’re interested.
You never know how far a blog post goes. One person reposts it, someone reads it and suddenly realizes, “There’s my ax!”