The cul-de-sac of Whispering Pines had a problem: Enzo Prout.

Enzo lived at number 42. He was a retired man of 70, with a posture like a question mark and a wardrobe mostly of beige cardigans. He seemed harmless.

However, the neighbourhood consensus was absolute: Enzo was a psycho.

Arlene, from number 44, swore she saw Enzo in his backyard at 3 a.m. He was wearing scuba fins and a welding mask, carefully measuring his lawn with a plastic school ruler.

Two days later, Gord from across the street claimed he witnessed Enzo whispering intensely into a hollowed-out butternut squash before burying it under his rose bushes.

During nights of a full moon, after midnight, Arlene saw Enzo puttering in his vegetable garden. Naked.

The basement lights in Enzo’s house were lit throughout the night, every night, casting an eerie glow over his lawn.

There was never any concrete evidence of........

© Peterborough Examiner