Mrs. Fielding was an older woman whose home had been converted into a boarding house. Hosting logging workers for many years, she looked over her boarders with a motherly eye. Dinner was served promptly at 7:30 and Jarod ate heartily at the landlady's well stocked table, hungry after his first day of work as a logger. He chatted with Mrs. Fielding as she bustled back and forth to the kitchen.

Jarod met the other boarders, including a feller and a bucker from another crew over at ABC. Jovially, Brian and Eric filled Jarod in on the gossip of the company. A trucker, Phil, showed Jarod pictures of his two daughters who lived with his wife down in Arizona. It turned out that Brian and Eric had worked with Ted up until a year ago, but they were chary of speaking about a fellow logger with a stranger. Jarod made a mental note to gain the confidence of the two men. They could have helpful information.

After dinner, Jarod visited Mrs. Fielding in her small parlor. The large living room in the house was set aside for the boarders, who watched TV mostly and played checkers occasionally. Mrs. Fielding had her own private parlor where she did needlepoint while watching television. Seeing Jarod at the door, she signaled him to come in.

"How are you, Jarod? Are you settling in OK? Do you know, you remind me of my dear, departed husband, Phillip. You have that same look and I can see that same twinkle in your eye." She smiled at him.

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Fielding. I'm settling in just fine. I wanted to thank you for the excellent meal this evening. I've never had, what did you call it again?"

"Meatloaf?"

Jarod smiled. "Yes. Meatloaf. It was very good."

"Thank you." The matronly woman blushed. "You speak very educated for a logger, Mr. Dougherty. I like that. My Phillip was a well-spoken man. It's a trait he much admired, as do I. You're welcome to sit with me and watch the television a while."

"Call me Jarod." He sat on a doily-covered sofa, old but in good condition. It was a strange fabric, he noticed, and was slippery. Could it be made of horse hair? Jarod examined the sofa for a few moments and then looked around him. A large photo graced the top of the television set, an older, smiling man on it. "Is that Phillip?" he asked.

"That's him. Poor man. Struck down in the prime of life." Mrs. Fielding said.

"What happened?"

"Heart attack. Ten years ago. Completely unexpected. He worked for the logging company. He wasn't a logger, mind you, he was an accountant. He did the books, handled a lot of the paperwork, filed the taxes, that kind of thing. Worked for ABC until he passed away."

"I'm sorry."

Mrs. Fielding nodded, her lips tightening and her eyes sad.

Jarod turned his attention to the television. "What is this?" he asked as much to change the subject as out of curiosity in the program. On the somewhat fuzzy screen, Men with strange accents were dressed as women.

"Haven't you ever seen Monty Python? It's British." She looked from the television to Jarod. He cocked his head, looking closely at the television screen as the 'ladies' were suddenly attacking each other, slinging purses and kicking. His eyes widened as he took in the melee. Mrs. Fielding was chuckling.

"Phillip loved the British humor," Mrs. Fielding explained. "I got in the habit and now all these years later I still watch it. The public television shows a lot of it, so I get my fill. It makes me laugh."

"This is funny?" Jarod asked.

"Well, it isn't everyone's cup of tea but yes, I think its pretty funny." Mrs. Fielding chuckled at a second scene similar to the first.

Jarod watched, entranced. He tried to find the humor. There had been little enough humor at The Centre, but since he'd been out his exposure to humor had given him some perspective. This wasn't anything like he'd seen before. There was a laugh track, Jarod noticed. The men were saying ridiculous things and appeared to be, Jarod thought, the ugliest women he had ever seen.

With part of his brain, Jarod listened to the television. With another part, he thought over what he'd learned today. He had a few suspects, the most prominent of which was the Forest United leader. He planned the next steps in his investigation.

Suddenly his attention was drawn to the television. Mrs. Fielding was laughing quite loudly. A man was holding a large birdcage with a fake parrot lying in the bottom. He was explaining to a shop owner that the bird was dead. He watched intently.

Humor, he thought, was about the unexpected. It was about the absurd. It was about the incongruous. Suddenly it came to him. Suddenly the incongruity of the skit hit Jarod and he laughed. Why, he thought, it actually is quite funny. Ridiculous, really. Why hadn't he ever noticed this before? It was amazing. There wasn't anything traditionally funny but the utter unexpected absurdity of the situation brought about a reaction he had never expected. He laughed so loudly that Mrs. Fielding gave him an odd look. Jarod continued to watch the program until it ended, taking in more and more ridiculous sketches in studious silence followed by nearly hysterical laughter.

"Thank you." He said simply to Mrs. Fielding, when the program ended. Jarod left Mrs. Fielding in her parlor with a puzzled look on her face. He headed for his attic room, remembering the British humor and laughing.