Walt Trizna's Blog, page 37

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART X

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART X

As soon as he walked in he remarked, “I’d say you have a plumbing problem.  This place smells like a sewage treatment plant.”

By now my patience was wearing thin, “Thanks for pointing that out, I hadn’t really noticed.”  Once I got that out of my system, I asked if he had talked to the wife. 

“Talked to her right after you called me; that is one pissed-off woman.  Asked her what I should do with the truck if Dave doesn’t return for it.  She told me what I could do with it and hung up.”

I could see Officer Marks was as anxious to get involved in this mess as I was.  He checked around the house, spent as little time in the bathroom as possible and said he would send a tow truck in the morning if Dave had not snuck back to get his vehicle.

That night I slept in the guest room.

About mid-morning a tow truck arrived and took away the van.  I phoned a cleaning service and told them about the mess I needed cleaned up.  They came out and in a few hours the house was restored to normal, but I was starting to wonder what that means for my dream home.

Months passed; I contacted the police a few times to see if they had located Dave.  They said they hadn’t.  I did not call Mrs. Dave Watson Jr., but I occasionally thought about Dave, especially when the plumbing acted up, and what could have happened to him when he left our house.  In the meantime, our household had settled into a daily routine.  Laura found a local real-estate job and was getting to know the area and making new friends.  Robin was settled in her new school and getting to know the local kids.  I had set up my office and started crunching data and writing papers.  We had now been in our new house for half a year, and during my workday, I would stop and stare out my window at the huge oak trees and open fields that are mine and think how lucky we are to have found this house.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART IX

               PLUMBING PROBLEMS IX

“Hang on,” she said, “I’ll try his cell phone.”  She came back on the line and said her call to Dave could not be completed; something was wrong with his cell phone.  I wasn’t prepared for her next response.

She half shouted and half cried, “That bastard!”

There was more to come.

“He’s with his slut, that son of a bitch.  That’s the only place he can be.”  Debbie continued with an explanation that I really didn’t need to hear.  “We had just been married a year, and I knew I wasn’t his first girlfriend, but I figured I’d be the last.  Dave had accepted a job from a woman new to the area and I found out he was servicing more than just her plumbing.  No that’s wrong, he was servicing her plumbing.”  Debbie wailed, “That’s the only place he could be, and if that’s where he is he can go to hell!”

As fast as I could, I offered to let her know if Dave returned, said good-bye and hung up.  I needed to have my plumbing fixed and not to be in the middle of a marital dispute.

I searched around the house and walked the fields again but there was no sign of Dave.  By now night was approaching.  With reluctance I called the police.  I related to the officer Dave’s disappearance and also about my conversation with his wife. 

“Sounds like a sticky situation,” came the officer’s reply.  He continued, “I’ll phone the wife. She’s the one that has to file a missing person report.  After I talk to her I’ll take a run out to your place and see if I can figure out what is going on.”

I said I’d be watching for him, hung up and looked into having the mess upstairs cleaned up.  A few hours later a police car pulled up behind Dave’s truck.  By now it was quite dark, so I put on the outside lights and saw a policeman walking towards the front door.  He introduced himself as Officer Marks and I asked him in.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART VIII

                    PLUMBING PROBLEMS VIII

 While Robin was involved with her various activities, I busied myself with some errands.  After a few hours we returned home and as we approached the house, I was surprised to see Dave’s truck still in my driveway.  I got Robin settled with a snack and a video we had rented, then proceeded upstairs to see how things are coming along.  I thought Dave would be long gone by now.  The fact that he was still here was not a good sign; a big bill was heading my way.  Halfway up the stairs, I was greeted by a horrible stench that started me gagging.  I made it up the stairs and opened some of the windows.  The house smelled like Porto-John on a hot summer day.  I was not really prepared for what I found in the master bathroom.  Dave’s tools were scattered over the floor, but Dave wasn’t there.  Yellowish goo, inches deep in some places, covered the bathroom floor.  The smell in the bathroom was horrible, smelling as if the septic system had backed up and that smell was combined with another smell that defied description.  I hurried from the bathroom and started calling for Dave.  I went outside for some fresh air and took a short walk around the property.  Jack was working in his field, so I asked if he had seen anyone walking around my place.  Jack just shook his head and went back to his work.  Finally, I phoned Dave’s office and was greeted by the voice of a young woman who introduced herself as Debbie Watson and asked how she could help me.  I told her who I was and that Dave’s truck was still at my house but I couldn’t find Dave and my plumbing problems were getting worse.  Debbie’s voice changed from that of a professional secretary to a worried wife and then to something else.  She suddenly sounded furious.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART VII

                    PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART VII

As the weeks went by, my mind was occupied by the problems I was having with the plumbing.  I drove down to the hardware store and bought every drain cleaner known to man, but nothing worked to clear the sinks. But then, they would clear spontaneously.  I talked to Jack and some of the other locals about a recommendation for a plumber, someone reliable and not too expensive.  They told me about a plumber everyone used that had just retired and the business had been taken over by his son, a young newlywed who was eager to build up his clientele and reputation, so I gave him a call.  Two days later he drove up our driveway.  DAVE’S PLUMBING was the sign displayed on the side of the panel truck.  I opened the front door; we shook hands and he introduced himself.

“How’re you doing sir?  I’m Dave Watson Jr. Now what exactly is the problem?”

I described the intermittent clogging of the drains, what I had tried and that nothing seems to work.  Dave was a young man, in his mid-twenties, and eager to tackle the job.  “I’ll check it out.  Could be,” he said, “that you’re cleaning some of the build-up on the walls of the pipes and that’s causing the drain to appear cleared.  But the cleared opening is so small the slightest material going down the drain will just clog it again.  A snake should ream out the pipes and clear up your problem just fine.”

My wife was gone visiting her sister for a couple of days and Robin needed to be run around as usual, so I asked Dave if he would mind being left alone for a while.  If he was done before I returned, he could lock the front door and mail me the bill.

“No problem,” came his reply, “you take care of your girl and I’ll see to the plumbing.”

With the owner and his child gone, Dave went out to his truck to gather what tools he needed.  He first noticed the smell as he approached the master bathroom, a horrible odor that convinced Dave that things were backing up in there.  He opened the door to an unspeakable sight, he turned to run but was grasped by the neck and pulled to the floor.  The stinging pain was followed by paralysis as he helplessly viewed his attacker, then thought ceased.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART VI

                                        PLUMBING PROBLES: PART VI                                

Jack continued, “I had spread word around the community that people should stay away from the property; there is something wrong about that place.  Whenever I saw a car drive up, which wasn’t often because the place was so remote, I warned, “This place is no good.  It’s strange.”

I asked him, “How can you say that?”  The house is a wonderful place to live.” 

Jack replied, “I know it’s a great property, but there is something wrong.   I pressed him to go on.  “One day, while walking through the field you now own, I found something strange near the pond,” he stated.  “The first thing I noticed was the smell, a God-awful smell that made me gag; then I saw it.  It was lying on the ground, about eight feet long.  Been dead for some time I would say.  Had a head shaped like a pipe.”

I looked at him, unable to picture a head shaped like a pipe.

He continued, “Had fins too, so I think it was some kind of fish.  Damndest thing I ever saw.  The fins at the bottom of its body were huge.  I thought – what the hell is that doing here and what the hell is it.  I buried the damn thing to get rid of it and the stench.  There was also one night I couldn’t sleep, decided to take me a walk.  I was at the edge of my property and looked over at your pond and saw the damndest thing.  There were things in the pond glowing and swimming around.  I said to myself, “That’s it!  This place is no good.  Then when I heard the owner had gone missing, I just tried to keep people away.  Did a good job too, until you came along.  Be careful in that house, something just ain’t right.”  With that he walked to his tractor and continued his work.

I thought about Jack’s description of the strange occurrences on my property.  A head shaped like a pipe, that was the part that made me think that Jack had a libation or two before he made his discovery, or maybe forgot to take some medication.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART V

                     PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART V

The house had been on the market a long time, with the downturn of the economy not helping, but the realtor could not understand why there was so little interest in the property.  So, when Laura and I came along, the family of Marcus Worthy was happy to sell, and I sometimes wonder if I could have gotten the price a little lower.

We sold our old house and the three of us moved into our new farmhouse along with our cat Molly.  It wasn’t long before I discovered the first problem with our house, and it turned out to be the only real problem I could find.  The sinks, especially the one in the master bedroom, would clog up periodically.   It was weird though, because sometimes I didn’t treat the sink and it would unclog by itself.  Other than the plumbing, the house was perfect.

Situated on the southeastern edge of the property, our back and western windows look out on our land.  Not far from the eastern edge of our property stood a split rail fence and it is over this fence while out walking, that I met my neighbor Jack Small.  Jack was in his late seventies and sat perched on an ancient tractor; he gave me a wave and shut her down, walked my way with hands in the pockets of his bib overalls, his work boots kicked at the newly turned earth.

“So, you’re my new neighbor,” he shouted as I noticed a hearing aide in each ear.

  I introduced myself and told him about my family.  He then told me about his.  Jack was a widower and had grown children in New Jersey and Virginia.  They visited and brought their children, but for the most part he was on his own.

“Sorry you moved in here,” he continued.   This comment startled me.  He saw my expression and hurriedly said, “Let me explain.  I guess I didn’t hear you coming up the road when you came to look at the house.” 

I focused on his hearing aids.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART IV

                              PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART IV

At closing, my wife and I learned a little more about the former owner from his sister Joan.  “My brother,” she explained, “was Marcus Worthy, a scientist interested in both marine biology and genetics.”  She went on to tell us that Marcus was part of a group involved in a start-up company, which discovered a breakthrough drug for the treatment of cancer.  Joan said that her brother made a fortune with his investments in the company while working in their research department, but the company bureaucracy began to get in the way of his research methods, and he quit.  He liked to dabble, do a few experiments that interested him and then move on to something new, answering his own questions and not the company’s.

Joan said, “His studies were in natural occurring substances existing in marine life.  He studied the venom of mollusks and sea snakes, was intrigued by the fact sharks were immune to infection.  His mind was full of questions he wanted to answer but the company had no interest in such work and so, in frustration, he resigned.  Worthy found this house in rural Pennsylvania, sunk a great deal of money into renovations, and there he would study and live his life on his own terms.  He never married and his only contact with the rest of the world was through me, his sister.  By his own choice, he slipped away from society.”

Then Joan recalled, “One day I realized that I had not heard from my brother for an unusually long period of time.  I tried calling for days but got no response, so I decided to pay him a visit.  I had never visited before and had some difficulty locating the house.  After parking on the circular drive, I went up the few steps to the screened porch and rang the doorbell.  There was no answer.  I tried the door and was surprised to find the door open.  I entered the darkened house and proceeded to search every room but found no sign of my brother.  I did find spoiled food in the refrigerator, moldy dishes in the sink and an ungodly mess in the bathroom, but no indication of what had happened to Marcus.  It was as if my brother had just decided to leave one day, but then outside I found his car.  I hadn’t a clue as to what happened to him.  I thought that perhaps he took a walk and fell victim to an accident.  I checked with the local police and hospitals, but they had no knowledge of his whereabouts.  I filed a missing person’s report with the police, and in a confused state, left for home.  No one ever saw my brother again.”

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART III

                    PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART III

  I’m Joe Crestman, a thirty-eight-year-old research scientist working in the pharmaceutical industry.  I’ve always loved to tinker, and with a scientist friend in another company, came up with a new technology for isolating mitochondrial DNA.  We managed to patent the idea and were soon selling the technology to other companies, which resulted in a nice side income.  I also managed to talk my boss into letting me work out of my home two days a week, crunching data and preparing papers.  With the increased income and time away from the office, Laura and I decided to buy a house in the country.  On a beautiful spring afternoon, driving down a narrow two-lane road, we saw the For Sale sign long before we saw the house.  Just the seclusion had me sold.  When we finally did see the house, we were both impressed.  A long circular gravel drive led to a red two-story farmhouse set amongst tall oak trees.  The house sat on a twenty-acre parcel of land with a barn and pond behind the house.  The pond was more like a lake with a boat dock and small beach.  We drove up to the house, looked inside and around the property, and immediately knew it was a house we could not afford.  “Sorry honey”, I told Laura, “I think this house is way out of our league.”  Laura’s a part-time real estate agent and knew from experience that I was probably right. 

“Probably costs a ton,” she answered, “but I’m going to check it out anyway.”  She copied down the realtor’s number, and we set out looking for more For Sale signs.

I forgot about the house, or at least tried to, because it was exactly what I wanted in a house and land.  We had the extra income coming in but not enough to afford that house.  My wife, however, went ahead and called the realtor.  What she discovered shocked us.  The house cost much less than we had anticipated.  In fact, the house had been on the market quite a while and the price had been reduced several times.  The house was up for sale since the owner disappeared; that’s all the realtor, new in the office, could tell us. The owner’s family wanted to sell the property as soon as possible and get on with their lives.   Laura and I had found our dream house.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART II

                  

                       PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART II

My eight-year-old daughter Robin was crying uncontrollably; her cat Molly was missing.  My wife Laura and I searched the entire house with no luck.

Trying to comfort Robin, I suggested, “She’ll turn up, she always has before,” but my efforts were useless.  In frustration, Robin ran out of the house crying out for Molly while Laura and I continued to search. Later Robin returned covered in mud, dejected, and ran up to her room and slammed the door. 

While Robin was crying in her room, I went upstairs to the master bathroom to clean up and could not believe the sight that awaited me.  The place was a mess.  There was a thick yellow slime all over the sink, flowing onto the floor, and the smell was horrible.  Neither Laura nor Robin knew anything about the condition of the bathroom.  Normally that would have set me off, but considering Robin’s current fragile condition, I thought it better to let the matter drop.

PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART I

Published by Hadrosaur Press in Hadrosaur Tales Volume 21 in 2004. At one time Writers Digest considered Hadrosaur Press one of the 100 best websites for writers. I had a great deal of fun writing this story using my science background.

The story will appear in multiple posts. Hope you stick with it.

                 PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART I                                                                                                                                                                        

Marcus Worthy purchased the farmhouse and 20 acres of property in rural Pennsylvania two years ago.  He immediately started the renovations required for the barn, and now the renovations for the house and barn were completed long ago.  Marcus had a few decorating chores to complete, and his house would be to his liking.  Grabbing two paintings, a hammer, and some picture hooks, he headed for the master bathroom.  As he was hanging the pictures on the wall opposite the sink, he suddenly felt a constriction around his chest and a stinging sensation.  He withered to the floor and lay motionless, paralyzed while he was slowly engulfed.