A Story by Howard Schneider

 

 

 What's That Bathtub Doing Out There? by Howard Schneider

          “What's that bathtub doing out there in the front yard?” Mr. Mannik screamed at the top of his lungs as he rushed into his lovingly restored 1923 bungalow through the wide-open front door. “What's going on here?” he yelled up the stairs leading from the entryway to the second floor where he heard the scuffing sound of something heavy being scooted across his oak flooring. “Who's up here?” he said as he reached the top stair, out of breath and seriously on the verge of hyperventilating.

          “Who do ya think it is? It's me, Charlie Kooch, the plumber,” the man said as he stepped out of the master bath into the hall, a crescent wrench in one hand, a faucet set in the other. “And Alonzo.”
          “What's that bathtub doing out there in the front yard?” Mr. Mannik asked again, this time approaching a state of panic when he saw his new Toto toilet sitting in the middle of the hallway. “I didn't call any plumber. This is a big mistake. Put this toilet back. And look at the gouges in the floor! It was just refinished last week! And how did you get in here, anyway?”
          “Look mister, I don't know what your problem is, but I got a work order right here,” Kooch said, pulling a dirty wrinkled paper out the back pocket of his filthy overalls. He unfolded it with his grimy oversized hands and shoved it at Mr. Mannik. “Here, read this. And your neighbor lady let me in when I told her we had this job to do.”
          Mr. Mannik quickly scanned the order for a master bathroom make-over, unable to comprehend how such a mix-up could have happened. Then he saw it.     
          “You have the wrong house!” he cried.
          “What da ya mean, wrong house? That's your number, ain't it? 3335. And this is 34^th Avenue ain't it?”
          Mr. Mannik was flabbergasted, “Yes it certainly is, but Northeast 34^th, not Southeast as it says on your work order. See, right here!”
          Kooch looked where Mr. Mannik pointed, blinked twice, then scratched the side of his bald head, leaving another blotch of gray grease behind. “Oh yea, I guess you're right.” Looking back over his shoulder toward the bathroom, he yelled, “Hey, Alonzo, leave that sink where it is. Wrong house again. You gotta pay more attention to the addresses, man. Pack up the tools, we gotta go.”
          “Hey wait a minute, you have to put everything back where it goes. The bathtub, the toilet. And hook the sink back up. And the gouges in my new floor have to be repaired,” Mr. Mannik said, trying hard in his flustered state to sound forceful.
          “Yea, sure, no problem. Call Hazel at the office to make an appointment. She's in most Wednesdays from 9 to 2. We might be able to get back here in a week or so unless somebody drops an emergency on us,” Kooch said as he started down the stairs.
           “Have a nice day, sir,” he added as he slid his greasy hand down Mr. Mannik's recently restored wave-grained black walnut bannister.

 

 Howard Schneider  3.6.15