Across the street, lived a lovely, elderly couple for years. Dorothy suffered numerous health problems that resulted in her going into a nursing home. Her husband, Steve, got cancer and died a year later. With both parents gone from the house, Steve the Son moved in.
Steve will wave when he drives by, but mostly keeps to himself. He’s a slow talker and when he actually does have a conversation, he will say that the goddamn taxes on the house are killing him and he’s putting the place up for sale. He has been saying that for eight years.
One day when there wasn’t anyone else around, I needed to enlist Steve the Son’s help.
Our street was getting sealed and all the cars had to be off by the time the crew came. The job had been postponed due to weather four different times and so I’d forgotten about it. On that day, I noticed that there weren’t any cars on the street except The Big Daddy’s with the stickshift that I don’t know how to drive so I knocked on Steve’s door to see if he could move it for me.
Oh, and one other thing………..The Big Daddy’s car had a back tire with a slow leak that he would inflate with his bicycle pump on the rare occasion that he drove it. I kid you not.
“Well……I……can’t…….move……it……with…….a…….flat.”
Oh, but it’s o.k. Here, Steve, watch. Just go up and down with the bike pump. See? If you keep doing that, Steve, it will inflate and then you can move it. Steve.
And he looked at me like I was crazy.
“I…….think……..you……..better……call………..Mark……..for…………this.”
Well, I’ve been trying but he’s in a meeting and I can’t get a hold of him.
“Call……..his……secretary.”
His what?
“Tell……her…….you’ve…….got…….a……9…….1……..1…….emergency.”
Sheesh, Steve, it’s a car that needs to be moved not a dead body.
“Then……..tell……the…..secretary……..it’s………urgent.”
He doesn’t even have a secretary.
“He……should………get………one…….for…….when…….there’s……an…….emergency.”
We went back and forth like that for awhile until I sent him home because he was yanking on my last nerve. Since that day he keeps even more to himself when I’m around and avoids me like I’m the the tax collector.
All because I asked for a little favor.
