Service before Self - Chpt 2

Chapter 2

 

For the next twenty minutes we rode, not speaking.  Only the voice of the GPS filled the cab, all the way to the city of Upland and to the address on the sheet.

As we pulled up in front of the house Ryan turned the engine off, taking the clipboard, flipping through the day's assignments.

"Nice place," I said lightly, unsnapping my seat belt.

"What's the company motto?" he asked, without looking up.

"What?" I asked trying to figure out if it were a trick question or not.

"Company motto... know what it is?" he repeated with more aggression than the first time.

"Service before self," I answered feeling relieved it jumped into my head at that moment.

"Have any idea what it means?"

     "It’s a slogan.  It’s supposed to give people the warm and fuzzies," I explained. 

"Wrong.  It does mean something... It means everything.  It means the second you open that door and step out of this truck you are a professional in every aspect possible," he said, pointing an angry finger at me.

"Yeah, sure," I said certain his trolley had just jumped the rails.

"Look, you keep your eyes straight ahead... always look to the customer.  If you're in a nice house and looking around they think you're casing the place... if you're in a crap house, they think you're looking down your nose at them.  Never give them the chance to think that.  Never react to what you see, what you hear, what you smell... understand?"

"I do.  I get it," 

"Service before self," he said sternly too reinforce.

"I got it," I said with a nod.  I was confused by his Jeckel and Hyde attitude. 

He turned his attention to the clipboard again.  

"Telephone trouble.  Alright newbie..." he started.

    "It's Toby.  My name is Toby," I said offering my hand.

"You haven't earned a name newbie.  You ride for a month, you do the job and you get a name... not before.  Now, move your a*s.  Grab a flashlight, and a ladder," Ryan instructed, opening his door.  

He was pissing me off again.  I removed the flashlight from its holder on the dash and then the ladder from my side of the truck.

By the time I made it to the back of the vehicle, Ryan was there waiting for me.

He had buttoned his shirt all the way to the top of his collar and was now retying his hair.

Once done, he marched straight up the walk to the front door and rang the bell.

The house, a craftsman, built in the early thirties, was white with a blue trim, looked new compared to many in the neighborhood.  The well manicured lawn was beautiful in all regards. 

The soft, deep hollow thump of someone walking on hardwood floors greeted us, coming our way.

"Service before self," he whispered to me without turning, a moment later the door swung open.

Standing before us was an elderly woman who appeared to be in her early seventies.  She was dressed modestly in a floral top which had been tucked into black slacks with a thin silver belt.  Too my surprise she was bare foot with different colored toe polish on each foot.  Her right had been painted in a soft pink while the left in a sparkling green.  She wore her hair, short, no more than an inch or so long and was an attractive light gray.  Her pale skin, although only slightly wrinkled, appeared much smoother on her face than on her hands or arms, both lightly populated by cinnamon colored spots.

"Mrs. Conroy?  I'm Ryan.  I understand you're having problems with your phone.

"Yes, please come in," she said gesturing toward the inside.  "Please excuse the mess, I was just trying some new polish.  I got a hot date tonight," she joked.

The house was neat, very orderly, not a lamp, a magazine or paper clip out of place.

Sitting on the coffee table were three used cotton balls smeared with pink polish, a small bottle of acetone, and two tiny bottles of polish representing the colors she now wore. 

"Not a problem.  Can you show me where your phone is?" Ryan asked, not looking left or right.

His words echoed in my mind.  I had never thought about it before but now with his voice firmly stuck in my head I found it hard not to look about the woman's house.  It was as if in his telling me not too, it was the only thing my body wanted to do.  My neck suddenly grew painfully stiff as I fought with myself not to look the house over.

"It's over here.  I know I should get one of those new fangled wireless things like my friend Pania, she's from New Zealand, came over here with her folks when she was twelve.  Sakes alive nearly my age now, not that you would know with how she carries on.  Why just last week, she and Ned McConahay..."

"Yes ma'am, your phone," Ryan interrupted, touching the woman's arm lightly. 

"Oh my.  Where's my head?  Thinking about tonight I suppose, all butterflies in side... doing it again aren't I?  Of course I am.  This way, this way.  I know how busy you men can be," she gushed, suddenly turning a bright red with embarrassment. 

She was trying to walk on her heels as if the polish on her toes would be ruined if she didn't, leading us to the far corner of the room.

"Haven't seen one of those for awhile," I quipped as she stopped in front of a small table with a rotary phone sitting at its center... a dull black of course.

At the instant the words left my mouth I could feel the heat of Ryan's stare.

     "It works perfectly fine.  You wouldn't throw something away if it worked perfectly fine would you?  Its not new but... you don't think that's what the problem is do you?"  she asked, placing a trembling hand to her throat.

"No ma'am, we don't think anything at all, its to early to tell and we wouldn't want to guess," Ryan soothed, giving me a look that would cut through steel.

"Sorry," I offered lightly as he pushed passed me, kneeling in front of the table.

He didn't even look at me, instead he pulled a small, compact apparatus from his shirt pocket, unplugging the phone and replaced it with the device.

"No ma'am, its not your phone.  See this indicator?  It would light up green if there were power here and there's not," he explained.

"It was working just yesterday... Ned McConahay rang me up and asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him.  I was stunned, never knew the man to pass up a free meal but he said he was willing to pay, so I said..."

"No ma'am, it means the line has been broken or is shut off," Ryan continued.

"Lands sake... I pay my bills.  Always have, always will.  Never once had them shut off," she countered defensively, folding her arms.

"It means something has broken the line... rats most likely.  They like to chew the insulation," he said, standing, slipping his phone tester back into his pocket.

"Rats?  Could be.  I hear the little varmints running around the attic sometimes at night," she said relieved. 

"Let's take a look and we can fix it for you easy.  Wouldn't want you to miss a call from Ned," Ryan consoled.

"Thank you young man, that's very nice of you.  Do you know Ned?  He's a delightful man really just a little frugal that's all. 

"Were are my manners?  Would you care for a cup of coffee?  My poor departed husband Clarence, gone five years now, drank twenty cups a day.  I don't care for it much myself but the smell of it makes me feel like he's still here," she said as she walked toward the kitchen, unaware of the fact that neither Ryan or I had moved.

"Get the ladder and keep your f*****g mouth closed," he snapped.

"You're right," I said in apology.

"No thank you Mrs. Conroy.  We're not allowed to take anything from our customers," he returned in a cheerful voice without missing a beat.

I sprinted to the front door, retrieving the ladder from the porch where we had left it before entering.

"This way," she said, singing the words rather than just saying them.

I caught a glimpse of the rest of the house as I followed Ryan, who followed her, down the hall to a back bedroom.

Although the living room and kitchen appeared to be full and comfortable, the back end of the house seemed nearly empty of furnishings and personal belongings by comparison.

"This is my room.  The attic panel is in the closet," she said gesturing for us to enter before her.

The room held a full sized bed, pushed against one wall, a tall boy dresser and two night stands, each with a matching lamp, all complemented the other with its beautiful, dark color and hand built appearance.  Nothing in the room spoke of particle board.  On the floor, an area rug, made of multicolored woven rags, covered virtually every square inch of the polished hardwood floor.

I jostled about with the ladder making sure not to come close to the furnishings, fearful of nicking them if I did, making my way to the closet,  a double walk-in, almost as large as the bedroom itself,  fit with a set of double, white louvered doors.  I set the ladder up under the hatch cover leading into the attic and then stepped back.

"I'd better get a broom, taking the cover off always makes a mess," Mrs. Conroy said, almost absentmindedly before leaving us alone.

"Get up there, Ryan snarled as soon as she left.

"Me?  I thought you wanted..." I started.

"Hell no.  I hate rats, besides you're the newbie," he said pointing up the ladder with his thumb.

"Fine," I groused and climbed to the top, shifting the lid to one side.

"You'll need this," Ryan said, handing me the flashlight.

I climbed to the top, standing waist deep in the attic.  I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, flipping on the flashlight.  I turned, lifting myself up on my toes to scan the whole of the attic.  As I came around, there in front of me, not more than three feet away, sat two of the largest, meanest looking rats I had ever seen.  To my surprise, they were now chewing on the insulation of an electrical line.

     My heart jumped hard into my throat as I tried to swallow.

At that moment, the light from my flashlight began to dim, dwindling with each passing moment as if the batteries were about to die.  I shook it wildly in an effort to get it to work again and for a moment... a very brief moment it grew brighter.  As I shook it all the harder, I accidentally struck the rafter upon which the rats had been sitting, sending them running.

They both moved so fast I was stunned with disbelief.  Unfortunately, the smaller of the two ran away from me...  the larger did the opposite, running straight for me.

In that instant, as my life passed before my eyes, the beast traveled the distance between us along the rafter before running up the flashlight, continuing up my arm to my shoulder.  I could feel its rough, dirty, fur brush against my neck as it reached my jugular.  The squeak it let out pushed me over the edge and it was all I could handle.  

I screamed, throwing the flashlight in the air, loosing my balance on the ladder... and fell. 

As the ground rushed up to meet me, out of reflex, I reached out in a effort to stop myself, grabbing the closet pole on my way down.  It broke in response to my passing.  I hit the floor with a loud thunk, knocking the wind out of me.  A split second later, I was joined by the rat, who landed on my chest and then, suddenly, we were both buried under a stack of clothing from the broken pole.

Mrs. Conroy began to scream and proceeded to beat wildly with the broom, striking me several times in an effort to kill the rat as it ran in circles inside the closet.  Tangled in the clothing, I scrambled to get to my feet, but was knocked back to the floor by her continuing efforts.

Ryan shouted for me to get out of the way.  Mrs. Conroy was screaming and I was yelling trying to get her to stop hitting me.

At last, thinking quickly, Ryan grabbed a sweater from the floor, throwing it over the rat, wrapping it up tightly in its folds. 

The three of us just stood there, trying to catch our breath and take in all that had just happened along with its resulting damage.

The rat squirmed in its confines, trying to break free of Ryan's grip, complaining loudly and everyone began to laugh.

"You're not going to hurt the poor thing are you?" she asked with genuine concern.

     "It's a rat," Ryan said flatly, giving her a confused look.

"Well, I would say, its my house so that makes it my rat.  I would like you to set it free.  There's an empty lot two blocks over... that will do nicely if you please," she said sharply, lifting her chin to look down her nose.

"Done," Ryan said pleasantly, making his way to the front door.

I followed him outside for lack of knowing what else to do.

"Take this newbie," he said with irritation, pushing the writhing rat into my hands.  It squirmed endlessly trying to get free of the sweater.

Before I realized it, Ryan jumped into the truck, starting the engine.

"You coming or you gonna walk?" He called impatiently.

"I'm coming," I said unable to hide the little panic that seeped into my voice.

I barely got the door closed, when he took off like his house was on fire.  The tires cried rounding the corner and faster than you could say Engleburt Humperdink we pulled into an empty lot.

      "Hold still damn you," I cursed, shaking the rodent harshly in an effort to get it to hold still and reaffirm my grip before it could escape.

"Get out," Ryan ordered, reaching across me to open the door.

I struggled to get out, trying to balance my weight and my desire not to get bit, shaking the little b*****d again to get him to calm down.  I walked several feet away from the truck, snapping the sweater like a new blanket, releasing the rodent into the wild.

It flew through the air, its little legs outstretched as if it knew what was coming or had decided to do its best Superman impression and hit the ground running.

Ryan and I stood there for a moment as it ran for cover, burying itself in the tall weeds at the back of the lot.

"We have to hurry," he said at last, dusting himself off.

"We do?" I said turning to him.

"Didn't you see how that thing took off?" he said pointing in the direction the rat had traveled.

"Yeah.  I did."

     "The little b*****d is racing us back to the house to tell the old lady you shook him," he said in all seriousness.

     I smiled at his joke, maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after all.

 

 

 

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This chapter was much easier reading than the first. I especially love the way you express the ridiculous degree of company allegiance with both exaggeration & humor, toward the beginning. There are too many typos to mention, but the most distracting to the reading are excess commas. It causes one to stop & re-read often, to figure out how it's supposed to be read. The scene where he falls off the ladder & lands with the rat & a pile of clothing . . . this passage could be smoothed out some, so it can be read as quickly as it happened. It's a great scene & I'm just thinking it could be even stronger. Also, you nailed the annoying way this older woman was blathering on & on. I was getting annoyed by her meaningless interruptions, but I know it's essential to the story.

[Mia]

I’m so glad for the ending...turns out Ryan isn’t all bad. The rat adventure made for a great laugh and I thoroughly enjoyed it...mainly because I was reading about it and not living it!

[Wendy Seames Garner]

Am I having deja vu or is this the same as the previous chapter?