The Worst!

I couldn’t find it at first. The house was not much bigger than a garage. It was on the other side of a ditch, with no driveway or sidewalk crossing over the water. There was a board one could walk over, but that was all.

I didn’t see a TV antenna, and I had to look twice to see the power line running to the house. It was the only building anywhere near where the directions said, so I parked the truck and walked across the plank.

The door was open, and I could see about a half dozen kids playing inside. The lady of the house was a robust redhead who looked as if she moonlighted as a diesel mechanic.

"You must be the guy here to fix the TV," she said. "Come on in, it’s over here." I followed her inside. The first thing to hit me was the smell. It was worse than a high school locker room after the homecoming game.

The floor was littered with toys, clothes, kids, dogs, cats, and mounds of undefined matter, some of which looked hairy. No self-respecting hog would have called it a sty, but eight or so people called it home.

The TV set was a fairly big console model with rabbit ears (that’s why I hadn’t seen an antenna outside). The cabinet looked like someone had taken a raw potato and rubbed potato juice all over it and let it dry. Many times. I began wishing I had a pair of rubber gloves.

The redhead train mechanic went in the kitchen and began washing a sink full of dishes. I pulled the TV away from the wall and went behind it to remove the back. There I found a mound of what appeared to be cat shit, about 4 or 5 inches high. It had no smell. My disturbing it did not change the aroma, Thank God.

I diagnosed the problem, replaced a few tubes, made a few adjustments, and came around to the front to clean the screen. "That sure looks a lot better," said an ancient voice. I didn’t know there was anyone else in the room, and I looked in the direction of the voice.

Over in the corner was a rocking chair. It was in the gloom made by the door, and Grandma was rocking in it. She was just a harmless old senior citizen no doubt, but no Hollywood FX man could have made her look more like a Halloween witch.

Her gray hair had not been combed in a long time, and she had a long pointed nose, complete with wart. Yes, there were hairs growing out of it. She had a tooth or two missing. Had it been a dark night, I’d have probably run right out through the side wall. As it was, she only gave me quite a start.

"I didn’t know you were back there," I said to her, trying to explain my jumpiness. I cleaned the screen, filled out the bill, collected my tools, and left. I doubted we’d ever see a nickel out of this poor family.

The father of the troop, a walking broomstick, paid it in full. He worked as a janitor at the Naval Base. He had a steady income, if a small one.

I found out that Grandpa Yeoman knew this family. "Johnny and Annie? Why everybody knows about them." Several years later they moved into a house close to the community church, and proceeded to ruin it. The house, that is.

I don’t know how many kids they had, but I believe the city made Annie have her tubes tied eventually. Maybe creating kids was all the fun they ever had. Maybe it was all they knew how to do.

Whenever I think about that house, I wonder what the mounds of stuff on the floor were. On second thought, I don’t want to know.