A Stitch In Time

 

Photo credit: Robsalot (that's me!)

“I can do this myself,” I whispered under my breath as I stood in the kitchen of my brand-new house, holding a sledgehammer in my right hand.

The truth was I had to do it myself. I had spent every last cent I had saved from the last 10 years, and even though the house was new to me, it was, in fact, very old, and it needed so much work. I surveyed the cracked linoleum, crumbling plaster, broken stove, and giant hole where the fridge would have been, and took a deep breath. I raised the sledgehammer high above my head and brought it down with a mighty crack against the dingy yellow tiled counter.

“There,” I said, “no turning back now.”

The counter demo took all morning. My arms ached and my back throbbed, but it was so satisfying to toss the last broken tile on the debris pile.

After lunch I found myself back in the kitchen, sledgehammer in hand, trying to decide where to land the first blow on the dingy grey plaster wall when a voice behind me caused me to jump. The sledgehammer fell from my hand with a thump.

“Sorry neighbor,” the voice said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.

I turned towards the back door to find an older man wearing a ratty fedora, chinos, and a half-full grin.

“Oh hi,” I replied, “I’m Frankie, I just…”

“Moved in here, yes, I figured. I’m Saul, your next-door neighbor. I heard you making a racket in hear all morning and thought I better welcome you to the neighborhood. Thought it might be the polite thing to do.”

“Oh, yes, sorry, I am so sorry about the noise. I should have come over and introduced myself and let you know I was starting to remodel. I hope it wasn’t too annoying.”

“Oh no, that’s fine, I can just turn the volume up on my tv. Though I say, if you get any louder, I’m gonna have to get surround sound or somethin’ cause the knob on my old set won’t turn any farther.

“No, no louder, I promise, I am just going to demo this plaster.”

“What, why would you do that?” the old man sneered. “That plaster just needs a little patching is all.”

“Hmm,” I replied, as I looked at the dingy crumbling wall again.

“Anyway,” the old man replied, “I’m going back to my shows now, you take care.”

The old man was creepy, that was probably why I didn’t take his advice. Well, that and I didn’t want to cut any corners. So I picked up my sledgehammer, and I swung it as hard as my sore arms could handle, and the wall crumbled away under the blow.

“Whew,” I said, wiping the sweaty dust from my brow, and then a saw it, sitting on the other side of the wall. A hand made ragdoll, holding a rusty knife.

“Oh hell no,” I shouted, as I dropped the sledgehammer and ran out of the house.

"I told you not to tear out the wall" Saul yelled over the fence.