Bad Plumbing

As soon as Jack Nory pulled up outside his mother's house, he knew there was going to be trouble. For parked outside her six bedroom Victorian manor house, nestled firmly in the middle of nowhere, was parked a plumbing van. He saw the 1973 white transit van with Richard's Head Plumbing Specialist cheaply painted on the side, and knew this fellow was not going to be legitimate.

Using his spare key he made his way into the front parlor. "Mother, mother where are you dear," he cried.

Normally on his visits she would be in the kitchen baking one of her delicious family recipe meat pies, or maybe in the back garden pruning her roses.

First he went into the kitchen, expecting his nostrils to be in for a treat. Nothing. He went over to the sink to wash his hands, and as he turned the taps, no water appeared.

Next he went into the back of the house. Surely she would be there, enjoying her Saturday afternoon in her lavish garden. Again he was disappointed. Remembering the plumber's van, he decided to venture downstairs into the basement, where the water heater was.

As soon as he pulled back the door under the staircase he could hear her.

"So you think it all needs to be replaced?" she was saying.

Pushing open the door, he saw his mother, who was as always delighted to see him.

"Hello Jack!" she said, "This nice fellow Dick was just telling me that we need to re-pipe the entire house- and he has just finished putting in this lovely thousand gallon water heater!"

I stared at Dick Head, standing there in his stained blue overalls, with his fake cheesy grin.

"Aye, that is correct luv!" he nodded at me, "I reckon it will be a good two weeks work mind you."

"But," I interjected firmly, "the plumbing in this house is less than eight years old, and the water heater was replaced less than five years ago, there is no way it needed replacing."

"Oh my goodness!' my mother said "You mean I didn't have to spend twenty thousand pound on a new one after all?"

It was at that moment that the plumber's cheesy smile eroded, and a look of panic filled his eyes, he began to run to the basement door. I am not quite sure what came over me. I suppose it was years of being ripped off my plumbers, mechanics, and washing machine repairman, I sort of flipped out. As his size twelve doctor martins were about to dart past me, I stuck out my modestly sized penny loafer. Dick Head tripped over it, and landed on the floor with an enormous crack.

"Oh my goodness Jack Albert Nory," my mother said matter-of-factly. "How about I go and put the kettle on for a nice cup of tea?"

I reminded her that we had to turn the water back on first.

It was then I caught site of the monstrous water heater the charlatan had installed.

"I wonder if it works mum?" I said as another twisted notion began to form in my mind.

"What dear?" she replied sweetly.

I looked at Dick, who was unconscious but was appeared to be still alive.

My mother giggled as if reading my mind.

It took a few minutes to hog tie him, and get the rope attached over the cellar's sturdy ancient beams.

Next I got the step ladder out, positioned it next to the heater climbed up and unfastened the top of it. It was surprisingly heavy, but finally it succumbed and I heaved it to the ground. The beast of a tank was a good five feet in diameter and ten feet deep.

With the lid off I looked first at Dick, and then at my mother.

"Right mom, I am going to need your help on this," I said as I began to hoist dick over the water heater. "Grab the end of the rope mum, and when I say so begin to pull."

My mom, still smiling broadly, grabbed the rope, and together we began to raise the fat bugger upwards.

"This is rather fun!" my mother replied. Takes me back to last summer when we disposed of that chap who offered to mow my lawn for five hundred quid. Those daffodils came up a treat after we buried his diced remains."

It was then that Dick opened his eyes. Having some experience in such matters I had used the glue gun to stick his lips shut. I almost dropped him I began to laugh so hard at the wild look in his eyes! Finally my mum and I managed to hoist him directly over the water heater, and slowly lowered him down. I managed to tie the rope up, which left him dangling halfway in the tank, with his head just over the lid, affording him a great view to what we were doing.

It was then we turned the water on. It took over an hour to fill the bugger up- but at least we had water now, so my mom and I enjoyed several chocolate biscuits and mugs of hot tea, as we watched Dick becoming increasingly aware of his impending plight.

Finally the tank was full.

I went over to the pilot light. At this point Dick had managed to rip the skin off his lips, and was hollering away through mouthfuls of blood at us. Still, there are many advantages to living in the middle of nowhere, and not having to worry about disturbing the neighbors is surely one of us. Boy did that man have a colorful tongue!

It took me four matches to get the pilot light lit, and I turned the heater onto to its highest setting. It wasn't going to get hot enough to actually boil him I realized, but still a jolly good poaching should be incredibly entertaining.

I went upstairs to the garage and pulled down a couple of deckchairs and an old transistor radio and set them up in the cellar. By now the water was just tepid.

I placed the two deckchairs around the water heater, and my mom sat ion one.

"Thanks dear! This is fun; there was nothing to watch on the telly tonight anyhow, so this is quite grand!"

I smiled at her as I turned on the radio.

Finally I managed to tune in to the local easy listening station, and as the sounds of Karen Carpenter singing "Top of the world," I plunked down in my deckchair.

I studied Dick; he had given up screaming, and was now desperately trying to fumble his way out of the knots. I knew that he never was. I was a great boy-scout in my day and could tie a knot that would have secured even Houdini in place.

Several hours must have gone by…and my mom and I must have dozed off. We awoke with a start to hear Dick hollering his head off, as Dean Martin sung its Amore was being played on the radio.

"Please, please, I beg you…" Dick was saying.

I climbed up and dipped my finger in the water, and had to remove it quickly.

"Almost there mother!" I said. My mother rubbed her hands together excitedly.

"Good I will just go and fix us another cup of tea, and be back to see what happens. You are such a good boy Jack, helping out your old mother like this!"

As she cheerfully scurried upstairs I peered into the tank. I could see that his hands were now starting to blister. His breathing was shorter and more frantic, and his eyes were beginning to turn a funny sort of purple and appeared to be bulging out of his head.

"I beg you, please…please…" he was repeating over and over again.

It was when my mother came back with the tea that he made one last strange gurgling noise, and went silent.

As we finished our cups of tea, we watched as his head changed in various degrees of purple.

"Thanks for the tea mother," I said as I eased up out of the deckchair. "I best be off- I will be back in the morning to pull Dick out and dispose of his van. By then he should be nicely poached through. Being as fat as he was I bet his liver is going to taste just like Fois Gras."

With that my mother kissed me sweetly on the cheek and I left.

Copyright © 2008 by P.S. Gifford