Word Count: 30,044
Summary of Events:
In accordance with a change of plans, Walker and two of his coworkers prepared all the existing window openings and created a few new ones in the house so the windows could be installed that afternoon; as they waited for the windows to arrive they had lunch, during which Walker's oldest coworker got a phone call. After lunch Walker and his other coworker went to see if the windows had arrived and when they did Walker went to get his older coworker, who was still on his cellphone and quite agitated . . .
Excerpt of the Day:
“Mom!” a startled cry sounded from a nearby yard. “What are you doing!?”
Walker startled when he saw a gate open in the back fence and a little white haired old woman storm through; a woman who looked on the older side of middle aged hurried after the older woman, who was making straight for Jay.
“You boys are no better than your father with all this swearing!” the older woman shouted, prompting Jay to stop and look at her in consternation. “For decades I haven’t been able to know a peaceful afternoon outside without it being broken by your profanity!”
“I-I’m terribly sorry ma’am, it’s just–”
“No excuses!” the woman interjected. “I am through with this!”
“Mom!” the other woman cried.
The old woman seized Jay by the throat and slapped him across the face three times, then she turned and looked at Walker.
“You’d better not get any ideas boy!” she snapped.
“No ma’am,” Walker replied quickly.
“Mom, please,” the other woman pleaded, managing to get the old woman to release a flabbergasted Jay. “I’m sorry, she’s in the early stages of dementia, I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“How long has she lived there?” Walker asked, pointing toward where they’d come from.
“She and Dad bought the house as newlyweds,” the other woman replied, looking a little puzzled.
Walker advanced. “Ma’am who are you thinking he is?”
“I’m not thinking he’s anyone,” the old woman snapped. “He’s Maurice Schissler.”
“No I’m not!” Jay exclaimed.
“Go check if the windows are right,” Walker replied, shooing at Jay, who looked a little offended. “Um, ma’am, this house doesn’t belong to the Schisslers any more, but, may I ask what you mean about your peaceful afternoons being broken up by swearing? Was it common?”
“As if you wouldn’t know,” the old woman spat.
“I don’t know,” Walker replied.
“Your grandfather is one of the most foul-mouthed people I’ve ever heard of!” the old woman snapped. “That Anglican church should’ve expelled him for all the swearing he did! No self-respecting Christian would ever spew that much vile language, and especially at his wife!”
“He’d swear at my grandma?” Walker asked, deciding to go along with the woman.
“Yes!” the woman replied. “If my husband would’ve done that I would’ve slapped him, and if he would’ve kept it up like that I would’ve left him. She was a whipping-girl to him, and their children were no better treated, it’s no wonder his family fell apart like it did!”
Walker stared silently, barely hearing the woman’s daughter apologise again before guiding her mother back to the yard across the fence and facing an adjoining street. Was it just the woman’s dementia? Or was it true? Had Mrs. Schissler and the Schissler children been verbally abused by Mr. Schissler? Walker didn’t know now, but he was pretty sure the papers in his garage he’d yet to look at bore the answer.
No comments:
Post a Comment