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A Ripping Good Tale

It was a visit from our mom that brought about one of those defining moments of my very young life. My older sister, Coral, and I were living with Grandma Anderson and our mysterious step-grandpa. He was an Engineer on the Milwaukee Road Line, out of Minneapolis. He worked nights and slept days so our playtime had to be very quiet.

Grandma Anderson was a housewife, excelling at the role, except, for the most part, she was a terrible cook. She had a blackberry cobbler that was fabulous, but it was her only saving grace and redeeming quality!

Mom and Dad were separated, yet once again. Mom had a small apartment to herself. She was working days, going to nursing school nights.

Dad was getting rolling with his Sodding and Landscaping company. He was doing well enough that he owned his own equipment: flatbed truck, sod cutters, two pick-up trucks (one for tools and one for his workmen), tools for cutting and trimming sod, and a mixer for hot tar for black topping driveways. He was working all the daylight hours of the week except Sundays, which was when he did his paperwork and billing.

On Sundays, he would get up early so he could come and get Coral and me, after he finished his work, to take us out for a meal, movie, or, for a big surprise and treat, horseback riding, which we loved! (Oops! I've been caught wool-gathering again...)

Sitting on the floor in Grandma Anderson’s living room, playing with a soft toy dog outside the kitchen door, I overheard Mother telling Grandma Anderson the latest of her news. (I was hoping to hear that the separation was over and we were going back to live with her and Dad again.)
Instead, Mom said that Dad had done some work for a well-to-do family, putting in a new driveway and completely sodding the lawn. Dad sent him an invoice for the work done. When it became overdue, Dad sent a reminder. That, too, was ignored.

Finally, Dad called to enquire about payment. The man was a jerk. He basically told Dad to go to hell...taunting him with shots, verbal taunts about possession being 9/10ths of the law, and telling him that there was nothing Dad could do about it now.

Dad hung up the phone and sat at the kitchen table, nursing a vodka martini (with an olive) thinking and brooding. In the middle of the night, he grabbed his hat and left the house. Right after making another phone call to his foreman.

Come morning, there was lots of activity! (She heard the story from Dad.) The pissed-off customer was having a fit over the phone about the condition of his lawn and driveway. "Someone" had ripped up the new driveway and sod during the night, leaving a big eyesore mess. Dad told him to come down to his office to discuss it and hung up. The Guy never showed.

We heard The Guy tried to hire the three other landscaping companies in the area to repair the damage; all in turn rejected the job. They all told him that nobody in the five-state area would touch it. He would need to take it up with "Wright Sodding and Landscaping" or else live with it!

He finally did come back. My Dad made him pay in advance for both the first and second jobs. The Guy had to live with it all that season and into the next Spring because my Dad was "Booked". Dad thought it would be something The Guy could reflect upon, especially over the Winter months, surveying his rendered lot.

Hearing this and the note of pride in my mother's voice, made me happy and really proud of Dad! At that age, what I did not realize was other tradespeople would not work for the Guy unless it was paid for in cash prior to any work starting. Word of his attempt to cheat my dad seemed to spread throughout the community like a wildfire! Talk about karma!

Style / type: 
Free verse
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I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
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Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

what I would call poetry, it is a great tale of back when communities stuck together, and moral obligations meant something.
Common sense was the mainstay of everyday life and people could be trusted to watch each other's backs. Now days, there would be quite a few other companies who would get stuck with non-payment, because they don't listen to each other, choosing to go after the profit. ~ Nice story, ~ Geez.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

yeah... I just let my mind wander to see what I would come up with. this was the end result. I guess there is no place for stories on Neo. I really miss those days. *sigh...

thanks and hugs, Cat

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author comment

with Geezer on this. I loved it, brought back memories of my old dad getting his own back. I may even do something similar about the time he tricked a chap into buying some geese from him.
Alex

I would love to read it if you do write it. thank you.

*hugs, Cat

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When someone reads your work
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