SERVICE CALL

                 Henry did plumbing in a lot of great houses, but this one was really something. The Ryder Estate. First class all the way. Chandeliers everywhere you looked.  How often do you see that?  Plus this was an easy-money job, because they said on the phone that only one toilet needed fixing. In time for some big party, no doubt. How hard could that be? He figured he could make it look more time-consuming than it was and stretch it out for longer than an hour, bombard the rich guy with all kinds of plumbing terms. What would he know?  Besides he could afford it. 

              When he was led into the house by a sexy young girl, he assumed she was one of the maids. He was disappointed that she wasn't wearing a uniform — one of his more frequent fantasies. But she, like most stuck-up women, showed no interest in him at all as she guided him to the main living room. 

            Henry tried not to show his awe at the size and elegant decor of this enormous room with its wall of floor to ceiling French doors facing a mammoth swimming pool with a fountain in the middle.  But his amazement quickly turned to envy and felt intense hatred for the owner of this mansion, who he assumed was the white-haired guy sitting on one of the many plush sofas, petting some stupid cat.

            

He wondered why a big shot like the owner would discuss a plumbing job with  a worker like Henry. Maybe this wasn't Ryder. Maybe this was some caretaker sitting down on the job. The man certainly wasn't dressed like a millionaire. And he didn't introduce himself. Henry pegged him as a servant. That made him hate him less. Still you never know. And whoever he was Henry wanted to win him over. 

             "What a beautiful kitty," Henry said, moving a little closer.

            As he did, the previously placid cat leapt to the arm of the sofa and hissed. Henry backed away, he not only hated cats, he was scared of them.  He wishing he could take a swat at this bad-tempered creature.

             " Ruby doesn't usually do that.  She's normally good with strangers," the customer said in a  manner that made Henry feel  that Mr. I'm-Better-Than-You  was rather pleased that the cat didn't take to him. "

            “Well maybe he's jus having a bad morning,,” Henry laughed,, still playing the polite game.

            “It’s a she,” the man said coldly.  “Her name is Ruby.”

            Henry was thinking, What difference does it make what sex a cat is.  But still wanting to ingratiate himself, he said instead, “How come?  ‘Cause of her color,” Henry asked looking at the reddish Angora cat , who was watching Henry's every movie, her green eyes almost slits. 

            “No,” the man said bluntly with a tone that suggested to Henry any discussion about the cat was over and that  he had better get on with his job.

            When the man got up to show Henry where the bathroom was,  Ruby moved back to the center of the sofa and curled up, but not without one last look his way. 

     

            

As the customer led Henry away from the living room, he made a note of all the items on the several occasional tables, always on the lookout for something he could lift that wouldn't be missed.  But everything was too large: lamps and vases and a few statues of cats. 

“The trouble is with this commode. It drips."  the customer said  leading Henry into a large bathroom off the main hallway.  

            At first Henry was impressed that it was so large and beautifully furnished with gleaming white floor tiles that reflected the French doors that led out to small patio. 

But seconds later he was disappointed that it wasn't the private bath of a bedroom where he might see something of value lying around. Rich people are always careless with jewelry and cash.  In a guest bath like this there was nothing expensive except cologne,

    Disgruntled Henry began unloading his tools as the man walked away with a total air of dismissal leaving Henry to deal with the leaky toilet or commode as Mr. Pretentious called it.

    Henry felt such jealousy and rage now that he wanted to take a wrench and smash this elegant  lavender pastel toilet which stood proudly side by side with a matching bidet. Who has a bidet, he thought angrily?  Only the rich or  Europeans. He felt even more envy as he looked at the thick towels, the plush rugs, the original oil paintings and the elegant multi-drawer cabinet that held the two lavender sinks. He was tempted to go through the drawers, but past experience had taught him to expect only soap and other toiletries. 

Before beginning work Henry took out his sharpest screwdriver and  deliberately scratched a deep scar in the costly tile behind the toilet where it wouldn't be seen till a maid cleaned there. She'd be horrified, of course, but wouldn't say anything for fear of being blamed. This scenario made him smile.

            Shortly after he finally did address the leak, he heard a voice behind him. “Would you like a beer?” the customer asked, without sounding the least bit cordial.

             “Sure,” Henry answered, surprised that the guy already had an open bottle with him. It wasn’t his brand, but some sissy foreign label,. Still it was cold and tasted good, even if it was a little too malty.

            “Thanks,” Henry said, wondering if the guy suspected he wasn’t really doing that much work. But he didn’t seem to; he just turned and walked away, leaving Henry to his pretend task. 

That’s when a cat came to the door.

             At first Henry didn’t notice her. But he suddenly had a sense of being watched. It was Ruby.  She sat in the doorway, her eyes no longer slits, but big bright green orbs, bright as lights. She almost looked like she was studying him. He was tempted to tell her to scram, but he didn’t want the client to hear him and besides he was feeling a little dizzy and  slightly nauseated. Why? Because it was too damned hot in that room. Didn't these people believe in air conditioning?

            

            Lucky he was working on a toilet, because within minutes he found himself vomiting into it.  No sooner did he pull the gold-plated flush handle than the whole room began to spin and he soon he fell backwards on to the gleaming white tile floor, and passed out.

 When Henry woke up a beautiful blonde woman was smiling at him. It wasn’t a loving smile, though, but kind of the smug smile you give to the fans of the losing team after a game. As he regained consciousness, he realized that he was bound hand and foot in a confined space that smelled of grease. 

             As his thoughts became clear, he realized the space was the back of his own plumbing van. And it was moving. 

             “He’s awake,” the woman said, directing her comments to the driver of the van.

            Henry moved his head to face the front of the van and could see the client was driving. From what Henry could see of his profile he had a determined look on his face.

             “Where are we?” Henry asked incongruously, not caring where he was, but why he was tied and with these people.

            “We’re in your van,” the client said, ””in the mountains.”

            “What are you going to do to me?” Henry asked.

             “Nothing that hasn’t been done before to others,” the man answered.  

“Many times before.” the woman said.

              “I don’t understand,” Henry said trying unsuccessfully not to sound frightened, or worse, pathetic. 

             “Look at him, Jane,” the man said, “He’s as helpless as a kitten.”

              Then to Henry, “Do you think of kittens as helpless, Henry?"

“I don’t understand what you want. Henry answered angrily, "I  don't know why I'm here. I never hurt you., Why are you doing this? It can't be for money. You have money. I don't."

            While still facing forward, the man said, "You didn't answer my question, Henry. Do you feel as helpless as a kitten?" 

Not wanting to offend this guy who he assumed was s crazy, he answer, "Yes.

Yes.  Helpless."

 “I remember when I first got Ruby." The man said smiling.  "She was helpless as a kitten. Even more so. Because she was scared and dirty and she had a broken leg. Do you know why  Henry?”

            With a feeling of dread, Henry gulpingly answered, “How would I know?"

            “Then let me tell you. It was because somebody threw her from a moving van on the highway along with four other kittens, who weren't as fortunate as Ruby. Can you imagine what kind of person does that, Henry?  I mean, that’s just vicious and sick.  My friend here lost her sister because somebody tossed a puppy on the interstate and her sister tried to avoid hitting it and ended up going off the road and into a canal where she drowned. And she was only 24." 

            "I'm sorry to hear that," Henry said to the woman, who was sitting next to him, her back against the side of the van. Perhaps she would show him some pity.

.          "Anyway, Henry, I'm glad I was driving by and could save that kitten. She’s the one you saw today, Henry…you know Ruby.”

            “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Henry lied.

             

“Yes, you do.  That’s why you’re here, Henry. You’ve driven on this road before. But not alone. At least not when you started out."

            “All right I  know why you’re doing this,” Henry started yelling. “I had to get rid of them. I couldn’t’ feed them. The shelter wouldn't take them. I didn’t want to drown them. It was the least painless way.”

            “If that were only true, Henry. But I’ve been keeping tabs on you. You do this for fun. Worse you do it for money, You advertise that you can place unwanted litters. Kind-hearted people call you. They tell you they have a litter of kittens that they can't take care of. You tell them you know of several out-of-town , no-kill shelters run by kind-hearted millionaires.  They pay you a fee, their anxieties put to rest . And you drive up here."

"I only did it once, I swear." Henry said pleadingly. "I was desperate for money,"

"First of all Henry, even once is despicable. But you've done it many times. And unless somebody puts a stop to you, I think lots of kittens and maybe people, like my friend's sister, will get hurt."

            “So turn me in! Take me to the cops. I’ll confess. I will.” 

             “Henry, don’t’ be silly. You know the authorities don’t give much attention to the rights of animals.  They’ll slap your hand, maybe even  hit you with a meaningless  fine. Then you’re free to do it again. No, this is better for everybody concerned — everybody that is, but you.”

            As the man was talking, the van began to go faster. 

            “You’re going to crash into somebody.”

            

"No, Henry, you’ve been asleep for a long time. It’s about 3 am. Almost no traffic. One could go safely about eighty miles an hour, except around the turns. Jane why don’t you open that door?” 

             “No. Don’t do this. I promise you I’ll never do it again. Ever. I’ll see a doctor.”

              Since this seemed to have no effect, he added, "What about my family?"

            The man chortled at this, "You don't have a family, Henry. You live in a crappy apartment on the East Side. Your wife and daughter left years ago after so much abuse."

            Henry could hear the handle of the van's right side door  being pulled down, then the sound of the door  sliding open. He felt the cold night air rushing in and chilling the sweat of his fear.

             Then the van pulled over and stopped.

             Henry’s heart stopped beating as rapidly.  It was all a joke. A way to scare him. He should have known respectable people couldn’t do something like that. He must have confessed  to someone about those useless kittens  and they told someone else, and that all led to this, this, sick joke to teach him a lesson. 

            “The woman crawled towards the front of the van. As she did the door opened in the man got out He could see that she was now in the driver's seat. But where was he?  

Moments later, the man was standing beside the van looking at Henry lying on the floor.

"Move over, Henry. I need some room, " he said, pushing Henry aside as he 

climbed into the van.  Henry frantically tried to decide whether his voice was humorous or cold. Why did they switch places?

            Now the van began to move again and pick up speed. 

            The van moved faster and faster. Tools became to shift from side to side, nuts and bolts begin to fall out of their carefully arranged compartments, the side door kept sliding back and forth until the man put Henry's  heavy tool box against it to keep it open 

            Henry was facing the open door.  He could see the dark mountains against the sky, the silver guard rail sections moving faster and faster until they seemed to form a single silver line. His fear was beyond anything he had ever known. He wanted to live. It wasn’t fair. He was still young. Besides what had he done? Merely tossed out kittens, useless unwanted kittens that nobody wanted.  Who cared what happened to them? They weren’t people. They were dumb animals. He was a person, not a stupid kitten.

             Henry was ready to beg, to plead, to promise anything. He wanted to live. He wanted to live. What creature doesn’t want to live?

             Suddenly the man said, "Now” and the van swerved closer to the edge of the highway, The last thing Henry knew was intense, unreasoning,  animal fear as he felt himself being pushed from the speeding van, away from  the highway, over the guard rail , beyond the gravel and toward the sudden drop into the deep ravine of sheer rock that was just beyond the sign that read “Ruby Canyon”.

                                                                        END