Bennett and Dorothy

Another excerpt from my forthcoming book, We Found the Vacuum Cleaner.

I like Bennett. He’s okay. But I believe he married the wrong woman. They have a permanent For Sale sign out in front of their property—800 poorly-located acres that produce the most awful looking crops in the state. Nobody has been by to see their place for years and years.

If henpecking and nagging could sow and reap, Bennett’s wife could run that farm single-handed. I have a feeling that she is the reason that real estate people don’t go out there anymore. Her name is Dorothy.

Dorothy works at the Grainfield Groc-a-Teria for piddling wages. Every time she comes home from work, she lets Bennett know just how much she hates working. “…and then you expect me to fix dinner and keep on cleaning the house and everything!”

“Come on, now, Dottie, Don’t start…” he always pleads.

Bennett quietly works his farm, and then drives an 18-wheeler whenever he has a few days to spare. He probably earns as much money driving that rig as he does farming. I happen to know they have an unusually high mortgage. They are in debt and under constant stress. The fact that Dorothy is unable to bear children is a severe disappointment for both of them. I think that adds to their stress, too.

On the plus side, the two of them are still together after several years of cussing and fussing. Some of us around Pancake Flats have occasion to help Bennett on one project or another. The two of them seem pleasant enough when we’re around, but sometimes Dorothy’s temper gets the best of her.

Like the time a couple of us were over there doing some plumbing repair work for her. Bennet was off driving that 18-wheeler. An old copper pipe split right down the middle one day and flooded their cellar pretty quick. Old Man Taylor and I went over to work it out. Turned out that one thing led to another. We had us a two-day project for sure.

Bennett got back home just about the time that Taylor and I finished up. He came home to quite a muddy mess of pumped water. Ruined odds and ends were piled in the yard. Without a word he leapt out of his pickup, dashed up the front steps into the house. He whipped right past the three of us—Dorothy, Taylor and me—and flung himself into his easy chair. "I need a beer before it gets started," he hollered. He aimed his remote at the TV and clicked till he found the channel he wanted.

“Hey, Dottie. Bring me a beer before it starts. Quick!” As an afterthought he added, “And give one to our friends here, too. It’s gonna start any minute.”

Dorothy served up the beer. Bennett downed his in no time flat—too fast, if you ask me. “Hey, Dottie, bring me another beer. It’s almost time for it to start. You boys want another before it starts?”

I’d hardly begun mine. I watched Bennett tip that second can up and empty the whole thing. Taylor was speechless about it.

Bennett looked at his watch, eyed the TV, checked his watch again and yelled, “Dottie, bring me another one. I think I got time for another before it starts.”

Again he gulped it down without blinking. “One more, Dottie! I want one more before it starts!”

Dorothy let loose. “Wait. Just. A. Minute!” she roared. “Just who do you think you are? You been gone half the week and you don’t even speak to me when you come in the door! It’s just you and that TV, isn’t it? I been running this God-forsaken place all week without a phone call or nothing from you. Only calls I get is from your dad-burned bill collectors! I got a half-assed job. How'm I gonna pay them bills? I got a cellar full of water. Now how'm I supposed to go to work with that taking up all my time? I got to beg from the neighbors…there’s two of ‘em right here in your living room that you ain’t even spoke to yet.”

I was embarrassed. Taylor was, too.

“Then you come waltzing in here acting like you're king of the whole world or something and flop your lazy butt in that chair screaming at me to wait on you hand and foot. You can forget that! That ain't gonna happen! If you want something, you get your beer-gut up and go get it yourself! If you want to eat tonight, you can fix your own dinner while you're in there! And if you're thinking you want anything else tonight, you can forget that, too, Buster!”

Bennett looked at us and said, “It’s started."