thirty years and had been laid off nearly five years earlier. That was when he went into the bug and rodent removal service and learned the trade very well.
He had been called to a house that a real estate company had bought at an auction and wanted to fix up and rent it out. However, there was an unusual infestation in the house and a number of other companies had tried everything that they knew to eradicate the pest but were not successful. Truman told them not to worry that he had ever lost a case and within twenty-four hours the house would be clean and in rentable condition.
This is how Truman Terry related this tale to me: Mr. Sooner it was the strangest thing that I had ever seen, they were perfect, absolutely perfect, not out of kilter one bit; circles made of raisins, both white, and purple ones. I knocked one off the wall and it reappeared exactly where it had been, very strange fruit indeed. I wiped a whole circle away and the same results happened again, who or what was responsible? The dictionary of strange and unusual pests on the table was of no use to him for there was not a listing in this book that described what he was seeing.
There on the wall before me were about two dozen circles of various sizes, ranging from three inches in diameter to twenty-four inches in diameter. I went to the truck and brought in my whole arsenal of repellents and sprayed the circles on the wall and the only thing I got was wet raisins. I scraped them off the wall and they kept coming back. The more that I removed those raisins from the wall the more that came back and now the whole wall is covered with them. The worst part of the problem is that, I went back yesterday just to make sure that the pests were still there, and they are; only now they have moved to another room and are continuing to spread throughout the entire house. What if they fill the house? Then will they move on down the block? Is anyone in this town safe from this growing menace? I reported it to the police and they told me that this was an FDA problem; I called the FDA and they hung up on me.
This story was so intriguing to me that I decided to go and check out the property for myself so I called Mr. Terry and asked him to meet me at my office and from there we would go to this house and see what was going on. The town of Bean Hills was nearly two hours from where my office was and Truman and I talked about the whole strange occurrence in great detail. He wondered if some of the chemicals had caused the strange multiplication of raisins on the wall. They were safe for animal consumption and even human, but to rodents and insects they generally resulted in death. I noticed that on the way to Bean Hills there were a great number of vineyards on each side of the roadway and asked Truman about those. He said that he had not really paid attention on his way there, but that they should be coming to the town shortly as the sign on the right said BEAN HILLS 3 MILES. We went for at least five miles and saw no sign of the town only miles and miles of grapes. I turned around and went back in the direction that we had come; my thinking was that there might have been a turn somewhere that we missed.
I brought the wheels of my Dodge truck to a screeching halt and pointed to a sign on the right hand side of the road, THANK YOU FOR VISITING BEAN HILLS, COME AGAIN SOON
We decided to drive into the next town and see if someone there had any idea of what had happened to the town of Bean Hills. According to the map it should have been right where my truck stopped, only there was no town, no house and no people.
Whispering Rock was the next town on the map and it was about ten miles to the North of Bean Hills. We came to a service station on CR 675 and stopped to see if there was anyone there that we could speak with. We found no one there, but there was a working phone so I called ahead to Whispering Rock and asked to speak to the sheriff. “He’s out checking out some kind of distress call south of 675 and Willow Barn Rd.” “Well, at least we know that there is someone in Whispering Rock, let’s keep going.” I filled up the truck and we found some sodas and snacks for the trip and then put the money on the counter and headed for Whispering Rock.
Just past the sign we saw the road sign for Willow Barn road so I turned down the road and headed out looking for the sheriff. I figured that he might just have some clue as to what was going on here. We went about three miles down the road without seeing anything, anything that is except for more vineyards. “There off to the right, isn’t that a sheriffs’ car Karl?” “Yes it is, or should I say was.” As quickly as Truman had spotted the car it was surrounded by grape vines and quickly disappeared. I hit the brakes and spun that Dodge around in its tracks. My right foot slammed the accelerator pedal to the floor and demanded all of the power that the Hemi under the hood could produce. Like an obedient child the eight cylinders roared to life and we sped back down Willow Barn road to CR 675 and then northward to the town of Whispering Rock.
Something very odd was going on here and I didn’t want to tell Truman about it but when we made the turn north toward Whispering Rock the part of 675 that went south was no longer there; it had been filled in with grape vines. I turned on the radio to see if there might be a news report telling what was going on; there was nothing to be heard but static. I wished that I had bought a cell phone, but I always told my kids that I didn’t need one. If they needed to get a hold of me they could leave me a message on the machine and I would call them when I got home. Home seemed like a very far distance now, one that may get farther and very quickly.
Miles and miles of road lay before us and with each mile we encountered the same thing, signs welcoming us to town and thanking us for visiting only we had not seen a town for many hours, and in the rearview mirror we could see the roadway being covered up by miles and miles of grape vines.
LOW FUEL, LOW FUEL, LOW FUEL and then the Hemi died.
Circumstances
He hoped that the food here was great. Jack Fly had been sent on a mission by his lovely wife, to find a new exciting place to eat and if he didn’t want to hear her sarcastic words Jack knew that he had better succeed.
The waiter eased down from his web over to the table as soon as Jack sat down. “Quick service, the wife will like that.” Jack thought. Soup and salad was the special for the day, so Jack ordered that.
“Waiter, what is this human doing in my soup?” “I believe it is the backstroke, sir.” “Take it back.” “Sir, that is one of the special toppings prepared for this type of soup, no extra cost.” “Free, well then you can leave it and I will enjoy it as well.”
The flight home from the restaurant was quiet and peaceful, although jack did have a bit of indigestion from the soup. Humans always did that to him, they had good flavor and he liked them but they didn’t like him. He should have taken his mediation before he ate, next time he would remember.
“Darling, you look wonderful,” said Jack to his wife. Melody Fly had been married to Jack since they were old enough to wed and it had been an uphill struggle for them; they should have waited and not had children so soon. For years Jack went through this thing where he thought he was a failure and was constantly depressed. He refused to work and just wanted to lie around and do nothing all day. Melody finally put her foot down and demanded that he either went to work or she was going home to mother and taking the kids with her.
It wasn’t long after that ultimatum was put forth that Jack found himself and began working in an escort service, showing younger flies the way to and from their homes to all of the interesting sites in the community. Soon after that there was a big scandal in the company and it was shut down; Jack immediately took the initiative and scooped up all of the clients and began his own service. Shoo Fly LLC was the name that he gave it and the business was an instant hit. Now they were rolling in dough and Jack felt like he was somebody again.
“Get dressed dear, I have found a wonderful place for us to dine,” Jack called to his wife. “Stay out of those cookies, they’re for the kids party at school,” came the reply from the bedroom. Melody Fly appeared in the front room of their modest fourteen room home and she had a puzzled look on her face. Jack knew the look and
searched his brain for the answer that would be needed to keep him out of trouble. “Honey, do these new wings make me look fat?” “You will love this new place, the decorations are absolutely amazing, and they even put humans in the soup at no extra cost.” There were two things that would always put a smile on Melody Fly’s face; the idea of human topping on her soup and the words, no extra cost. It was those two things that pulled Jacks bacon out of the fire that night.
Melody and Jack had a quiet flight to the restaurant that night. They hardly spoke to each other while in route and that was normal because they both had to concentrate very intently on their flying. Each one of them had “lead wings” and could not afford another ticket this year; and so the agreement was that they would not speak while flying unless absolutely necessary. The more they spoke while flying the faster they flew and before either one knew it one of them would be pulled over for speeding.
When they got to their destination, the gloves came off and it was every fly for themselves. Jack knew that Melody could out talk him and so he would often begin the moment their feet landed. This time however, Melody spoke first and