Open Writing

"Is my car ready?" asked the pleasant voice on the telephone.

"Well," said the owner of the auto repair firm in California "you have a bigger problem that we realised. Can you call in?"

The voice changed down from sanguine to disappointed, and said, "Yeah. I’ll be there in an hour."

One hour later the crestfallen voice – now embodied – stood in the waiting area as the reapirman set about disappointing him further.

"It’s the rats," he intoned, spreading his hands palms upward in a gesture of futility.

"The rats?" asked the customer adding incomprehension to disappointed and crestfallen.

Yessir! Rats. Come and see."

Mr Customer went into the repair area where his vehicle waited with every door and lid opened wide. The boot was home to a dead rat. The view spoke louder than words, and thrice that number in cash was lurking not far away.

"But … " began the customer, breaking off as the repairman lifted the rodent by its tail and seemed to be offering it to the flabbergasted customer, who then changed directions and blurted out, "No! No! I don’t … ".

"It’s a shocker, isn’t it?" said mild spoken repairman. "You wouldn’t expect … "

But it was his turn to be interrupted and he didn’t act surprised when he was.

"How on earth did that get there and what has it done?"

The repairman was ready for his questions. It was not the first time he had dealt with this situation. "Oh, rats are very clever. They can get into any place they want to, especially if the know they can find food, and they are very destructive."

"But," remonstrated the customer, "There are no rats where we live. We have never seen any and never found anything that would make me think there were any on our neighbourhood."

"Do you have children?"

"Yes, we have two toddlers."

"Do they eat in your car?"

"No! Well, er, yes! But no more than a candy bar, or a few crisps, maybe a sandwich, but nothing ... "

"Ah," said the repairman, knowingly, his head nodding politely, "I’m afraid that’s all it takes."

This inquisitorial conversation was rated ‘Trite Level I,’ but having served its purpose was abandoned, and the interview moved on to Shock Treatment: Level 1: Visual.’

Level 1 was preparatory, and set the stage for the Grand Finale known as ‘Shock Treatment: Level II: Financial.’

**

Meanwhile, across the city, a laboratory supplies company, was taking a telephone order for ‘Another half dozen brown rats, please. I’ll collect them tomorrow.’

"Okay, I’ll make sure they are ready for you."

"Thank you. ‘Bye."

**

Back at the auto repair shop, the shock treatment was working. Came the question "What’s that lot going to cost?" opened the door to the execution of ‘Schema Rodentia Rattus Norvegicus.’

The repairman was ready: in fact he lived for this. A sharp intake of breath through pursed lips, a slight shake of the head indicating profound sympathy, were followed by a well-practised litany.

"Well, sir, the whole wiring loom is virtually destroyed; two of your rear brake lines are close to being chewed through, and then there’s your transmission … "

And then there was a long pause that lay heavy in the air.

"Transmission?" said the customer, coming out of a trance-like state, "Transmission?" He said it as if he had never heard the word before. "Transmission?"

"Ah, yes. The transmission is compromised."

The transmission damage was discussed and that was followed by a list of other problems. Some were major, some were minor, but if ignored could lead to more serious problems, including, urged the patient garage owner, fatal consequences for the customer, his wife, and his car-snacking children.

Although incredulous and shaken to the core, the customer agreed that the repairs must be done as quickly as possible.

"It’ll take a couple of days to do all the work, but then your car will be like new."

"Like new? It is new! I’ve had it seven months and never had a problem. It should be like new!"

"If you’ll step into the office we’ll take care of the paperwork and we’ll get on to your insurance company right away to authorise immediate repair. We keep a few loaner vehicles so you will not be without wheels in the next few days."

The customer stepped in, signed up, took delivery of a set of alien keys, and drove the loan car home to his surprised wife.

Three days later he was called by the garage to collect his fully repaired and out of danger automobile. Besides the repairs his car had been washed, waxed, and valeted inside and out. It looked and smelled better than it had when he took delivery of it a few months earlier.

He was pleased that his car drove, handled, and performed just like it had before it had $12,000 worth of essential repairs. Telling the story to a colleague he explained, "It was impossible to tell that it had been repaired at all. It was just like my car!"

What he didn’t know was that it was his car. Not his repaired car, but his car exactly as it was when he took it in for a minor adjustment.

His insurance company had agreed to twelve thousand dollars in repairs that were not necessary and would not be carried out. The secret was in the small furry rodents the firm bought, poisoned, and secreted in customers’ cars to make their case that the rat had done much mischief, necessitating costly repairs.

At the repair garage the shutters are up, the door is locked, the telephone goes unanswered.

The repairman is in prison having netted a million dollars from fraudulent claims.

There are rats, and then there are rats!

Copyright © 2010 Ronnie Bray

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