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Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Bill

January 7, 2014 Leave a comment Go to comments

By Ric Royer
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File Photo

It came in the mail on a Saturday.  I forgot about it and went to the jungle gym.

On Monday, I found it again.  I had fallen behind a chair while eating some cereal and there it was, lodged between the molding and a basket of magazines.  I opened it out of pure curiosity.  It was a bill for $72.  I shoved it into the basket and, in the act of doing this, it became torn and crumpled.  On Wednesday, I removed the entire basket of magazines and placed them on the porch of a neighbor four doors down.

Several weeks later, I received a phone call while test-driving a golf cart over some hills.  The man on the line claimed that I owed him $4,652.

“For what?” I asked.  I parked the golf cart in the woods and left it there.  I had decided that it was not for me.

He began reading off a series of vendors.  There was the model train company, a bookstore, the decorative ham place, several motel rooms.  I remembered only about half the purchases.

There was a long pause.  “I hate you,” I said.  I was just stalling for time.

“The minimum payment is $4,652,” the man said again.  “Are you prepared to make your payment today?”  He tried to sound cheerful.  I suddenly remembered one of the motels.  It was a blonde in a green suit.  There had been some sexually-charged shoving against some columns.

“Is there a charge for a museum on there?” I asked.

I could hear the tapping of computer keys.  “Yes, that’s on the 11th, that was the Lankville…”

“No, don’t tell me,” I interrupted.  “Let’s succumb to the mystery.”  He said nothing in response.  There was nothing but the background cacophony of other voices demanding payment on other accounts.

“I don’t understand you,” I said.  And I hung up.

I pushed the phone between two empty accordian folders that I found in a field.  They were still factory-sealed.

Then I got in the van and drove.

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