Hot Wired
On the eve of the summer solstice, June 20
th
Barbara Miller placed the call to Jerry Howard's phone, anxious as the fourth ring sounded at her ear.
"Hello," she heard.
"Jerry, its Barb."
"Oh. How are you?" he asked.
Barbara noted the surprise in her brother's greeting. There had been a falling-out on the Sunday before Memorial Day. An inappropriate gesture had been made. While Barbara meant to stir her brother's memory and his libido as to what she had offered so many times in the past, the gesture disturbed her brother given the number of people at the gathering. Though none of the guests present were privy to 'why' Jerry and Gayle Howard departed in such a rush, Barbara's misadventure put a damper on the festivities. His sister's actions were so perverse; Jerry kept the actual reason for their sudden departure from his wife during their ride home.
In the privacy of his film room he reveled in the desire Barbara brought to the surface. Twenty-six pictures of his sister in varying stages of undress hung from the drying rack by the time Gayle called out, "Bedtime, Jerry."
He filed away the negatives before making his way up the stairs.
Three days passed before Jerry heard from his sister. Each of the three evening found Jerry back in the basement film room reliving one or more of the erotic adventures he shared with his sister.
"I have a problem," Barbara said at his ear. "The sump pump has been running for about thirty minutes, and there's no water in the hole. I was wondering if you might come over and check it."
There was a hesitation at her ear before Jerry responded.
"Gayle's out and I'm not sure if she took her key. Mom drove. So here's what you do. Go into the laundry room and trip the breaker. It's numbered 'seven' on the panel."
"Okay. Then...?"
"Keep it off for ten minutes and flip the breaker to
on
. That should do it."
"Thanks. I'll call either way."
Barbara Miller did as she was told. Twenty minutes later, she reported her findings to her brother.
"Jerry," she said into the mouth piece, "it's still running. I'm afraid to keep the pump off, with all the rain..."
"I'll be there in about an hour, Barb. It depends on the weather. Put on the coffee. De-cafe," he stressed.
From the candle-lit great room, she looked out onto the stormy night attentive for her brother's approach. At ten minutes to ten the headlights of Jerry Howard's Impala flashed across the Miller's front lawn and brightened Barbara's mood. Jerry arrived at Greenhurst somewhat confused.
"Thanks, Jerry," Barbara said from the landing at the side door.
"Welcome," was Jerry's only response. He took the steps to the laundry room on the lower level without looking her way
Barbara sensed his misgivings and turned away from the side door without a solution.
For ten minutes, Jerry tinkered with the pump. He switched the breaker to 'on', and smiled at his handy work.
"I'll have that coffee, now," he said as he stepped up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Barbara was leaning against the counter scooping de-cafe into the filter basket.