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The Life And Times Of T'terman: The Paper Route - Part 2

                                          

Part 2
"The Paper Route"
"Knott Branch Lane and Beyond"

From "The Life And Times Of T'terman"
By
Otrie Barrett Jr

For the most part the houses on my route were all within the scope of my neighborhood, each house similar to the next and so on, but there was this portion on Knott Branch Lane in "The Forest Of Hilton" that was unusual. It was so unusual to me in every way that I named each house personally. This section didn't just have design variants like where I lived, but every house was different, unique, and the people seemed a bit eccentric too.

The first house on Knott Branch Lane, I named "The Nice Lady's House", well because the lady that lived there was so very nice. No matter what time I delivered papers she was already up tooling around. Frequently she would offer me hot chocolate and a break from the elements when I was delivering on cold or snowy mornings; and yes there were many face biting, extremity numbing freezing cold mornings in Virginia.

"The Underwear Man's House" next door was named so because one morning the  owner of the house startled me standing at his front door wrapped only in his jocks. Aghast, I uttered something sounding like "blaheh", and he retorted sharply, "you're late!" He was right! 6 am delivery for the weekday paper is late when most people leave their homes for work by then.

"The House That Cujo Owned", was named for this huge Saint Bernard dog that excelled in terrorizing me. I'd think ahhhh, this morning that drooling menace is inside, but he'd appear suddenly, stealth-like as a mountain of fur could be, waiting at the exit gate, the edge of his domain. It's as if he were saying to me, "I...let like you in foreigner, now...let's see what you got...paper boy". The owner insisted that their paper be placed on the front porch, and comply I tried. They claimed that their huge slobbering dog was harmless and would not bite me, but as you will see later through my experience, I had a precedence for throwing the paper anywhere I could.

"The Bird House" was named for this damp ivy laden house with terracotta roofing. Pigeons covered every inch of this house occupying individual sections of the roofing. The house smelled vile with bird droppings and urine, causing me to wretch each time. It was right out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, and kept me wondering why the birds only liked to stay at there. All the other houses never had birds by the flock. One morning I was having a great serving experience. What I mean by serving is the manner in which I would take a paper out of my bag and deliver it to the front porch. Everything just seemed to be perfect this morning, as if I was a major league pitcher having the greatest game of my life. This fine morning being in the zone, and forgetting all about those nasty birds, I served a up paper that landed on their front porch with resounding force, pop and placement.  All of a sudden birds were exploding, shrieking and squawking from every direction, like my paper was a forceful reminder to them that winter was coming one day, and they better get prepared. Truthfully, those nasty pigeons scared the "tihs" out of me, but caused me to burst my seams in laughter moments later. I'm sure all of Knott Branch Lane heard that outstanding volley of sound, flight and laughter.

"The Hippy House" was named for this couple, a man who was and architect and his wife the fertile artist. They both had long fluffy red hair, freckles, and were very cool indeed, whenever they decided to answer their door. These soul mates were the kind of people you could hang with for hours and talk about any old thing, just any old thing at all. The house had a novel triangular shaped courtyard in the center, where the couple sipped tea and caught some rays. It was the most unusual of all the houses on Knott Branch Lane, consisting of angled doors, wild colors, and those two very groovy hippies.

"The Witch House" was named for a very dark gray house that had a frizzy gray haired woman inside that fit the description of the stereotypical witch. To collect money from her I had knock forever on the door, then just as I retreated from the door, she or her equally gray haired daughter would mysteriously answer with a look that told me I disturbed the head shrinking session. The Witch House was the kind of house that was shrouded in darkness even on a bright summer day because of the numerous thick crab apple trees on the property. Those fallen rotting crab apples made the yard smell heady like fermenting wine, as if they were a potion waiting to do the houses occupants extra bidding.


"The Rich Man's House", belonged to a dentist who I could never collect money from. He had nice cars, guest houses, tennis courts and pools, but not $4.75 on time every month. So, I tortured him by stealing his decorative and expensive tire air caps, and then returning them ever so often. It was a very silly thing to do, but sometimes I would even change his BMW caps for his Mercedes air caps. I was a bad boy sometimes!


"The Troll House" was a Hobbit sort of cottage, the last house on my route before I went home. It always seemed to have mist around it, ivy and succulents everywhere, and was constructed of stone and mortar; easily the oldest house around. I don't remember ever seeing the people who lived there but once. Sometime Mr Johnson would have to collect the difficult accounts. I mentioned the house had succulents, plants like aloevera, cactus and the like. I pinched off a strand of this one plant, took it to my house and it started growing like crazy. When our family we moved to Springfield, Virginia, I pinched off a small portion again and took it to our new house, where it grew just as well, then again to college. I even think my older sister Ingrid took some strands to California. The plant was virtually indestructible, like that alien plant in "The Little Shop Of Horrors".

"The Magnolia House" was name simply for the huge magnolia tree in the front yard. The house was all brick, painted white with black shutters, a classic. It had a low stone fence around the whole property. I used to pluck some of the magnolia blossoms and rub them on my skin for a lemony refresher. The Magnolia tree was great near the end of my route. When the sun began to rise in summertime it's wonderful fragrance sweetened all of Knott Branch Lane.

"The Red Man's House" was named for the owner of the house whose skin was always red as if he'd just been boiling with lobsters. The only time I was able to collect from this man was after his crazy dog bit me on both of my legs. My dad insisted that we get a veterinary report on the dog. After I collected almost six months due me,  three weeks later the man died. He wasn't that old. Maybe he was red all the time because he drank a lot. I don't know.

"The Great Dane House" belonged to an elusive man from South America. Trying to collect from him was terrifying, because you knew when he opened the door that monster dog was going to be there, and he just let that big Dane maul you.  Once waiting in this foyer, the dog came uncomfortably close to me, stepped on my foot, and wouldn't budge. You know that dog actually bruised my foot. It hurt for along time, but how could I say, ""hey man, your horse bruised my foot"

"The Beautiful Family's House" had five children, three daughters and two sons who were just beautiful. None of the kids were stuck up or pretentious, and the parents were just as humble. Everyone wanted to know them, after all they were beautiful. I remember breaking their front window twice with a news paper, and each time they were just as cool as jello. I learned how to replace widows working on that house. It didn't hurt to hear there beautiful daughters praising my handiwork.  Now who's pretentious?

"The House Of The Greek Goddess", Diona Amarantos was easily the most voluptuous, beautiful and mature looking girl in school, and she and her family just adored me. She was one of the top violinist in our state. To see her walk was a vision of gracefulness. Her mouth uttered only the positive, and her two foot long hair was a flawless wonder she took great pride in caring for. The house Amarantos had a low roof that I kept hurling papers on top of. Diona's mother insisted I kept throwing them up there as an excuse to spend time with them. Well, it was always nice visiting them, and the ten minute exercise always turned into an hour of laughter and fun, with milk and cookies, even spanakopita.

Blessing Boy©2007
 


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