When I was about ten or so Dad decided to do a bit of remodeling. Truth is Dad was constantly remodeling the house so it wasn't a surprise or anything. Somewhere in his travels he met a man that owned some property. Sadly the details of this story are lost to time but still the main portion remains with me. Now, wherever this property was it had a brick lined well. Those red brick were just stacked in that well without any mortar holding them together. Amazing how the old folks did things like that. Those bricks were just arranged in a circle and the dirt pressing against them held them together. Above ground they were mortared in place. This man told Dad he could have those bricks for the taking as he had to fill in that well. So, it being my father, he decided to build a fireplace with them.
Every day after work he would go to that place and gather bricks. The well wasn't all that deep and could be reached with a ladder. Down the ladder he would go and pry them out of place and carry them to the top. My mother went with him and stacked the bricks. This went on for some time and became almost routine. There was one time when that changed though.
Dad said he was getting near the bottom of that well, maybe twenty feet or so down. Even though it was broad daylight it was still quite dark in that hole. The sun was setting and not shining down there. He had pried a few more loose from the wall and headed up. It was very quiet and still and he could hear his breath as he climbed that ladder. He told me he heard something else as well but couldn't identify what it was. As his head and shoulders appeared above the edge of the well he saw Mom standing there waiting. She looked at him, screamed and began to run ! As she reached the car she hollered back, BAT ! It was about that time he noticed a little brown bat sitting on his shoulder. He brushed it away, climbed out of the well and went over to Mom. By this time she was in the car. The doors were shut and the windows rolled up. Dad grabbed the door handle and the door was locked ! Dad began laughing and Mom became furious. She had been frightened and didn't see a thing funny about it. Anyway, that is as much as I can remember about that. The bricks did get collected and that fireplace built.
There were many times we sat by the fire and heard that story. I'm thinking that we may have made popcorn as well. It was a beautiful fireplace. Sometimes when Dad would tell the story he would grin and tell us how mad Mom got at him for laughing at her. He would say, she was hotter than the fire in that fireplace ! It was just one of those little stories that was always fun to hear. No matter that it was repeated year after year, it was always funny. And Mom always got a little agitated too. It was more fun if you got to tell the story to company. Mom tried to act all " cool " about it in those situations, but we all knew what she was thinking. Isn't it great when we get to make someone enjoy a " quiet discomfort. " Some would say it's mean but I just think it is funny. Well, as long as the story isn't about me anyway.
Every day after work he would go to that place and gather bricks. The well wasn't all that deep and could be reached with a ladder. Down the ladder he would go and pry them out of place and carry them to the top. My mother went with him and stacked the bricks. This went on for some time and became almost routine. There was one time when that changed though.
Dad said he was getting near the bottom of that well, maybe twenty feet or so down. Even though it was broad daylight it was still quite dark in that hole. The sun was setting and not shining down there. He had pried a few more loose from the wall and headed up. It was very quiet and still and he could hear his breath as he climbed that ladder. He told me he heard something else as well but couldn't identify what it was. As his head and shoulders appeared above the edge of the well he saw Mom standing there waiting. She looked at him, screamed and began to run ! As she reached the car she hollered back, BAT ! It was about that time he noticed a little brown bat sitting on his shoulder. He brushed it away, climbed out of the well and went over to Mom. By this time she was in the car. The doors were shut and the windows rolled up. Dad grabbed the door handle and the door was locked ! Dad began laughing and Mom became furious. She had been frightened and didn't see a thing funny about it. Anyway, that is as much as I can remember about that. The bricks did get collected and that fireplace built.
There were many times we sat by the fire and heard that story. I'm thinking that we may have made popcorn as well. It was a beautiful fireplace. Sometimes when Dad would tell the story he would grin and tell us how mad Mom got at him for laughing at her. He would say, she was hotter than the fire in that fireplace ! It was just one of those little stories that was always fun to hear. No matter that it was repeated year after year, it was always funny. And Mom always got a little agitated too. It was more fun if you got to tell the story to company. Mom tried to act all " cool " about it in those situations, but we all knew what she was thinking. Isn't it great when we get to make someone enjoy a " quiet discomfort. " Some would say it's mean but I just think it is funny. Well, as long as the story isn't about me anyway.
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