that's mrs. mediocrity to you

Dear Liza,

There’s a hole in the bucket. I know that doesn’t sound like much of a problem, but the water’s been off for two weeks now because the pipe that burst still isn’t fixed. I’ve been walking down to the spigot at the end of the lane several times a day, just to get the basics taken care of. Trust me when I tell you that nobody wants to be the person who bumps into me on my morning trip, before I’ve had my coffee. Also, I haven’t had a proper bath in 15 days. (Yes, I’m counting.)

Now I have nothing to carry water in. I’ve tried several times, but by the time I get back to the house, most of the water has leaked out, even if I walk as fast as I can. This is ridiculous. You promised you’d have someone here to fix it by last Tuesday. Please advise.

Best,
Henry

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Dear Henry,

I can’t believe you wrote me a letter to tell me there’s a hole in the bucket. Walk your lazy butt down to the store and get yourself a new one. I’ll reimburse you when you pay next month’s rent. Then again, I won’t be holding my breath waiting for that to happen, because you still haven’t paid last month’s. Or the month before that. Maybe instead of spending all your time carrying water, you should think about looking for a job.

By the way, I haven’t sent anyone to fix the pipe yet because Darren broke his collarbone, and Fred’s had the flu. I’m sorry you’re being so inconvenienced, but I’ve got my hands full just now. You should see how much laundry I have to do every day, just to keep up with the twins’ diapers. And that’s not to mention Jordy’s play clothes. Life isn’t easy, that’s a fact. If you want to take a bath you can come over here. I’ve got a stack of ironing piled up to the ceiling, the garden hasn’t been weeded in weeks, and I’m almost out of firewood. A pair of extra hands would come in handy.

Sincerely,
Liza

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Dear Liza,

I’m really sorry to hear about Darren and Fred. I didn’t know you were having so many troubles of your own, sometimes I get to thinking it’s just me that’s miserable, up here on this hill all alone, and everybody else is just peachy. I’ve been thinking of looking for a job, but right now’s not a good time, especially since all my clothes are dirty.

I’ll figure something out about the water, there’s a couple a bowls in the cupboard that might work. Thanks for your kind invitation, but I wouldn’t want to impose on your household and keep you from your work.

And I know just what you mean, I find myself wishing for an extra hand or two often, just think how much easier life would be! Heck, if I had more hands and a couple more buckets, I’d be able to make fewer trips down to that spigot.

Listen to us, just a couple of dreamers.

Anyway, please send someone to fix the pipes when you can, as things are getting a little ripe around here, if you get my meaning.

Signed,
Dirty Henry

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Dear Henry,

You’re not so good at taking a hint are you?

I’ve got two extra buckets here if you want to come and get them. Maybe while you’re at it, you could chop some wood for me and we could deduct some money off your back rent. I gotta tell you though, Fred’s just about had it. Yesterday he told me he thinks you’re a freeloader. And even though I told him not to talk that way about my brother, I didn’t have much to back up my argument, especially after I’d mentioned that you said no when I asked you for some help.

So now I’m just gonna come right out and say it: I’ll be expecting you by Wednesday at the latest. I need help and you need the work. Fred’s still real sick and I’m exhausted. Ain’t nobody going to get to those pipes for a long time. In fact, Fred’s thinking it might be best to just put the old place up for sale, it being more work than it’s worth and all.

Make sure you clear out all the food and close the place up nice and tight before you come, okay? Clean everything up, too, I hate finding a mess when I walk into a place.

Oh, and can you bring granny’s old silver along with you? I think I’m going to take it down to Old Bart’s and sell it off, we sure could use the extra cash right now.

‘Til Wednesday,
Liza

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Dear Liza,

It pains me to tell you that I took Granny’s silver into town a few months ago. I polished it up real nice before I took it down, and Bart gave me a real good price. I bought myself that nice pair of boots I’d had my eye on for a while, which is a good thing now that I’m doing all this walking back and forth to carry water.

I found a few more bowls, and even an old milk jug, so I’m getting along just fine. I even rigged myself up a little shower with the garden hose and the rain barrel, so you don’t need to worry about me. Tell Fred I said hello, and I hope he’s feeling good again soon. I’ll mention your troubles to old Jakes when he brings me the mail, maybe he’ll know of a girl who could come and help you out for awhile.

But don’t you worry about me, none, I’ll be fine.

Things are good,
Henry

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Dear Henry,

Well, if that doesn’t just take the cake! Momma always said you were too lazy for your own good, and now I can see she was right.

Just so’s you know, Fred’s feeling better, and tomorrow he’s going to see Mr. Witherspoon about putting Granny’s house up for sale. He’ll be sending you a letter telling you how soon you need to be out. Please make sure the place isn’t a mess, I don’t want to be embarrassed on top of being mad as a hornet.

Oh, and be sure to leave your rent money, plus whatever you made when you sold off Granny’s silver. It says right in her will that the house and everything in it belongs to me.

Just because you already squandered everything Momma left you doesn’t mean you’re gonna live off me and Fred. Don’t write me anymore of your stupid letters, neither. You live less than a mile away. If you got something to say to me, quit being a coward and walk down here and say it to my face.

By the way, George Garrett is coming by tomorrow to fix the pipe. Please throw away that useless bucket.

Have a nice life,
Liza

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I’ve signed up for A Story A Day’s May challenge, which is to write a short piece of fiction every day. I don’t think I’ll be posting every day, but I will be writing, and I’ll post whatever seems worthy.

The prompt for this was “Write An Epistolary Story.” I have no idea why Liza and Henry popped into my head, except that I used to love that song when I was a little girl. I thought I’d have a little fun with it.

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