Short Circuit

Short Circuit

Noel Laflin

6-22-14

My old father had seen better days.

He was now a fellow with only a clear memory of decades prior.  Chasing Rommel across the sands of North Africa, for example, could be recounted with perfect clarity.   Recent events were kind of iffy, however, – sometimes downright goofy. It was to stay this way for the remainder of his life.  But, he did not seem to mind as much as the rest of us.  To dad, time just became a perpetual loop of pleasant forgetfulness.

   

“Hello, son!!” my father exclaimed with great surprise as I crossed his living room floor, flashlight and screwdriver in hand.  “When did you get here?”

“Just a little while ago, dad,” I smiled, walking into the dining room and flipping off a circuit breaker in the wall box behind the kitchen table.  The old wooden piece was all set for dinner.  I had brought over a homemade casserole, which was cooking away in the oven.

“What are you doing in there?” dad asked.  “Not that I’m unhappy to see you,” he added, shifting his weight in the wheel chair which I had recently liberated from the hospital – along with the old man himself just a month prior.

“Fixing the ceiling fan in your bathroom,” I replied, as I retraced my steps past him once again, heading down the hall to his bedroom.  “I had to turn off the circuit breaker to your bathroom so I don’t electrocute myself as I try to replace the light and fan switch.”

“Oh,” he said, frowning slightly.  “I did not know it was broken.”  He brightened with his follow-up question:  “Are you staying for dinner?”

“Sure, dad – soon as I get this sucker working,” I answered absently as I struggled to hold the flashlight under my armpit and shine it onto the inner wires beneath the wall plate of the two bathroom switches.  I unscrewed the old piece and popped in the newly acquired double switch from Ace Hardware.  I walked back down the hallway, re-crossing the living room once more on my way to the circuit breaker box.  My father looked up from the wheelchair as I passed.

“Hello, son!” my father exclaimed with genuine surprise – “When did you get here?”

“Just a little while ago, dad.  I’m fixing the fan in your bathroom.

“Oh, I did not know it was broken.  Are you staying for dinner?”

“Sure, why not?”

“That’s great,” he said.  “But, why exactly are you here?” he added, frowning ever so slightly, wondering no doubt as to why the question seemed familiar.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you of course,” he amended, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m fixing the fan in your bathroom,” I replied.  The switch is out.  I brought over a new one.

“Oh,” he said.  I knew what was coming next.

“I did not know it was broken.”

“I’ll have it fixed in no time, dad.

“OK,” he said.  “Say, are you staying for dinner?”

“Sure – that would be nice.  Well, back to the light switch.  Ought to be working fine now.”

As I sauntered back down the hall I could hear the faint success of a bathroom ceiling fan – well, fanning away.  But, it looked awfully dark where the bathroom light should have been pouring into my father’s bedroom.

“Damn it!” I muttered, realizing that although the fan was now indeed operational – the overhead light was not.  

I trudged down the hall on my way back to the circuit breaker once more.

“Hello, son!” my father said excitedly – as I emerged from the hallway.  “When did you get here?”

I told my father about the broken fan in the bathroom.

He seemed genuinely concerned about not knowing it was broken.

I wanted to put his tired mind at ease just a bit - as well as beat him to the punch.

“So, dad,” I began, “maybe I’ll stay for dinner after I’m done.  How’s that?”

“I was just going to suggest that,” he said happily.  “Say, you must be a mind reader!”

“Well, great minds think alike, you know.”  And, with that I flipped a switch and hoped for the best.