4 – The Night Coach
Random flashes from the passing lights illuminated Ann’s face as she sat in the nearly empty commuter train. The rhythmic rattle of the tracks lulled her senses. She stared through the window, with heavy eyelids, at the blurred abstractions of the night that streamed past.
“Excuse me…” came the gentle sound of a man’s voice.
Ann’s trance was broken and her eyes focused from the scene outside the train to the reflection of the interior of the car in the glass. There was a face of an old man looking back at her. She turned quickly.
The man looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Ann saw that he was a pleasant old gent who appeared to be the last of the old-fashioned traveling salesmen, complete with rumpled suit, bow-tie, hat, and two large, plain black, sample cases. He reminded Ann of Clarence, the angel, from her favorite old movie, It’s a Wonderful Life.
“Would you mind if I sat down?”
Ann shook her head. The man slid his cases on the seat across from Ann and sat down next to them. Ann began to look out the window again.
After
a few moments the man broke the silence. “I love trains at
night, don’t you? The rattle of the rails, the throbbing, pulsating
light of countless passing lives—it’s positively hypnotic.
Don’t you agree?”
Ann smiled slightly and nodded.
“A person could loose himself in the train’s vibrating rhythm.” he continued. “It makes one almost forget one’s troubles, doesn’t it?”
Ann nodded again.
The man reached into his breast pocket and removed a business card. He leaned forward and handed it to Ann.
Ann politely took the card, flipping from the blank back to the front. The card reads simply: Phinneas Fenster, Salesman.
“Phinneas Fenster at you service, Ma’am.”
“A traveling salesman? In this day and age?”
“There are a few of us left, miss…?”
“Dee. Ann Dee—but most people call me Andy.”
“That’s nice. I like that—Andy!
“And what is it that you sell, Mr. Fenster?”
“Phinneas, please call me Phinneas. Well you see, Andy, the traveling salesman today just can’t compete in the mass market place, so those of us left on the road have specialized. We offer very specific products for very specific needs. What is it that you need, Andy?”
Ann was hesitant about replying.
“Come on, Andy! Everybody needs something,” he prodded.
“Really, I’m sure you wouldn’t have what I need to take care of my problem.”
“And what sort of problem would that be, Andy?
“Pests, Mr. Fenster, pests!”
Phinneas Fenster let out a hearty laugh. “Why Andy, didn’t you look at my card?”
Ann looked at the card again. It read simply: Phinneas Fenster, Salesman.
“On the back, Andy. On the back.”
“But I…” she started to protest as she fliped the card over again. Her eyes widened. In bold letters it read:
Ann looked at Phinneas with amazement.
“How fortunate we bumped into each other,” he said in response to her look.
“Uh, yes… but I don’t understand…”
Phinneas waved his hand dismissively, “We specialize in what people need—it’s that simple. So Andy, what do you have? Roaches? Spiders? Ants? Rodents?”
“E. All of the above!”
The old man arched a shaggy grey eyebrow. “My, my! You don’t say!” He reached into his breast pocket again and withdrew a pair of reading glasses and a small black book. He rested the glasses well down toward the end of his nose and began to flip through the book. “What a nasty combination of pests! Lets see? Roaches, and spiders…uh-huh…so far, so good! Ants, you said?” Phinneas peered over the top of his glasses at Ann.
“And silverfish,” she added.
“Oh my, you didn’t mention those pesky little devils before!” He flipped through several more pages of the little black book. “And rodents, you said. Rats?”
“Mice, actually—well really only one mouse.”
Phinneas shook his head solemly, “Where there is one rat…”
“Mouse,” Ann corrected.
“Whatever… Can others be far behind?” He flipped through yet more pages. “Ah-hah! Yes, I think that this is the only answer—Triple A’s Rid-it! Yes, yes, that will certainly do the trick!” Phinneas snapped the book shut and slid it back into his coat pocket. “Rid-it” is our very best product. Indeed, it is the best product available anywhere! It is the Cadillac of pest control—and I assure you that you can’t buy a product like this in a store. No siree, you wont find the likes of it at your K-marts or hardware stores! Here, let me show you!”
Phinneas reached over and slid one of the sample cases onto his lap. The lid was inscribed with the same notation that Ann found on the back of the card: AAA PEST CONTROL, Guaranteed! Phinneas rummaged through the case, whose contents were hidden from Ann by the raised lid.
“Ah, yes! Here it is!
Phinneas closed the lid and held up a small container not much larger than a box of stick matches. In fact, it looked very much like a cellophane-wrapped box of stick matches. He peered over his glasses and noted the look of skepticism on Ann’s face.
“Guaranteed! All of Triple-A’s products are guaranteed! Rid-it will rid your house of every known type of household pest—guaranteed!
“Everything? Spiders, ants…”
“Large and small, we rid them all!” he assured her.
“And how many boxes will I need to buy?”
“Just the one.”
Ann looked doubtful. “We have a rather large house.”
“I’m a salesman, Andy. I’ll sell you as many as you might want—but you only need one.” He paused a second before adding, “Guaranteed!”
“Well, how much?”
“How much is your satisfaction worth? You tell me.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a sheet of paper. “Here, take the box and read these instructions. If you want to try it, take it home with you. If you’re absolutely, 100%, completely satisfied with its performance, just send a check or money order for the amount you feel is fair to the address listed below. If you are unhappy with Rid-it just return it to us, no questions asked. Satisfaction guaranteed!”
Ann took the box and the paper, which she unfolded and began to read. Her eyes widened as she read. She looks up at the old man. The seat opposite her was empty. Ann leaned out into the aisle but no one was stirring in the dimly lit night coach. She sat back and lifted the small container to examine it.
– End Chapter Four –
