Who You Gonna Call?

I ambushed the crazy ex-tenant today. I lay in wait on the front porch knowing sooner or later she would come for the bait, her mail. I sprang to the curb when she pulled up and told her I realized from yesterday's conversation that she was afraid to tell me the reasons for her hasty departure for fear of a lawsuit, but I had three kids to worry about and all kinds of bizarre thoughts about what we'd find out soon enough had been running through my mind. I may have mentioned dangerous electrical work and sexual predators. I did not mention the G word.

She apologized and admitted that after she'd driven off she should have further explained the situation, though the circumstances of her vacancy had left her very angry at her landlords, because yes, my family was in danger.

I froze.

"There is something in the house," she told me. Feigning innocence I egged her on saying I'd heard something skittering around above the ceiling and figured it was at best a squirrel, or at worst a rat. "No," she replied, "it's not that..." She hesitated, "It's worse..."

Oh, holy shit, remember to breathe, send Elle up on the porch so she doesn't hear the gory details...

"It's some kind of creature, it walks around the house at night. It came in my bedroom!

Further description confirmed it was a wayward 'possum. Phew! No problem! We have dogs, they'll chase it off (though the kids would have loved to have seen the little critter waddle around one night.) The weight had lifted off my chest and she went on to detail the nastiness with the landlord's wife and the apparent plague of palmetto bugs and lizards around the house.

And just when I thought we would wrap up the conversation on a light note, her voice dropped to a whisper, "There is something else in the house..." She gave me a look, eyebrows raised, slowly nodding her head as if to say, yes, you know what I'm talking about, what I'm about to say, you've already noticed it, I'm sure.

Okay, HERE it comes, I thought, dark shapes by the bedside, doors and windows opening and closing by themselves, lights turning on and off, whispers...

"Black Mold."

My relief was so explosive I laughed in her face and suddenly heard Ray Parker Jr. singing "Moldbusters" in my head.

I ain't 'fraid of no mold!