Mark Dunn - American Decameron

III.

This is a lawsuit to evict the Defendants from property located at 2415 Ector Crossing, Dallas, Texas, within the jurisdictional boundaries of Precinct Six, Dallas County, Texas.

IV.

The plaintiffs are on a month-to-month lease. Notice to vacate was given on September 6, 1979.

V.

Although the defendants have always paid their rent on time, they are not model tenants by any means and reasons for their eviction continue to mount like broken promises from an alcoholic whore. Most recently, a neighbor, one Ginger Crampo, reported that the defendant Gus Windrow urinated on an ottoman in her living roomurinated on a tire in her front yard and draped her trees with soiled toilet paper.

VI.

There is also the matter of the daughter Robertine Windrow, who is a menace to the neighborhood, and we understand has just been released from jail so that she can continue on her rampage against the commons. An employee of Holman Properties once saw her through the window of Mr. Pickles’ Laundromat taking delicates that did not belong to her from an unattended dryer and then rubbing them roughly against her cheek in an act of lingerie mischief. The employee went in and had a long talk with her. He told her that she could not continue to behave in such an antisocial way, and that she was a menace to the neighborhood. Did she not notice the way that neighbors retreated into their homes when she traipsed by? Did she not see them standing half hidden behind curtains, fearfully brandishing things with long handles and defensive prongs? Furthermore, he explained to her that if she didn’t clean up her act, Holman Properties would have no choice but to evict her and her parents from its rental house. She responded by pouring an entire single-load box of Tide upon the employee’s head, which released enough laundry flakes into his hair that he was comically nicknamed “Mr. Druff” at that morning’s property managers’ meeting. (His first name is Dan.)

VII.

Plaintiff prays that Defendants be served with Citations and that Plaintiff have judgment for possession of the premises as soon as authorized by law, and judgment for costs and attorney’s fees, if applicable.

Respectfully submitted,

Axel Montgomery

7400 E. Nacogdoches

Dallas, Texas

ATTY FOR PLAINTIFF

CAUSE NO. 76119

THE STATE OF TEXAS

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IN THE JUSTICE COURT

v.

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PRECINCT NO. SIX

ROBERTINE WINDROW

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DALLAS CTY, TX

TO THE HONORABLE JUDGE OF SAID COURT:

NOW COMES THE DEFENDANT ON THIS 21ST DAY OF NOVEMBER, 1979, AND PLEADS NOT GUILTY TO THE CHARGE OF SPEEDING 85/45, AND REQUESTS A HEARING.

(signed) Gus Windrow

OPTIONAL: State briefly your reason for pleading not guilty. (This information is requested for statistical purposes only and will not be considered as an adjunct to your sworn testimony.)

My wife and stepdaughter and I had just been evicted from our house and were making every effort to leave the neighborhood in a timely fashion, but no, it was not fast enough for our neighbors, who were anxious to get their “Finally Free of the Windrows” barbecue block party started, so happy were they to have us gone that their display of joy bordered on the obscene. When some of the younger among them began to throw rocks and beer cans and Eight is Enough action figures at us, I put the pedal to the metal to get off of that street with my family and my life intact. This is why I was speeding. These were extenuating circumstances if there ever were any.

APPLICATION FOR PEACE BOND

STATE OF TEXAS

CAUSE NO 3422

COUNTY OF DALLAS

I, GUS WINDROW, ZENA WINDROW, AND ROBERTINE WINDROW, DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT WE HAVE GOOD REASON TO BELIEVE AND DO BELIEVE THAT A MAN WHOSE NAME WE DO NOT KNOW BUT WHO IS REFERRED TO LOCALLY AS SASSYSQUATCH IS ABOUT TO COMMIT AN OFFENSE AGAINST MY PERSON, TO-WIT:

We are in fear for both our safety and our very lives. It all started when we were evicted from our house and had to go live in a drainage pipe. The pipe looked unoccupied, so we felt that squatters’ rights would apply. Unfortunately, the hairy gentleman who does not speak except through grunts, or strange appropriations of the lyrics of songs made popular by Judy Garland, has made it clear that we must pay him (money which we do not have) or he will remove us by force.

“Forget your luggage, c’mon, get outta here! Before I chase all you deadbeats away!” That’s from “Get Happy,” if you don’t know it, and that’s exactly what we aren’t these days. To have reached such a low point in our life trajectory! How we long for the old days when Robertine was on her Valium and I was on the wagon and we all could sit in perfect peace and contentment and drink our cupcoffee. How we miss that quiet cupcoffee and the close-knit family togetherness that accompanied it.

If we can get the court’s protection for one week more, I’ll have my disability check in hand and we can move someplace else. Where troubles melt like lemon drops and happy little bluebirds…you get the picture, I’m sure.

I’d hardly gotten a chance to take a peek at my Batman comic book before he was back from the kitchen and the fuse box and climbing the ladder and telling me in his deep, crusty voice to pay close attention. I think he said this out of force of habit, because I was always paying attention. That’s why I was there. That’s why I was spending all of my summer vacation that year learning how to put a house back together so a person — in this case, two persons, my step-grandparents — could move in, could be comfortable, and in the case of this rusty old burned-out chandelier, could have a little light to eat their dinner by.

“Hold the ladder. Are you holding the ladder, son?”

“I’m holding the ladder.”

“First you gotta — hand me that screwdriver, son.”

I handed up the screwdriver.

“You gotta unscrew the canopy and pull it down the stem. You see what I’m doing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Once you get — okay, take this screw. No, no. Remind me where I’m putting it. I’m putting the canopy screws in my shirt pocket.”

“In your shirt pocket — got it.”

“Once you get the canopy down the stem then you gotta unscrew the wire caps from the connections. You wanna get a hamburger at Miss LuAnne’s for lunch?”

“Okay.”

“You want a grilled cheese?”

“Okay.”

“And a Coca-Cola? Where’s my tester? You see what I’m doing, Wayne? I’m touching one of the probes to the black wire connection and the other one to the grounded box. Are you watching?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want a Grape Nehi?”

“Okay.”

“You’re a choosy one. Now I’m testing the white wire connection. Black wire, metal box. Everything gets checked. No glow on the tester. No juice. That’s good. Hand me my water thermos. Throat’s dry.”

I handed Granddad his water thermos and he took a swig. Granddad’s throat was always dry. Just a year earlier he’d had the cancerous part of his esophagus removed. Granddad always had his water thermos with him.

“All right. Now I’m untwisting the wire connections. Can you see?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okey dokey. Hold the light fixture while I take off the whatchacallit — the strap. You got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I talked to your grandmother this morning — looks like she’s gonna come see us next week. Asked her to bring you a sleeping bag so she could have your cot. You okay roughing it with a sleeping bag, son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, I’m putting the mounting strap in my lower right pocket. Screws are in there, too. Now let’s get to work replacing those sockets.”