Dizzy (Notevember 2020, #19)

“So?” I asked the handyman. “Do you know what the problem is?”
“Yeap, reckon I do.” He knocked on the wall with the back of his screwdriver. “Yes, indeed.”
“And?” I was anxious to know, and his slow going – “deliberate”, I’m sure he’d say – had been dragging the process out something fierce.
“Well, see, whatcha got here is yer standard case of dimensional shift in the support beams, to which the whole shebang is liable to follow, y’follow?”
“Um, dimensional shift?”
“Yup, that’s right. I see it lots in these parts. Craftsmanship’s good an’ all, but they done skimped on the materials. Quality matters. This is why these things come crashin’ down or implodin’ or whatnot after just fifteen, twenty years or so.”
“I think this house is just ten years old.”
“Sure, sounds about right. But then there’s maintenance and such, which, if it ain’t done proper – well, that’s just a whole ‘nother issue right there, ain’t it?”
“Now, that’s not fair. We’ve made damn sure the upkeep was kept up with as well as you can ask for.”
“Calm down, I wasn’t saying it’s on y’all’s watch. You bought this place from the Millers, right?”
“Yeah. Three years ago. But there weren’t any issues back then. Everything right as rain. We even had an independent assessment made.”
The handyman started laughing. “Independent? Ain’t nobody independent from no one else in Halstonville, ma’am.”
“You’re saying I got suckered?” I asked. This was not the news I had hoped my wife would come home to. Especially after the building permit debacle last week.
“Could be, but not necessarily. It’s just bad building and bad luck, I’d wager. Fixable, though. Not cheap, that’s fer sure, but manageable. Yes, indeed.”
Slightly better than bad, then. Hopefully Janet would see it that way too. “Well, I would love it if you could get it done quickly. This whole mess” – I gestured towards the warped hallway – “is giving me one helluva headache. Just looking at it makes me dizzier than a parched dog on a carousel.”
“Oh, I believe ya. Still, coulda been far worse. My second cousin, lives up in Boston, told me ‘bout a house just down his street. Quiet neighborhood, but turns out the folks there had been involved in one of them pastime Ctulhu-cults. Their basement… Well, the way he ‘scribed it, everything was inside out and upside down and gravity goin’ every which way but south. Y’all lucky by comparison. Except they brought it on themselves, I suppose.”
“I’ll feel lucky if you can deal with this by the end of the week.”
“No can do, ma’am. Lots of work this time of year. But tell you what, I’ll check the ole calendar right quick, and…”
“The in-laws are coming over on Wednesday next.”
“Well, shit. I’ll have my boys over first thing tomorrow. I know my priorities.”
“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. Now, you or yer missus ever get any allergic reactions near Higgs-Hawking field destabilizers?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Well, best see if it doesn’t run in the family, either. Else dizziness and headaches will be the least of yer worries.”
Janet was not going to like this. Now, how to placate her? Flowers, dinner, or something else?