No. 163

“Yep. You’ve got freezer demons,” said the pest-control man.

I had never heard this term before.

“What are those?” I asked him. I wanted to see where this went.

“Demons, girl, weren’t you listening? Set up in your freezer. Cause the burning.”

“Freezer burn is caused by demons?”

I suspected this fellow had no idea what he was talking about.

“A-yep,” he repeated, adjusting a tool belt and clearing his throat.

“And how much will it cost me to get rid of them?”

Now I was just toying with him.

He scratched his special area before he replied. “Reckon about seven thousand dollars, to be safe. Six, if you pay cash.”

“Why wouldn’t I just buy a new fridge? Surely that would be less.”

“You could do that. Or call the refridgetrician man out. I guarantee they’d be back, though. Got a spray in my van, -‘ll get ‘em real good.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“You might not last the night!” he warned ominously.

I rolled my eyes, making sure that he didn’t see.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve kept them at bay this long.”

 I escorted him to the door and watched as he got into his battered pick-up truck and drove away. I picked up the phone and dialed my friend.

He didn’t answer, so I left a message.

“Reg, thanks for the referral. I had your cousin come by about the termites, but I think I’m going to go with somebody else.”