The Furnace Fix He Only Remembered Standing in Her Basement
The phone rings at a quarter to ten on the first cold night of October, and the voice on the other end says, "You said something about this last spring." It is a brick ranch on the west side of Kingfisher, built in the seventies, with a hallway that runs the length of the house and a furnace closet at the far end of it. The customer is a woman in her late sixties who has lived there since her kids were small. She keeps a good house. She keeps a pad by the phone. And she cannot, for the life of her, tell me what I said. I had been out in April for the spring check on the air conditioner. While…
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