What We Build Upon the Ruins by Giano Cromley

Author:Giano Cromley [Giano Cromley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

3 Out of 5 Stars

This was the first vacuum I ever bought, so I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I combed the aisle, pretending to make an informed decision, before settling on the Dynamex Life-Scrubber 3000. I hoisted the box off the shelf and solemnly proffered my plastic to the red-besmocked officiant at the cash register: a secular commitment ceremony.

Once I got the Life-Scrubber unboxed and assembled (iffy instructions, it should be noted), everything seemed fine. Those first few months were all about dust bunnies under the couch, cobwebs on the windowsills—small potatoes, cleaning-wise. You could say I was naïve to the types and depths of disorder that could infiltrate a person’s life.

Three months later my girlfriend Janice had a living situation that had become untenable, and we decided it would be more tenable for her to move in with me. At that point things got harder for the Life-Scrubber 3000. It wasn’t Janice who taxed the machine so much as it was her two Maine coons. (In case you’re not familiar with that term, let me just say that they’re a particular breed of cat. I’m also convinced they’re somebody’s idea of a sick joke. Maine coons weigh in around thirty pounds, and they’re as friendly as bobcats.)

Janice called them Emma and Rosemary, but I privately referred to them as Butkus and C.H.U.D. Upon moving in, Butkus annexed the kitchen. I’d come home to find Cheerios or Kix littering the countertops and floors. For these messes, the Life-Scrubber’s detachable extension hose made cleanups a snap.

C.H.U.D., on the other hand, took a keen interest in my houseplants, of which I used to have many. C.H.U.D. would methodically uproot and dismantle them, leaving their dismembered parts all over the living room. Potting soil was dug up and flung like blood spatter at a crime scene. While these messes were more of a nuisance than Butkus’s kitchen adventures, they were still well within the Life-Scrubber’s wheelhouse.

These early challenges were upsetting, but this was also back when things were still fresh between Janice and me. Back when we had the kind of sex that was so passionate, physical and raw that our bed smelled like a gladiator’s locker room. It’s easy to overlook the little things when you’ve got that going on. Of course, sex like that has a finite lifespan. Which turned out to be shorter than the Life-Scrubber’s.

The biggest challenge, though, was the fur. My God, the fur! Another thing you may not know about Maine coons is that they are prolifically hirsute. They’re covered in dense blooms of hair, which would accumulate in mounds of reddish fuzz. I’d do a pass-through with the Life-Scrubber, and within minutes, there’d be fresh piles waiting. If we opened a window to get some cross-ventilation going, waves of Maine coon fur would roll across the floors.

At this point I discovered the Life-Scrubber’s limits. The roller brush began catching, which would cause the rubber belt to shriek and smoke. I disassembled it and found the brush clotted with hair.

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