He wrote yes. "Mrs. Shimfissle, would you say that the amount of your monthly electric bill is, in your opinion, high, medium, or low?"
"That's a good one. Hmmm, I would say just about right. To tell the truth, for what all you get for your money, it's a bargain. Now, don't hold me to it, but I would pay a lot more if they asked me to but don't put that down. I don't want them to raise my bill. That's just between you and me."
He checked off low. "So would you say you use your electrical appliances more than the average person?"
"As a matter of fact, I think electricity is just about the best value you can get for your money, other than having a baby or a heart operation. Did I say I had an electric heater in my bathroom?"
"No, ma'am, but…"
"Put that down. You know, sometimes I get to thinking about value… and you just wonder how people figure it, don't you."
"Ma'am?"
"How people figure the value of things. What things are worth, for instance. Do you know that an automobile costs more than it does to go to the hospital to have a baby? Now, who figured out that a car is worth more than a baby is what I want to know. My neighbor's husband, Merle, went all the way to Texas and had a doctor put him in a new heart valve so he wouldn't die, and it cost less than it does to buy a good house trailer. Now, have you ever heard of a house trailer saving a man's life?"
"No, ma'am, but…"
"That's right, you haven't. I said, Verbena, what would you rather have, a new house trailer or your husband? You wouldn't even enjoy that trailer if your husband was dead, would you? And she had to admit I was right. I'd take a heart valve over a house trailer any day, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am. I just have a few more questions."
"But you're young yet, so you won't be needing a heart valve for a long time but when you do, think about this one. Think about how much money that heart valve, something that is no bigger than my thumb, costs and how big that house trailer is. No matter how you slice it… you may get something bigger but it won't keep your heart going…. So that brings me back to my point."
"Ma'am?"
"Electricity is the best value we have going and we can't even see it!"
He saw an opening and he took it. "So would you say in regards to your electric service that you are very satisfied, moderately satisfied, or not satisfied?"
"I would say that I'm extremely satisfied, satisfied-beyond-my wildest-dreams satisfied. Back in 1928 my sister Gerta said, Just wait until you get electricity out there on the farm, and I remember the first time they ran it up to the house and I've loved it ever since. I don't know how we ever got along without it. You tell them down at the electric company that I think electricity is perfectly wonderful. Why, just think how much we depend on it and I'll tell you something else. After Jesus, I think that Thomas Edison is the second most important man that ever lived on this earth… bar none. And to think we don't even have a holiday named after him. They gave Saint Patrick his own day and what did he do but run out a bunch of snakes. Why, Thomas Edison lit up the world. If it hadn't been for him we'd all still be sitting here in the dark, with nothing but a candle, and we don't even celebrate his birthday. The Wizard of Memo Park doesn't even get a holiday."
The young man started to push his papers back in his satchel. "Yes, ma'am, that's true."
"You're too young to remember but I remember the day he died, in thirty-one. Everybody put their lights out for one minute. But then after that they forgot all about him. But I don't forget him. Do you know what I do each year on Tom's birthday?"
"No, ma'am."
"I turn on everything I own, all my lights, my washing machine, my fans, my radio, my TV and I let them play all day. And I say, Happy Birthday, torn. Now, that is how highly I think of Mr. Thomas Edison."
"Well, thank you for your time, ma'am." He stood up, ready to leave.
"Let me ask you this… do they have a picture of Thomas Edison on the wall down at the Missouri Power and Light Company?"
"Not that I remember, ma'am."
"See what I mean? Here none of them would even have a job if it hadn't been for old torn Edison and they don't even put his picture up."
"Yes, ma'am." He started inching toward the door.
"Am I all done? Is it over?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh… well, how' did I…"
"You did just fine."
"Above average?"
"I'd say above average."
She got up. "Wait a minute, let me give you some figs and plums before you go." She walked over and grabbed a wrinkled brown paper bag from a drawer and started to fill it with fresh fruit. "Now, I used this sack once, but it's clean, so don't you worry about germs and you don't need to wash these. I don't put any poison on them. I figure whatever bugs get to them first, they are welcome to them. Besides, they always leave me plenty… so much I can't even find enough people to give them away to and I hate to have them go bad, don't you? So I'm gonna put some extra ones in for your mother, O.K.?"
Dazed, he took the sack and headed for the door. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Well, that's just fine… and I wish you all the best of luck with your project. But tell them they ought to put torn Edison's picture on the wall."
"Yes, ma'am, I certainly will." He was halfway down the back stairs when she came to the door. "Hey, I just thought of something I forgot… put down my electric blanket. Add that to my list, will you? And hey, you need to go over to Norma's house and give her the test. She has all kinds of appliances. She's two blocks over at 212 Second Avenue." Then she added, "But don't tell her I sent you. She's still mad about that insurance woman."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, but he was not going to interview anybody related to her. They all might be crazy.
Except for wearing shoes and the flower boutonnieres, all the prison trustees were certainly glad to be living in the governor's mansion instead of jail and Cecil Figgs was as happy as a lark planning all the social events. But nobody on the governor's staff was having a better time than his old friend Rodney Tillman. Being in charge of the governor's public relations was quite a jump from used-car salesman, and he took full advantage of it. One afternoon Rodney came strolling into Hamm's office looking like the cat who ate the canary, sat down, and casually said, "Hey, Hambo, how would you like to have a boat?"
Hamm looked up from his papers. "A boat? What kind of a boat?"
"A big boat."
He reached into his shirt pocket and threw a photograph of a brand-new thirty-five-foot Chris-Craft cabin cruiser on Hamm's desk. Hamm picked it up and looked at it and smiled.
"You know I've always wanted a boat. Why?"
Rodney leaned in and said, "Because, ol' buddy, I know a fellow that's just dying to give you one just like that."
"Give me one… what for?"
"He figured with all the stress you're under that you need a place where you can go and relax, get away from it all. This boat he's just dying to give you sleeps eight and can slip on down to Florida or the Bahamas for that matter, anytime you want to take a little trip."
"Who is this guy?"
"Just one of your big supporters… who wants to do something nice for you."
"What's the matter with you, Rodney? As long as I'm governor, you know I can't take any gifts from anybody."
"Well, hell, Hambo, I know that… but there's a lot of ways to skin a cat. Now, suppose he was to lock this boat up in a boathouse somewhere for you to borrow and take out for a ride anytime you wanted… that would be all right, wouldn't it?"
Hamm looked at him suspiciously. "Come on, Rodney, this sounds fishy."