Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007
- Автор: Baldwin Barry, Campbell Melodie
- Год: 2007
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: ISSN:0002-5224
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007». Краткое содержание книги:
I went down to the basement to commence the Some Assembly. With the aid of a Stanley knife and a pair of shears, I soon had the elements of The Appliance arrayed on the concrete floor. There were a lot of them. Some were made of bright chrome, and some, uglier than the others, of black, surly iron. Yet others, and there were sixteen of them, were made of teak, tectonis grandis, unless I miss my guess, presumably from the forests of Java.
There was also a large, bulky yellow envelope, which presumably contained the plans and instructions for assembly. I took it upstairs to the kitchen to read while having a cup of tea.
I was right. The envelope contained a sixteen-page booklet of very detailed instructions.
In Chinese.
I said “Tchah!” I think, or it may even have been “Pshaw!” This was a most aggravating setback. I thought about it as I drank my tea. On the back of the manual, there was a telephone number, the only thing that was not in Chinese.
I decided to ring the number. I had to suffer three minutes of music plus five of computerized directions, pressing 1 for Customer Service Helpline, and then a six-minute wait while a robotic voice told me that my call was in a queue and would be answered directly. At last, a human voice came onto the line.
“Hello? How may I help you, sir or madam?”
“To whom am I speaking?” I asked; I always like to know the name of my correspondant.
“Mr. Rajit Patel at your service, sir,” said the voice, “and what seems to be the problem? Whatever it is, be sure that I will do my utmost to help you out of your current quagmire.”
I was pleased with his tone and explained.
“Ah,” he said, “The Appliance. I am knowing this product. There is none better. Mrs. Patel’s sister purchased one such. But it is to be employed with moderation, sir. Mrs. Patel’s sister now has arms like a stevedore, not attractive in a woman of small stature, which is her case.”
“However, the instruction booklet is in Chinese,” I informed him.
“Which, of course, you do not speak or read, sir. I understand. This is not uncommon.”
“Could you go and ask someone to send me instructions in English?”
“I would, sir, but the ‘go’ part of it is somewhat problematic.”
“Why?” I asked, “Are you not at the factory?”
He engaged in a long and, to be honest, irritating peal of high-pitched laughter.
“Oh, my dear sir, no, no, not at all. I am merely an insignificant cog in a vast worldwide machine. You are in communication with a call center.”
My heart sank.
“A call center where?”
“In Peshawar, my dear sir.”
I had a hazy idea of where this was.
“You are in India?”
“Indeed not, sir. Peshawar is an important regional capital of Pakistan.”
“Mr. Patel, if you are in Pakistan, how are you able to help me?”
“Simplicity itself. I merely have to call the manufacturer, who if memory serves me correctly, is in the city of Anadhapura.”
“Is that close to Peshawar?”
Again the peal of laughter.
“Oh sir, I can see we did not score highly in geography during our schooldays, dear old golden rule days. Anadhapura is on the lovely island of Sri Lanka.”
I was puzzled.
“I’m sure that my delivery didn’t come from Sri Lanka.”
“That is correct sir. Your appliance came from the regional distribution center nearest to you.”
“Well,” I said, “couldn’t we call the distribution center?”
“That would be the very last thing I would do, my dear sir. They are mere muscle, donkeys, beasts of burden. They have zero intellectual capacity; their tasks do not involve brainwork. No, the recognized procedure is for me to pass on your complaint to the factory in Sri Lanka, who will no doubt expedite your instructions as a matter of urgency. Fear not, my dear sir, I will treat this as an emergency. I will tell them that you are chomping at the bit, suffering agonies of suspense. I may tell you, in brackets, that my wife is in similar throes with her electric Hoover.”
After some mutual and cordial banalities, I left Mr. Patel, not without asking him to give my regards to Mrs. Patel and to wish her well with her electric vacuum cleaner.
“I will tell her, sir. She will be gratified.”
Well, this was an annoyance and no mistake. I went down to the basement and began to open the packages and lay out the components of The Appliance neatly on the floor. Time spent in preparation is never wasted, as I have told Petunia many times. I looked at them and wondered how this assemblage of beams, rods, bars, struts, braces (flanged and unflanged), brackets, tracks, together with the several plastic bags containing cogs, cams, sprockets, grommets, nuts, hinges, bolts, couplings, and coach bolts could ever come together to form a rational and coherent whole.
I could also use the time to install the new cabling for the electric motor. I plumbed in a new socket and switch by the door and ran cable up to the circuit-breaker board in the utility room, where I wired the cable to one of the vacant thirty-two ampere breakers. So far so good.
A nice surprise came the next day. A flat packet arrived, not by Oops but by DHL.
Inside I found, on tearing it open, the promised booklet.
I took it into the kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Tea always helps the cognitive processes, I have found. I opened the booklet. It was in English, or very nearly. On the first page at the head, were the words: TO PRUDENCE!!!
Flushing a little at this familiarity, I read on:
To assembling The Appliance is of the necessity the care total. The Appliance are being of a delicacy instrumentalode. Therefore! For assembly the ingrediments asks for a competency professionnel of the utmost. To not attempting assemble unless required skill possessing of the proprietor.
I began to think I would have done better to stay with the Chinese version.
However, the next page contained a comprehensive and comprehensible list of the ingrediments, and the requisite number thereof. I went down to the basement and began to tick them off, which took me the rest of the day. The plastic bags in particular were intractable and vicious things, apt to explode, and several times I had the floor covered with annoyingly small metal components. At the end, I found I was two transverse track right-angle couplings short, as well as an overhead tracking brace swivel locking pin. The locking pin, I decided I could probably improvise with a two-inch nail, but the transverse track right-angle couplings were irreplaceable. I also had two diagonal cross braces that were four inches longer than the other two. These being of teak, I decided that I could solve this problem by cutting off the excess with my saw. But for the couplings, I realized that I would have to have recourse again to Mr. Patel, who was sympathetic.
“Ah,” he said, “Good day, my dear Mr. Melchett.” I wondered how he knew my name, then realized that of course he had my client number in front of him on his screen.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Patel,” I said. “I’m sorry to disturb you—”
“Disturb?” he said. “Oh but we do not disturb, we involve, we implicate! Such is my job, my dear sir. I am here to be disturbed!”
I explained my problem.
“Oh,” he said, “those villains at the factory. I will be giving them a piece of my mind when I contact them. But fear not, Mr. Melchett, I am ringing immediately Mr. Chakrabahti, the despatch supervisor, who is by way of being a friend of yours truly, and who will spring into action, the idle fellow, once I have inserted a flea into his ear. It is necessary to keep these chaps on the hop, you know. Failing which they will undoubtedly take one’s trousers down. I have already been obliged to administer several sharp reprimands in the matter of Mrs. Patel’s electric Hoover.”