Don’t Move the Washing Machine!

5090 Park Lane Circle was an attractive two-story house in the city of Liston, Michigan. It was built in 1971 and, at that time, it was the home of Mr. and Mrs. Trevor. Mr. Trevor had carried his new wife over the threshold on the day they moved in. Five years later, however, when he left the house for absolutely the last time, he was alone.

The house was sold to the McArthurs, a large family consisting of Mr. McArthur, Mrs. McArthur, Billy, Jason, Michael and Sharon, who was less than a year old at the time. Over the next twelve years, 5090 Park Lane Circle played host to baseball games, movie marathons, tea parties, slumber parties, pancake breakfasts, spaghetti dinners, Christmas parties and the loss of one of the McArthur boys’ virginity.

It was young Sharon McArthur who first made the discovery. She stumbled upon the strange secret of this house entirely by accident and managed to keep it a secret for over a year before the family moved away, deciding that with half their children grown up and moved out, they no longer needed such a large house. The very last thing she did before vacating the first home she would ever remember was to leave a note for the next residents of 5090 Park Lane Circle.

This proved to be the Benningtons. Having only two children instead of four, one of the bedrooms (Michael’s) became a guest room and another (Billy’s) was converted into an office where Mrs. Bennington would work at times when she was not working at the office provided to her by her employer. Her two daughters, Moira and Angela, failed to understand why their mother needed so many offices nor why she needed to do so much work.

Angela found the note Sharon had left as she was moving her things into her new bedroom. She read it, then ran down the hall to where her big sister was moving her own things into her new bedroom. After both of the girls read it, they decided that moving into their new rooms (which was all they had talked about on the long drive from their old home) could wait and they investigated the claim Sharon McArthur had made in her note.

They managed to keep the secret for six years, during which time their mother was forced to do slightly less work until some time after the birth of her first son, Alex. When their baby brother was old enough, Moira and Angela shared their secret with little Alex and he, too, kept a tight heavy lid on it for quite some time.

It did, however, come out eventually, though not through the carelessness of any of the Bennington children. No, it was just one of those unfortunate happenstances which are nobody’s fault but which still manage to ruin things for everyone. The upshot of this particular happenstance was that the Benningtons soon moved away from 5090 Park Lane Circle, which actually sat empty for four years.

When the new owners did finally take up residence, they found a strange and indecipherable note pinned to the washing machine.

As did the family who moved in after them.

As did Carol and Neil Meriwether.

Stuck to the fridge with a magnetic calendar from their realtor was a sheet of paper with a Post-It stuck to it. The Post-It read:

The previous owners wanted me to show you this. Maybe you can figure out what it means.

The note itself read:

Dear new owners,

Welcome to your new home. We hope you will be as happy here as we were. Before you get too comfortable, though, we have one very important thing to tell you:

Don’t move the washing machine.

Ever. For any reason. Do not move it at all. If it breaks, buy a new one, but find someplace else to put it because you must not ever move the washing machine from its current location. Seriously. I know this sounds insane but, trust me, I’m being totally serious.

Sincerely,

Chris Davis.

Carol and Neil took turns reading the note and trying to figure out what Chris Davis was on about. Finally, and without a word, they both went to the laundry room.

Of course, it was really more of a small atrium between the kitchen and the garage. On one side was a cabinet for storing cleaning supplies, and on the other was the washer and dryer. Both of which looked perfectly normal. A bit old-fashioned, perhaps, but still, broadly-speaking, functional. They did their first load of laundry and both machines worked just fine.

Neither of them understood why the previous owner had been so adamant about not moving the washing machine, but they also saw no reason why they would need to move it. So, they threw away the note and promptly forgot all about it.

Two years passed before the washing machine started giving them trouble. No matter how evenly they tried to balance the load, it rocked back and forth. The clothes came out with undissolved patches of soap powder on them. And, finally, Carol went down to move the laundry and stepped in a puddle of water in her stocking feet. It was leaking.

Neil, completely forgetting the warning from the previous owner, mopped up the water with some old towels, then prepared to move the washer so that he could find the source of the leak. There wasn’t much room in the small atrium to maneuver the large, cumbersome machine, but soon he had pulled one side away from the wall far enough that he could get in and try to fix it.

Almost immediately, a bluish blur swept past Neil and, making a horrible squealing sound, scrabbled into the kitchen. Neil could hear its feet clicking against the linoleum. Then he heard Carol scream and ran into the kitchen after whatever it was.

Carol was standing at the kitchen island, making a sandwich. She had dropped both the jar of mustard and the knife she was using to spread it on the bread when she saw the creature which was now running frantically around the living room still squealing for all it was worth.

It was a pig. Sort of. It was blue, with two long tails instead of one short, curly one, and two horns coming out of its head. It was also clearly terrified.

“What the hell is that?!” Neil said.

“I don’t know!” said Carol, who had calmed down slightly from the initial shock of seeing a blue horned pig in her kitchen.

“What do we do?”

“Catch it!”

“What?”

“Catch it, Neil!”

Neil thought for a moment then ran back into the laundry room. He came back a second later with a white plastic laundry basket which he intended to use as a cage for the pig. He charged at the pig which, of course, simply ran away and hid under the sofa. Then darted out and, knocking into a table and upsetting a lamp, hid behind the recliner. Four times Neil dropped the laundry basket on the floor and four times he missed the pig entirely.

“Here, pig, pig, pig, pig, pig!”

Carol had said this as she tipped over the kitchen garbage can. Food wrappers, banana peels, coffee grounds, Chinese take-out boxes and uneaten scraps of meals spilled onto the floor. And even though it had two long tails and horns and was blue from head to toe, it was still, at heart, a pig. It couldn’t resist the smorgasbord on the kitchen floor and while it was preoccupied with a fragment of leftover egg from breakfast, Neil was able to drop the basket and then sit on it. The pig was trapped.

“We got it!” said Carol.

“Yeah,” panted Neil. “Yeah we did…now what?”

Carol didn’t have an answer for this question but, as it turned out, she didn’t need one.

“Oh, good, you caught her.”

Carol and Neil looked up to find a stranger in their home. He might have passed for a normal, stereotypical farmer, in his overalls, flannel shirt, boots and straw hat, were it not for the undeniable fact that his skin was just as blue as the pig’s.

“Mayzie,” he said to the pig, sternly, “you should be ashamed of yourself. Barging into these nice people’s home and making such a mess. Honestly,” he added to Carol and Neil, “I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble. She’s a good girl most of the time, really. Still, I guess we all get a little worked up from time to time. Well, I’ll take her home now. Er, you mind, Mister?”

It took Neil a moment to realize what the blue farmer was asking. Then he stood up and lifted the laundry basket. The farmer picked up the now docile pig (evidently called “Mayzie”) in his arms. He then walked toward the laundry room, Carol and Neil following him closely.

“Well, so long,” said the farmer with a friendly smile, and he climbed nimbly into the narrow space behind the washing machine. But when Neil looked behind the machine a moment later, there was no sign of him. No sign of anything except the bare wall and the wires and hoses connected to the washing machine.

The next person who moves into 5090 Park Lane Circle, if and when Carol and Neil finally decide to leave, will find the non-functioning washing machine bolted to the wall and impossible to move. They, like Carol and Neil, will have to wash their clothes at the coin laundry a few blocks away. Despite this precaution, however, it is likely they will also find a note left for them by the previous occupants, which will read:

DON’T move the washing machine!