My AC Broke, Part 2

I was going to put the AC back in the wall this morning with the help of Brian. I can’t do it by myself you see. It goes in a cut out in the wall of the dining room about six feet off the floor and it’s heavy. I don’t know how much a 25,000 BTU AC weights, but it took the two of us to get it down yesterday, so I know it’s heavy.

I was so proud of how I fixed the AC. It was filled with all kinds of debris and pieces of rusted metal, and the fan blade kept scrapping against the rusted out shroud. I bent the shroud and cleaned out most of the crap, and got the fan to turned fine. I made a big mess on the dining room table and floor, but it was worth it. At least I didn’t have to buy a new one right away.

Brian was on his way over to his friend Tom’s house this morning to help Tom and his dad put in a sprinkler system. So before he left, I asked him to help me put the AC back.

“Bri, I need your help putting the AC back in the wall before you leave."

“That thing is no good, it's all rusted out. You have to get a new one." he says in a know-it-all voice.

"I fixed it. Let's just put it back in the wall." I said with confidence.

He walks over to where I’m standing, looks down at the AC and says, again in that know-it-all voice, "It's no good, the pan is rusted through. Look, you can see through the bottom."

“I fixed it last night.” I say authoritatively. "See, fan blade and spins fine." I say as I spin the fan confidently.

"Cling, cling, scrape." I spin it again. "Scrape, scrape, cling, cling, scrape." It stops.

" I don't know what happened, it turned fine last night.” I see his eyes roll but he doesn't say anything.

I look behind the coil, move the blade back and forth and see it scraping against the top of the shroud. "Spin the fan blade again." I said as I picked up the coil. He spins it. It just scrapes on the shroud. I look down as I feel more rust falling on my slippers.

“You have to get a new one,” he says. “I know. Look; help me put it back in the wall. I can’t leave it here on the table.”

“Why bother?” he asks. “Let’s just carry it outside”

“OK.”

I walked over and opened the back door and propped open the storm door. I walked back into the dining room and put my hands under one end of the AC. Wordlessly he picked up the other end. Well, we carried the old girl outside, down the ramp for the wheel chair and put her on an old table by the garbage pails. Tomorrows trash day so I suppose we’ll carry it out to the street later tonight when he gets off work.

Now I sweat until I get something else. Either that or I can sit in my bedroom where the small window AC is. No, that’s no good, the computer is in the den. I'll just sweat I suppose.