Never hire a builder who claims to be a wizard.

My wife and I have reached a point both personally and professionally where we are ready for a second home. My wife works as a freelance writer and I’m an investment counselor specializing in environmental responsible funds. Until recently, I made a salary that, while enough to pay my share of the bills, didn’t compare to the money being raked in by my less scrupulous colleagues in the world of finance. But in the last few years, with many investors looking for ways to accumulate wealth without destroying the planet, my business has grown.

Meanwhile, our two kids have finished school, began their own careers and started their own families. We still love our home in the suburbs and, while our empty nest seems bigger now, we don’t want to give it up – certainly not at a time when home values are as depressed as they are. On the other hand, why not enjoy some of the fruits of a lifetime of labor? The long and the short of it is that we decided a few months ago to buy some land in the foothills a few miles north of our current suburban digs and build a small place close enough for us to get away to on weekends without burning an obscene amount of fossil fuel to get there.

If we had known it was going to be this hard, we might have reconsidered.

Which brings us to the wizard. I’ll call him Todd. I’m giving him a fake name - not because I’m afraid of being sued but because just typing his name gives me a headache. Besides, using his name might result in me being cursed for all eternity – something to be avoided. So, just in case, I’m going with Todd.

We met Todd through one of my wife’s business associates. Admittedly, while we didn’t have personal knowledge of him, he did come recommended. Todd had built mother-in-law quarters for my wife’s friend and, according to her, had done the job on time and well within budget. We figured that the small dwelling we needed wasn’t much more than mother-in-law quarters so we decided to give Todd a call. He seemed competent enough on the phone so we arranged to meet him the next morning at the building site.

When my wife and I arrived, we were greeted by a man standing perfectly still, eyes closed, dressed in a full length black robe covered in what looked like some sort of intricate medieval style stitching. My wife and I pride ourselves in being open-minded and we both guessed that this odd wardrobe was an expression of an obscure religious belief with which we were not familiar. We got out of the car, introduced ourselves, shook hands, talked about the kind of place we wanted. He seemed to know his stuff and even had a few good suggestions for design elements that would make our little cottage cozier without adding to the cost. Despite Todd’s odd wardrobe, we were impressed and agreed to hire him on the spot.

It was only much later that we realized that Todd had arrived at our first meeting without any visible means of transportation. Ours had been the only car there that morning. To this day, my wife and I have no idea why we didn’t notice this at the time.

Flash forward to one week later. I had been visiting a client about a dozen miles from the site and I decided to swing by to check on the progress being made. I arrived and was surprised to see not a soul about, except for Todd. What was more, there was no sign anyone but Todd had ever been there. No tire tracks, no building materials strewn about. No trash bin or sawdust or tools of the trade. Just Todd, standing inside the framing for our new cottage, wind swirling about him, his eyes closed and his arms raised, a stick of wood in his hand, looking like a cross between Harry Potter and Bob the Builder.

My wife will tell you that sometimes, despite my better judgment, I let my curiosity get the better of me. This was one of those times. I had to know how it was possible that our home had progressed so far so quickly with all the work being done by just one man dressed in a robe and holding a stick. I leapt out of my car and made my way to Todd. As I neared the frame of what was to be the front door, I heard Todd mumbling something in what I took to be Spanish. (Now, I wonder if it wasn’t Latin.) In any case, this only served to pique my curiosity. I stepped through the door frame and suddenly felt a strange tingling sensation. Every hair on my body immediately stood on end. It was then that Todd opened his eyes and noticed my presence.

Todd’s arms dropped to his sides and the stick fell from his hand. Silence. The swirling wind died. The tingling I had felt was gone. Todd’s face drained of color, turning a peculiar shade of gray. We stood for a moment staring at each other, neither of us moving. Then there came a low rumble that seemed to emanate from below the exact spot where we were standing. Todd grabbed my arm and yanked me out through the door frame just as the entire structure collapsed, imploding into a pile of lumber onto the same spot where I had been standing just a moment before.

I decided this was one time when it would be best not to indulge my curious nature. I politely thanked Todd for saving my life and let him know that his services would no longer be required.

As I drove away, I called my wife and told her about the “earthquake” that had flattened our dream cottage right before my eyes. Disappointed by our setback, she took comfort in the knowledge that we had purchased builders insurance (you could by some yourself from here)and were covered for this sort of disaster.

The next day, we found a contractor who wore work clothes, drove a pickup truck and seemed to take a more traditional approach to his work.

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