Payback?”
She shook her head. “It’s consequences, Tom. You made a choice without us. You had to do what you thought was right. I’m doing the same thing.”
He left the next day. All he took with him were some clothes, a few boxes of books and CDs, a TV and an entertainment center, his recliner, some photo albums, a laptop computer, a mini‐fridge, and all the guest‐room furniture.
He put it all into the storage unit and himself into the hotel across the street, which was another storage unit, a place to shelve himself until his life started again.
And now it finally had.
Wade had all the furniture he needed for the apartment for now. He still had to buy dishes, cutlery, and cookware, a kitchen table, and a couch, but he was in no hurry. Paper plates, plastic silverware, and fast food would do fine for the time being.
He hired some day laborers who were milling around outside the storage facility with their own truck. They loaded his stuff in less than an hour and then followed him to his new home.
As he drove, Wade kept his eye on the rearview mirror, worried that his movers would turn around when they realized where he was heading, but they stuck with him. They unloaded his belongings into the upstairs apartment with amazing speed, eager to get their money and flee.
He couldn’t blame them.
While they unloaded his stuff, he taped some newspapers to the window to give himself some privacy until he could hang some drapes.
The movers dropped his box spring and mattress in the center of the living room and dumped most of his stuff around the bed. Wade hadn’t given any thought to interior design yet, anyway.
He walked them back to their truck and paid them off. As the truck drove away, he noticed that his move in had attracted a crowd across the street. They all seemed stunned by the sight. An alien invasion would have drawn fewer people and less incredulity.
A couple of the guys who’d trashed his car were among the lookie‐loos, but Timo wasn’t one of them. His bashed‐up Escalade was long gone, of course. It was a symbol of a humiliating defeat that Timo’s crew couldn’t let stand for all to see.
Guthrie stood outside his restaurant, leaning on his oxygen tank and smoking a cigarette. His daughter, Mandy, walked over to Wade just as the movers sped off. She was carrying a Styrofoam takeout box and a brown paper bag.
“I’ve seen a lot of people move out of this neighborhood,” Mandy said to Wade. “But I’ve never seen anybody foolish enough to move in.”
“I was won over by the warm welcome that I got yesterday,” Wade said.
“You’re crazier than I thought,” she said. “Are you moving into that upstairs apartment?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“The last person who lived there died, you know.”
“Of old age?” he asked.
“Lead poisoning,” she replied.
“From the paint?”
“From the bullets,” she said. “You really must have a death wish.”
“The wish isn’t mine,” he said.
“You’re just doing your best to grant it for somebody else,” she said and handed him the box and the bag. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I like your wish better,” he said.
“Then you’re going to pack up and get out?”
“I’m going be extra cautious and vigilant,” he said, then hefted the box. “What’s this?”
“Fry bread dusted with sugar, some maple syrup, and a cup of coffee. A housewarming gift. Or my contribution to your wake. I guess it depends on how the day goes.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I might stop by for dinner, if I’m still around by then.”
“You do that. Be sure to look both ways before crossing the street,” she said and turned back to her restaurant. He watched her walk away and remembered the advice that his dad had given to the waitress at the roadhouse. His father probably would have given the same advice to Mandy.
He went back inside, took a quick sip of coffee, and tore off a piece of the hot fry bread to eat on his way upstairs
She shook her head. “It’s consequences, Tom. You made a choice without us. You had to do what you thought was right. I’m doing the same thing.”
He left the next day. All he took with him were some clothes, a few boxes of books and CDs, a TV and an entertainment center, his recliner, some photo albums, a laptop computer, a mini‐fridge, and all the guest‐room furniture.
He put it all into the storage unit and himself into the hotel across the street, which was another storage unit, a place to shelve himself until his life started again.
And now it finally had.
Wade had all the furniture he needed for the apartment for now. He still had to buy dishes, cutlery, and cookware, a kitchen table, and a couch, but he was in no hurry. Paper plates, plastic silverware, and fast food would do fine for the time being.
He hired some day laborers who were milling around outside the storage facility with their own truck. They loaded his stuff in less than an hour and then followed him to his new home.
As he drove, Wade kept his eye on the rearview mirror, worried that his movers would turn around when they realized where he was heading, but they stuck with him. They unloaded his belongings into the upstairs apartment with amazing speed, eager to get their money and flee.
He couldn’t blame them.
While they unloaded his stuff, he taped some newspapers to the window to give himself some privacy until he could hang some drapes.
The movers dropped his box spring and mattress in the center of the living room and dumped most of his stuff around the bed. Wade hadn’t given any thought to interior design yet, anyway.
He walked them back to their truck and paid them off. As the truck drove away, he noticed that his move in had attracted a crowd across the street. They all seemed stunned by the sight. An alien invasion would have drawn fewer people and less incredulity.
A couple of the guys who’d trashed his car were among the lookie‐loos, but Timo wasn’t one of them. His bashed‐up Escalade was long gone, of course. It was a symbol of a humiliating defeat that Timo’s crew couldn’t let stand for all to see.
Guthrie stood outside his restaurant, leaning on his oxygen tank and smoking a cigarette. His daughter, Mandy, walked over to Wade just as the movers sped off. She was carrying a Styrofoam takeout box and a brown paper bag.
“I’ve seen a lot of people move out of this neighborhood,” Mandy said to Wade. “But I’ve never seen anybody foolish enough to move in.”
“I was won over by the warm welcome that I got yesterday,” Wade said.
“You’re crazier than I thought,” she said. “Are you moving into that upstairs apartment?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“The last person who lived there died, you know.”
“Of old age?” he asked.
“Lead poisoning,” she replied.
“From the paint?”
“From the bullets,” she said. “You really must have a death wish.”
“The wish isn’t mine,” he said.
“You’re just doing your best to grant it for somebody else,” she said and handed him the box and the bag. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I like your wish better,” he said.
“Then you’re going to pack up and get out?”
“I’m going be extra cautious and vigilant,” he said, then hefted the box. “What’s this?”
“Fry bread dusted with sugar, some maple syrup, and a cup of coffee. A housewarming gift. Or my contribution to your wake. I guess it depends on how the day goes.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I might stop by for dinner, if I’m still around by then.”
“You do that. Be sure to look both ways before crossing the street,” she said and turned back to her restaurant. He watched her walk away and remembered the advice that his dad had given to the waitress at the roadhouse. His father probably would have given the same advice to Mandy.
He went back inside, took a quick sip of coffee, and tore off a piece of the hot fry bread to eat on his way upstairs
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