Wayne, my supervisor, was already waiting for me back at the truck. He was an enormous dude in every dimension, but surprisingly nimble when it came to hopping fences and squeezing through underbrush.
He made me think of an orangutan ballet dancer. He certainly had enough red hair on his back and arms.
Wayne was a pain in the butt to work with, always complaining about how I did things and ranting about politics I couldn’t care any less about. Thankfully, the only time we spent together was riding to and from job sites.
“What the fuck took you? You only had five pools to do.”
“Yeah, well … just moving slow today.”
No way was I telling him about Jared or the gator. Wayne was licensed to carry and had a penchant for plugging reptiles with his Glock. I shuddered to think what Jared might be packing.
I set my bucket into the rubber-lined tank in the bed of the truck. The extra guppies were cowering on the shady side. Wayne peeked over my shoulder. “Christ, that water’s low. Let’s get ‘em back before they fry.”
***
I biked home on the ten-speed Trek mom and dad got me for my twelfth birthday. To save on gas, I only took dad’s pickup out on rainy days. The rest of the time, I kept it parked in the garage, loaded with up lawn equipment for the odd jobs I still pulled some evenings. The mosquito control facility was only about ten miles away, back roads pretty much all the way.
Mom’s sun-scoured Camry was parked in the driveway as I rounded the corner onto our street. Odd. She usually worked till six.
I found her sitting on the porch, on the rattan chair. She had a torn envelope in her lap and a letter in her hand.
This was one of those days I could see glimpses of the old woman she was to become, starting to take over her face. Shadows collected in the pits of her eyes and cheeks. An inch of grey showed in the roots of her part.
I parked the bike on the front walk and went up to the bottom of the stoop. “Hey, mom,” I said. “What you doing home so early?”
Her lips widened into a thin smile. “Oh … I had an appointment with Dr. Reddy and ... it was already three ... so I decided to take the afternoon off.”
Mom had just seen Dr. Reddy last Friday. A little flutter of worry shivered through me. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh sure. Least I think so. They did some tests and uh … well, we’ll see.”
“What you got there?” I said, nodding at the letter.
“Oh, it’s just a notice from the bank. We were late on the last payment or two … so this is just kind of a reminder.”
“Let me see.” I plucked it her fingers and looked at it. It was a form with a patch of boiler plate text at the bottom. “Reminder? Holy shit, mom. This is a default notice.”
“Yeah, but … it’s really just a warning.”
“Mom, it says right here: ‘Notice of Default.’ Have you not been paying the mortgage?”
“No. I have. Not always right on time. We’ve got all these other bills to worry about, you know. I‘ve been staggering them; paying some this week, some the next. Sometimes they get in a little late.”
“Mom. You can’t pull that shit. Maybe with the electric or the cable. Not with the mortgage. These banks are just itching for reasons to kick people out. You drive down these streets. Don’t you see all these foreclosed houses?”
“No worries,” she said. “We’ll catch up. Maybe not this week, but the next. I just had to pay off an emergency room bill.”
“Say what? When did you go to the emergency room?” A queasiness spread its roots deep into my innards.
“Oh, a couple weeks ago at work, I had this weak spell. I … couldn’t get up from my desk. They insisted on calling an ambulance.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you, and anyhow, it turned out to be nothing. They didn’t find anything wrong, just that … I’m a little anemic. They sent me home.”
“If it was nothing, why’d you go back to see Dr. Reddy? Twice.”
“Oh, it’s just follow-up. You know them, they like to be thorough. I wish I hadn’t bothered now. These office visits are so expensive. And he only sees me five minutes at a time. He wants me to come back for more tests on Friday. I have half a mind to cancel.”
“Mom, if he thinks you need tests. You’d better go. It’s important.”
“Yeah. I will. Maybe after we catch up with the mortgage.”
“How much are we behind?”
“Well … it’s probably about … four thousand now, counting this month.”
“Three months? We’re three months overdue?”
Mom’s eyes fluttered the way they always do when she’s embarrassed. “I thought we could catch up last month but … you know how time flies when you’re busy.”
“Jesus, mom! You should have told me. I could have helped more with the bills. I’ve been putting away a little extra money here and there. But if I had known—”
“No. That’s your money. You’ll need that for college.”
“What college? I’m not going to college.”
“Not now, but … you should keep that option open. No?”
“What good is college if we don’t have a freaking house?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re not going to foreclose.”
“How about we go ahead and sell dad’s truck?”
Mom sighed and cradled her chin in her palm. “Well, okay. I’m not sure we have to, but … whatever you think is best.”
“I’ll make some posters. We can park it out front. Put a sign in the window.”
“Yeah. You do that.” She got up slowly from the wicker chair. A quick wince deepened her crow’s feet.
Another jolt went through me. “You okay, mom?”
“Yeah. I’m just tired. I think I’d better go and lie down.”
I watched her retreat into the house, my heart drowning in a rising sea of doom. Something twined around my ankles. I threw a suspicious glance at the gnarled roots of the old magnolia tree behind me, but they just sat there inert, like any well-behaved tree, as roots from some farther world latched onto my spine and crept up my vertebrae like an inchworm.
