Page 35 of Zimyra

“It’s a little complicated. The post is cemented into the ground. And it’s bent. We straightened it out, but it’s not in good enough shape to be salvaged.”

“It’s metal. How hard could it be?”

He flashes a frown, and then says, “That would require welding. I’m not a welder, and neither is Mauricio. Plus, I know how you like things to look around here and nothing says cheap like a bent, patched-up pole.”

“Hmm…yeah, you’re right.”

“If you want it replaced, you’ll need to hire a contractor since it would involve tools we don’t have.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Uh…it would probably be best to get a handicap sign painted on the cement.”

“Is that something you and Mauricio can handle?”

“Yeah. We’ll take care of it.”

“Good. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” He glances at his watch and says, “I would like to have lunch with you to discuss some things.”

“Say what?”

“I took the liberty of ordering some food. We can sit in the clubhouse if that’s convenient for you.”

“I usually like getting away from the office on my break, but if you already ordered food, I suppose I can compromise this once.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

He turns away from me and heads back to the maintenance shed.

I walk back to my office with all kinds of thoughts as to why he wants to meet with me. What is there to talk about? Is he going to quit? He’s going to quit! I know he is. What else could it be? I’ve never had a maintenance person request a meeting with me, and I actually liked the last crew. I still don’t know why they quit and that bothers me.

I wash my hands. Food is delivered shortly thereafter. I have no idea what Axel ordered, but it smells good. Axel comes inside shortly after and asks, “Do you mind if I use the bathroom to clean up a little?”

“Go right ahead.”

I proceed with taking the bag to the clubhouse. I usually don’t use it for a breakroom—don’t use it for anything but community events. Today, it’s being used for an impromptu meeting between me andhim.

I don’t know what he wants to discuss, but I’ma keep an open mind since I’m playing nice.

He steps inside with clean hands and begins taking food out of the bag. “So, how has your day been so far?” he asks me.

“It’s been okay, I suppose. What about you?”

“Busy.” He flashes a smile – one that looks fake to me because just as easily as he flashed it, he snatched it back like it never existed.

I open the tray of food he placed in front of me to see that it’s a Hibachi chicken plate. I haven’t had Hibachi in so long, my tongue can already taste the flavor. He ordered the same for himself.

“Okay, I don’t like being kept in suspense. What is this about?”

“It’s about us getting along. I don’t like this back and forth between us. I thought we called a truce, but you still seem to hate me.”

“Hateis a strong word, Mr. Jennings.”

“Stop calling me that.”

I glare at him as he eats. “Why?”

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