Page 7 of One Last Chance

“Inflation, man, I can’t help it. What’s the matter, you ain’t got it?”

“I got six hundred total. No, wait…” I stopped and took out the money the bits and pieces of cash that jingled in my pockets. I pulled a couple bills away from the rest of the cash and then started counting. “Five hundred and…ninety dollars and…wait…five cents. Thought I might like to eat sometimes too, so I kept something back,” I said, patting the few dollars I’d skimmed from the pile.

Leroy stroked the thin wisps of tangled hair he thought was a beard and smirked at me. “Well, look here—I might be able to cut you a deal, seeing as we’re old friends and all.”

“Is a tick reallyfriendswith a dog?”

His smirk fell and he scowled. “Man, you’re about to talk yourself out of a room.”

I grinned. “Sorry, go ‘head.”

“What I was gonna say was, this place needs work done on it. Historical society day’s comin’ up, and I can’t afford another damn fine. City said they’d pay the last one since they’re the ones dead set on getting this dump landmarked, but they ain’t done it. You know anything about wiring?”

“I know how to use the internet,” I said blandly.

“Well then use it. I need these wires uncrossed by the end of the month. You do that, I’ll let you stay here for—say…two hundred and fifty?”

He would hold this favor over my head for the rest of my life and I knew it. Camping out in the woods behind Daisy’s place was starting to sound like a viable option—but I really did want that shower. One with soap and a curtain and privacy.

“All right, you got a deal.” I stuck my hand out to shake his crusty paw, then snatched it back at the last second. “But! You have to promise you won’t be pestering me for anything. No tree, no glass, no nothing. I’ve got eyes on me, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure man, I promise. But—you are gonna get back in it though, right?”

I shook his hand and snatched the key, leaving his question unanswered. “Two hundred and fifty dollars a month plus handyman junk. Deal?”

“Deal, deal, but come on man, you are gonna start selling again, aren’t you? Dayle charges too much and his dogs are mean. Look!”

He tugged up his sleeve to show me a bite mark which had clearly needed stitches and antibiotics weeks ago and had gotten neither. I swallowed a gag.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be pissing the dogs off then.”

“I didn’t do nothin’. It was Dayle shorting me, I saw the scale man, I read the same numbers he did and he had me shorted.”

“What eye did you read them with?” I grinned.

Leroy tugged his sleeve down indignantly. “You gon’ answer the question?”

“Are you?”

“Bastard.” Leroy glared down at his paperwork and blinked a few times, trying unsuccessfully to get both eyes facing the same direction. “Well? You got your key, get out of my lobby.”

“You got it, boss.”

I was halfway to the stairs before he started shouting after me.

“You best come find me in the morning! You still got wires to fix!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll fix ‘em.”

314 was a smelly room in the middle of a smelly hall overlooking the smelly alley behind the building. But at least it had a shower and soap. I tossed my crap on the bed and it landed like a rock on springs that had gone and had all their bounce used up. The old clawfoot tub in the bathroom was streaked with rust, but I didn’t need it to hold much water anyway. Plus, though I wasn’t exactly a beggar, I lucked out on the deal Leroy offered me, so I wasn’t going to be all ungrateful and shit. A room was a room was a room and at least this room wasn’t a prison cell with a slab of cement for a bed.

Pipes shrieked and rattled as I turned the water on. The shower head spat a few times, then settled on a slow dribble.

I cringed and clenched my teeth together. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I turned the handle harder and the pipes gurgled and choked, spraying one violent blast before dribbling some more.

“I’m about to get myself electrocuted in this shower, you know,” I pleaded with it. “Give me something!”

It hissed and choked a few more times before hacking up a hunk of limestone, then the dribbling stream transformed into a vicious firehose.

“Thanks,” I said blandly. I might have whooped a little too.

I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes like I was soaking in all the luxury of a Ritz Carlton. Not that this moment right here didn’t feel just as good. Maybe better. I wasn’t working on prison time anymore. Here I was, taking a shower when I wanted and, most importantly, alone and without fear. I stayed in the shower for much longer than I needed to, longer than the warm water decided it wanted to stay with me. I did my best to avoid washing the skin clean off my body, only stepping out when my bones shook with an icy chill.

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