Page 57 of You and Me, For Real
Griffin
What’s something you wish you had done as a kid?
Ashton
Learn to ride a bike, skate, fly a kite.
Griffin
Seriously? Fly a kite?
Ashton
You asked.
Griffin
We’ve got to remedy some of these soon!
Ashton
What about you?
Griffin
Own a dog.
Griffin
So thank you for making my childhood dream come true.
Come Thursday evening, I feel lighter than air. Just one more day until I get to see Griffin again, but as I pull up to my apartment near seven, and my stomach plummets. There’s caution tape surrounding the building. A work truck with the name GreenWorks printed on the side is parked in front of Judith’s apartment. Several men wearing protective masks, carry various tools inside.
I spy my landlord, Miguel, and leap out of the car and rush toward him. “What’s going on?” My heart slams against my ribcage and worry gnaws at my stomach over Judith and my dogs.
Miguel places his hands on his hips, surveying the commotion. “It’s a mess, a real mess. That’s what it is.” He shakes his head. “There’s no telling what this catastrophe is going to cost me.”
“Where’s Judith? Is she okay? She was taken by ambulance over a week ago. I haven’t been able to reach her or her son.”
“She’s sick. That’s how I found out about this.” He gestures toward her apartment. “Her doctors suspect mold. I called for a team to access the apartment and sure enough, black mold. It’s infiltrated the walls.”
“Black mold?” I whisper. “Isn’t that kind of deadly?”
He nods and turns his attention to me. “Can be. I called you. Left a message. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to evacuate this building until the mold is removed.”
“Evacuate? Like right now?”
“Unfortunately. It’s a health hazard. I’d offer another unit, but I’m full. I can comp you for your stay somewhere, but it’ll take time to get you reimbursed. I’m hoping this team will work around the clock to fix this, but there’s no telling how long it will take before it’s repaired. Could be a week, could be months. They won’t know until they dig into the wall and see how extensive the damage is.” He rubs his balding head. “At this point, I’m just praying I won’t have to tear the whole thing down.”
“As in the whole building?”
This can’t be happening.
“These experts,” he says and points to the truck, “they say it happens sometimes.”
I’m gonna be sick.
What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go? I searched for months for this place. It was the cheapest I could find within a decent distance of the shelter, and with a patch of grass—as meager as it is.
