Chapter 4

The new apartment building is a beehive of activity. It’s evident the crews are still working, even though it is past six. Abe acknowledges me as he comes out of the main doors pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with trash.

“Hello Mr. Parsons. You are going to be surprised at the difference we’ve made.”

Waiting for him to dump the trash into the dumpster, I follow him into the lobby. He is right, the difference is mind-boggling. Gone are the old worn carpets, they have been removed from the foyer and halls. The exposed marble is shining. The walls have been stripped of numerous layers of wallpaper and paint. More marble is now shimmering. The transformation is unbelievable. I can’t help but wonder why anyone would cover up the marble. Two large, commercial steam cleaners and a large buffing machine have been used for the transformation. They are presently lined up in the main foyer, waiting for their next challenge.

“It took some time to buff the marble due to the layers of dirt and the glued carpet, but it looks outstanding, now that it is finished.”

“Abe, do you still think I made a bad deal when I bought this complex?”

“Well, you took a helluva chance, but I have to admit it has potential.”

“How are you doing with Adam’s apartment?

“You’ll be surprised.”

The difference is short of amazing. The drywall has been installed, taped, plastered and sanded and has the first coat of primer. All the wiring for the fixtures is installed, with pigtails hanging out of the receptacle boxes until the painting is completed. The kitchen and bathroom fixtures are gleaming, the water is turned on. The tile for the kitchen and bathroom floors has been installed. The way it is going, it will be ready by Wednesday.

“What a difference. Adam’s wife must be really pushing him.”

“You don’t want to know. They’ll move in Saturday, even if everything is not complete. You have to see the changes in the basement apartments.”

The bachelor apartments that had been gutted now are rewired and new plumbing has been installed. The two men that Abe hired must really want to move. They are both still working.

“They still want to rent the units, Mr. Parsons. They are hoping you will be able to let them know what rent you will require. Their wives are pushing the hell out of them, like Adam’s. We live in ghetto dumps, where the only time we see the landlord is on the first to collect the rent. This is a way out for all of us. We have never had an opportunity to live in something so new. They want to move as soon as the power and water are connected in those apartments.”

“Even in the midst of construction?”

“Yes, their wives figure if they are here complaining it isn’t done, and then their men will work their asses off to get them off their backs.”

Abe has a big grin on his face, imagining their wives driving them to get the apartments finished. I can only imagine what they are currently living in, if an unfinished apartment is actually better.

“Tell them I’ll try and cost a rent tonight. I should have time. It has been so hectic since I started these projects; it’s hard to find time to do the little things. All the accounting is taking up more and more of my time. I am really glad I found you to take care of all the construction.”

“Not as much as I am. You are a good man, Mr. Parsons. You pay us well and don’t take advantage of us, even if we are poor.”

“I never have and never will. You’ve earned every penny I’ve paid you. I could not have hired a contractor and been as satisfied as I am with you. How is your apartment coming on in the other building?”

“Well, it still needs a lot of work. My wife keeps reminding me that she wants to move today! I can’t wait to get out of the apartment each morning. The apartment I live in is a dump, but not nearly as bad as Adam’s and the other two families. Your garage is in better shape than our buildings.”

“Are they for sale? Maybe I should put an offer on them?”

The look on Abe’s face is priceless. I can tell, he really thinks I am off my rocker.

“Don’t worry Abe; it will be a while before I consider buying another building. The goal is to get these two completed inside and out, and fully rented. There is still a lot of work to be done.”

I can see the relief flood his face. We talk about priorities for tomorrow before I leave for my apartment. Walking across the street, a cold wind causes an involuntary shiver in my body. Winter is on the way. My mailbox is full of correspondence. My answering machine is blinking. There is a message from Bob Lamb, he has something for me. It must be the cash from the wine sale. I had forgotten about that with everything else that is happening.

“Hello Bob, you called?”

“Yes. Will you be home this evening?”

“Yes, as far as I know. I am hoping to clean up a mess of paper work.”

“Good, I will see you later tonight. Everything went great with the wine sale. You’ll be pleased.”

“See you later.”

While eating dinner, I finger through the mail. There are letters from the grants people confirming I’ve been approved, and states the amount of the first advances. It’ll cover all the expenses so far and keep us going for two months. In two months, I hope to have eight apartments ready, plus the two bachelors in the basement. Now is as good time as any to calculate what rent I’ll require to make a few bucks, and carry the mortgage and upkeep. I can only use twenty-three apartments and the two bachelors in the basement, because Adam will be paying me the same rent as he is paying now as part of his superintendent’s agreement. The difference I can use as a write off for security. Once the cash starts to flow for the first two floors, it should be more than enough to carry the building, considering the deal I got from the city in financing.

Out of the twelve apartments in this building, I can only consider eleven as rentals. I haven’t decided what to do about the garage in the back. I am still considering calling Mr. Pain and asking him if he is interested.

During my last cup of coffee, the intercom buzzes. I will have to ask Abe if something can be done about the aggravating sound it produces.

“Yes.”

“Hi Don, its Bob Lamb, can I come up?”

“Certainly.”

Pushing the button, releases the door in the lobby. Waiting at the door, the whirl of the elevator tells me it’s moving. Bob steps out carrying a rather large beat up suitcase. By the smile on his face, I can only assume it is loaded with the cash he mentioned.

“Come on in, Bob. I assume the sale went well?”

“The best, you’re going to love this.”

Once inside I usher Bob to the kitchen, where he deposits the suitcase on the table. Offering him a coffee, he accepts. With both of us sitting, he looks at me and then clicks the dual locks on the suitcase. Lifting the lid, the contents exposed are neatly bundled bills in twenties, fifty’s and hundred dollar dominations. It is the first time I have ever seen this much cash.

“Wow. That is a hellva pile of bills.”

Bob proceeds to dump the suitcase contents on the kitchen table. Bundles of neatly banded bills are in piles. Even with Bob’s 10 percent, I am still left with $324,000.00. Unbelievable!

“I still can’t believe this is happening. Would you like more of the open bottles?”

“Only, if you don’t want them.”

“Shit, I told you I didn’t like wine. Really, I never have and never will. Just the smell of it is revolting to me. Take all you want.”

“Thanks Don. While I’m at that, do you mind if I take two more cases of full ones? I think I have another interested party. At this rate, all that precious wine will be disposed of a lot quicker then I imagined.”

“You’ve gone way beyond my expectations. This pile of cash is a result of your salesmanship.”

Following Bob’s car to the back building, with my horde of cash in shopping bags, I can’t help but notice the wind has picked up with a biting chill. Bob helps himself to two full cases and a case of partials, leaving only three bottles on the bar. He excuses himself and leaves. Unlocking the safe, I stash the new cash with the results of the first case of wine Bob sold. It is quite a nest egg. Securing the safe, I take a wander through the garage area. Looking around the walls reminds me to get a professional appraiser to give me a value on all the signs and tools.

Back at the apartment, the paperwork is endless. I’m going to have to consider getting a bookkeeper. With me working full time, there is no way for me to keep up with thirty-five tenants. Just maintenance alone will be more than enough to keep me busy. It takes nearly an hour to come up with a rent for the bachelor apartments. Typing a short letter to Abe, and then enclosing it with two neatly printed leases in an envelope, I put them on the edge of the table to give to him in the morning.

All this extra work has really cut down on my love life. Shit, for the last month it is zero. The girls have greeted me numerous times in the hall and indicate they are available, but I’ve been too busy with paperwork, or just too exhausted, to enjoy their willing company. This just adds more fuel to the idea of getting a bookkeeper. The problem is who? I need someone I can trust fully, and that is my dilemma. The last person I trusted was my prior girlfriend, who cleaned me out at my last apartment. The only bright side of that unfortunate situation is the changes it made in my life. I would have never made the move to this building, if it hadn’t been for her underhanded thievery.

Finished for the night, I’ve a sudden urge for Chinese. There is a fantastic restaurant on Wonderland Road, but they don’t have delivery, just pick up. Hell, some fresh air won’t kill me. Calling, I order a large variety of food. Any leftovers will be dinner for tomorrow. Driving across the city at this time of night is a pleasure. Traffic is light. The food is waiting for me when I arrive. Returning to the Suburban, a young lady comes towards me.

“Would you like to have a good time?”

Her voice is cracking, from the cold or nervousness, I can’t tell. There is no confidence at all in the words. She is poorly dressed in oversized, floral shapeless slacks, a loose red top and an open summer coat. Her features and coloring tell me she’s Asian. What gets my attention is the fear in her eyes. Her demeanor tells me this isn’t her usual vocation. She or someone has applied her makeup with a trowel, giving her a look of being rode hard and put away wet a few too many times. Her redeeming factor is the ill-fitting clothes can’t cover up her figure. She has a gaunt look on her face, like she hasn’t eaten in a week. Could she be a druggie?

“I am really reasonable, mister.”

Her voice is one of desperation. Then she sobs, tears flowing.

“You really aren’t a hooker, are you?”

Now, the waterworks are really flowing. One of the few things that gets to me is a woman crying, any woman. The other problem is my Chinese food is getting cold.

“When did you eat last?”

Still sobbing, she looks at me, her brown eyes wide with cautious interest. She pulls herself together.

“A real meal? Two days ago, why?”

“Well, my Chinese dinner is getting cold, there is plenty of it. Why don’t you come with me, and tell me all about why you are trying to sell yourself on the street.”

“Well, I am not so sure.”

“What do you mean not sure; you just offered yourself to me not five minutes ago. If I had taken you up on it, we would have had to have gone somewhere, unless you plan on doing it on the street. If you want something to eat, follow me.”

Stark reasoning, and her hunger, overcomes her nervousness. She shuffles along behind me. When I open the passenger door, she looks at me in surprise, but climbs in. Her cheap perfume has me nauseous. Putting the two large, good smelling bags in the back seat, I drive back to the apartment building. The further we travel from the restaurant, the more frightened she looks.

“Don’t worry; I will drive you home after dinner. I am not in the habit of kidnapping would be street walkers.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my apartment.”

She settles into the seat and relishes the heat, while watching me and the streets we are traveling, trying to figure her way home. As we turn into the building, the main garage door opens and I drive into my private enclosed area. The electronics under the dash open the second door as we approach. Again, as a gentleman, I open the door for her, and get another suspicious look. Gathering the food bags, she follows me towards the elevator. Behind us, the garage door closes automatically with a bang, nearly scaring the shit out of her.

In the elevator, the sight of her painted with make-up is ridiculous. Her exposed skin is flawless, with mouth-watering hue. Following me from the elevator to my apartment, through the door to the kitchen, she is looking around at everything.

“If you would like to use the washroom to get rid of that ridiculous makeup, I would really appreciate it. But please hurry, I am hungry and the food is getting cold.”

Now, she is really confused, as I lead her to the large bathroom. Getting her some towels and a facecloth, I leave and close the door behind me. In the kitchen, I cheat and start picking at the food. Hearing the shower, I grab a plate and eat. Twenty minutes later, she appears in one of my robes, squeaky-clean. Her long dark, nearly black hair is damp, but shining. Her face is radiant. She is a petit oriental beauty.

“Grab yourself a plate. I started without you. No questions until after you eat.”

My thoughts of any leftovers fly out the door as the food rapidly disappears. The amount she eats confirms she’s famished. As she’s pounding the last rib out of a container, she notices me watching and then, she blushes in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry for being such a pig. I don’t even know your name to thank you. But, I haven’t had a good meal in days. My job just covers the rent on my apartment. I had to do something to get money for groceries.”

Her speech is very precise and educated. Somewhere in her background, she has had the benefit of a very good education. There is no ghetto accent, just very clear, distinct sentences. Other than banging the container for the last rib, her table manners are impeccable.

“You appear very well educated, how did you get in this situation?”

“I do have a college degree, but no one will give me a chance. Everyone wants experience.”

“And your parents?”

“Dead.”

The look on my face is one of confusion. How could she manage a college degree on her own? Even the so-called reasonable priced colleges are very expensive.

“I won a scholarship for the complete business management course, as long as I achieved a certain mark level. It provided me with the tuition, lodging and an allowance. I worked in the college cafeteria to get money for clothes. Now I have my degree and a job at McDonald’s.”

“What is your major?”

“Economics and Business management, I had the second highest marks in my class.”

“What have you been applying for?”

“Comptroller, something in that line.”

“That is like a bookkeeper, isn’t it?”

The look I get is something else. Like someone told her to eat dirt.

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? I may be able to help.”

“Why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

“Mainly because I can, and there is likely nothing it for me. Let’s start with your name. I am Don Parsons.”

“I’m Zoey Remidky; I came to this country from Thailand with my parents. They wanted to be free of oppression. They had a store down town. Two years ago they were both killed in a blotched holdup. There was only twenty three dollars in the till.”

Sam is crying, as the memories of her parents fill her mind. Offering her some tissue, she gets herself under control.

“At eighteen, the authorities left me to fend for myself. My parents had used all their money to get our family to America and to buy the business. After the funeral expenses, there wasn’t much left from the sale of the store, I’m lucky I had the scholarship.”

This young lady is very intelligent young at twenty and with a degree but no job. Maybe, just maybe, she could be the answer to my predicament.

“I graduated in the spring and have been looking for a position that will use my education ever since, but have found nothing but serving hamburgers, and at a very low pay.”

“You have no family?”

“Only in Thailand, and they can’t help. Everyone is trying to get out.”

“So why did you think becoming a prostitute would be an option?”

“Yesterday, when I got paid, it all went for rent. I don’t get paid again for two weeks. The only thing I have to eat in my apartment is a jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers.”

“If I could help you get a job, would you give up your desire to be a street walker?”

“Don’t tease me. I don’t want to sell my body, but I have very few options besides starving.”

“Tell you what I will do for you ... Do you have access to a telephone?”

“Yes.”

“Here is my number. You call me around six tomorrow and I should know by then. If you get a job in the meantime, that is fine.”

“You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

After dinner, she goes to the bathroom and changes back into her clothes. They still look shitty, but at least her face is clean and her hair just glows. She is still very cautious as we take the elevator to the garage. She doesn’t seem to relax until we are returning the way we came.

“Do you want me to drop you off at the restaurant?”

“That would be great.”

Pulling up to the curb, she has the door open before we come to a full stop. It’s funny, because she could have actually got a john that taken her up on her offer. I have a feeling she is still a virgin and, by now, that part of her life would have been history. She is looking at me from the curb.

“I will call you tomorrow at six.”

“Keep calling until you get me. Sometimes, I have to work late.”

“I will.”

“Here is something to get you some groceries.”

Handing her two hundred dollars rolled tightly, she reluctantly accepts the bills, not able to determine the value. Slowly pulling away from the curb, I watch as she unrolls the wad of four fifties. Her look is one of astonishment, and then she looks towards the Suburban.

On the way home, I use the time to contemplate. Zoey could be the perfect choice. She has the tools to be my bookkeeper. She is alone in the world and a good job offer would help regain her pride. Until I open an office in one of the apartments, she could use the office in the garage. All that is needed are telephone lines and a source of heat. If she likes, she can move into the upstairs bedroom. Converting the lounge area to a kitchen/living room would be a breeze. Abe could have some cupboards installed in a day. The only thing that could be a problem is a sink and drainage. I am sure with four thousand dollars he could obtain all the furniture and appliances needed.

Having myself convinced, the plan will go into motion tomorrow. I will talk to Abe when he picks up the leases in the morning. Just the thought of Zoey taking over the account burden, gives me a lift.

Waking up in the morning, I feel better than I have in months. If all goes well with Sam, I plan on resuming the company of my young teen friends. Nia and Mia have been after me to come and visit. Hell, even my old friend between my legs is acting as if something good is going to happen. The door buzzer goes off. It is Abe.

“Come on up Abe. I need to talk to you.”

With a fresh coffee, I wait for Abe to arrive. The sound of the elevator stopping and the sound of his feet on the carpet tell me he is at the door.

“Abe, I’ve the leases ready and, if they agree, have both sign. The first month’s rent will be due on the first of the month after they move in. It will be my gift to them. I’m sure their wives will put the extra money to good use.”

“You are doing a good thing for them Mr. Parsons. Nobody has ever given any of us a break.”

“Abe, I’m going to need a few things done to the office in the garage.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to hire a bookkeeper, and that will be the office until we get a permanent one here in this building. It will need new lighting fixtures, a telephone and a fax line. Have the heating checked. The furnace is old, and if need be, order a new one. Can you convert the lounge area upstairs to a kitchen/living room combination? The bedroom is fine for now.”

“When do you want all that done?”

“Tomorrow would be great.”

I like doing that to Abe. His looks are priceless.

“Actually, I want you to figure out what it will take to do all of that and let me know tonight. The person I have in mind hasn’t agreed to work for me yet.”

“She will.”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“Just a guess.”

“One more thing...”

“What?”

“Can you do something about that damn buzzer, it is so annoying.”

“I was wondering how long it would take before you wanted it changed. I will install a chime today.”

With the positive feelings I have, the day goes well for a change. Arriving home at four, Abe is waiting for me. He hands me two signed leases. Both will be moving in on the weekend. They managed to get the first coats of paint on the walls today, and the second will be going on tomorrow. All will be done by the weekend. Adam’s apartment is near completions with only a few things to be done. He and his wife will move in as well. All three plan to help each other by renting one truck for Saturday. Abe will be in the doghouse with his wife until he manages to complete his apartment in this building. I have a feeling it will be completed by next Friday.

Later in the evening, Abe meets me, giving me his estimates for the renovations in the back garage. After he leaves, I quickly call Nia and Mia’s apartment. Ruth works late tonight; both girls will be over at seven thirty. Back in the apartment and with a fresh cup of coffee, I review the estimates for the office in the garage. With everything done, it comes in below my imaginary estimate.

Fortunately, the furnace, although old in years, is like new and only needs to be cleaned. Abe is so sure that everything will happen; he has ordered two phone lines. The furnace mechanic will also be onsite tomorrow. The new lights will be installed, plus he will have his two helpers paint the office area with bright colors. The new kitchen, living room and the bedroom will be painted as well. The cupboards and kitchen counter have been ordered for delivery tomorrow. The men will install them when they arrive. Appliances will be installed the next day. Everything should be completed by the weekend. I will ask Abe to have his sister purchase the items to complete the apartment: curtains, some linen for the bed and bathroom and whatever else she deems to make the apartment a home. After Zoey moves in, she can order whatever else she needs. Hell, I am assuming a lot, she hasn’t agreed to anything yet! Promptly at six, the telephone rings.

“Hello, Mr. Parsons?”

“Hello Miss Remidky, you are prompt.”

“First, I want to say thank you for what you did for me last night. You didn’t have to.”

“I could and I did.”

“Did you find something for me?”

“Well, I did, but it is not a comptroller position. It is helping a new company to get started; you would be setting up a complete accounting system from scratch.”

“What type of business?”

“Real estate and rentals.”

There is a pause as she tries to envision what I have just offered. She is likely trying to balance off what she is making now, which is nothing, and what this new job would possible pay.