Chapter 2: Settling In

June 6, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“Breakfast is ready,” Aunt Wendy called through my door on Saturday morning.

“Be right there,” I replied.

I got out of bed and pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, then went out to breakfast. I sat down across from Lisa who rolled her eyes. I ignored her, and picked up the front section of the Chicago Tribune. I’d never been much of a newspaper reader, but then again, not much ever happened in Goshen, Ohio. But this was a new city, a big city, and I felt I needed to get a feel for what was going on. Aunt Wendy set a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me.

“Thanks,” I replied, lowering the paper. “Isn’t Uncle Alec eating with us?”

“He’s out of the house on Saturdays before 7:20am, just like weekdays,” Aunt Wendy replied. “Sunday is the only day he doesn’t work. What did you plan to do today?”

“I really hadn’t thought about it,” I said. “I suppose I’ll explore the neighborhood and maybe take the L into the Loop and explore there, too.”

“Lisa could show you around, if you wanted.”

“Moooommmm!” she protested. “I’m hanging out with Marie and Niki!”

“It’s OK, Aunt Wendy,” I said. “I’ll explore on my own. I don’t think the princess here wants anything to do with me.”

“You got THAT right,” Lisa spat.

I just smiled at her and raised the newspaper again, holding it with one hand and eating with the other. I was an only child, but my friend Will back home had a younger sister and she had always acted like a bitch toward him. He’d gotten even, after a fashion, by popping the cherries of her three closest friends then telling her about it. He’d given me the juicy details and I’d hung on every word.

It wasn’t that I was a virgin, but my ‘luck’ with girls was limited to my next-door neighbor Bev, and perhaps a dozen very enjoyable encounters. In grade school, we’d played doctor a few times, but then stopped when we nearly got caught. Nothing more happened until the Summer I turned seventeen and she turned sixteen when she’d teased me about playing doctor, and one thing had led to another, and we’d taken each other’s virginities several times one hot Summer night.

We never dated, mostly because I didn’t have the money to take her out, but we’d been irregular lovers for most of my Senior year, getting together every five or six weeks to reenact that warm Summer night. The last time had been the night before I’d left for Chicago, when after we’d screwed ourselves silly, she told me she was going to start going with a guy in her class, and planned to go to UCLA for college the following year.

That hadn’t really bothered me, though I was certainly going to miss burying myself in her warm, wet, and willing pussy. We’d been lucky — we hadn’t used a rubber the first night, though we did for a time, but then she eventually went on the Pill. Now, a year later, I thanked my lucky stars that she hadn’t gotten pregnant, and resolved to never make that mistake again.

Of course, to actually make that mistake again, I’d need to meet girls who didn’t work for Spurgeon. Despite Paul’s plan to chat up some of the younger secretaries, I didn’t want to do anything that would mess up my chances of advancement. If that meant living like a monk for a few months, or longer, I would.

But before I worried about that, I needed to decide where I wanted to live. My finances would be limited for a time, which meant I wasn’t going to have a nice place, but Uncle Alec had told me there were lots of apartments near the universities which were very affordable. I’d looked at a map, talked with Paul, Nick, and Mr. Nelson and decided that the best options were around Greek Town, not too far from the University of Illinois Circle Campus, or in Hyde Park near the University of Chicago.

I’d mapped out a plan to make the most efficient use of the L, check out both places, but also stopping at First Chicago Bank to open an account. Uncle Alec had explained that Illinois had very restrictive banking laws, and had only recently allowed ‘branch banking’ and as such, suggested one of the big Chicago banks which had hours on Saturday morning.

I finished my breakfast, and after thanking Aunt Wendy, which caused Lisa to roll her eyes again, I went to brush my teeth, then changed into jeans and Cincinnati Reds t-shirt, put on my Reds cap, and headed out the door, my first paycheck tucked safely in my pocket. I’d been surprised that payday was Friday, and that we’d been paid for the entire week, but Mr. Nelson had said adjustments would made on following paychecks if our hours turned up short.

I walked to the L and paid my fare. I made my way up the stairs to the platform and waited for the train which arrived about five minutes later. I boarded, found a seat, and watched the city slip by as we headed into the Loop. When I got off the train, I walked to Clark and Madison, and found the entrance to First Chicago. Thirty minutes later I walked out with a temporary checkbook and a small sheaf of papers for my newly established account.

I walked from the bank to the building where Spurgeon Capital was located to judge the distance and felt I could just make it to and from the Bank at lunch on Fridays to deposit my check. The only possible problem might come from one of the bridges over the Chicago River being up, but there were enough places to cross the river that I could work around it by walking north on Clark and then crossing the river at the first opportunity.

I retraced my steps along Michigan Avenue, crossing the bridge over the river, then turning right on Wacker Drive. I followed it along the river until I came to Jackson Boulevard, and turned right, heading west. I walked past Chicago Union Station, and a few blocks later, crossed over the Kennedy Expressway into Greek Town. A few blocks further, across Halsted Street, I turned south on Racine, and crossed the Eisenhower Expressway. Once across, I found apartment buildings and houses, some of which had ‘Apartment for Rent’ signs in the front yard.

Acting on Uncle Alec’s advice, I knocked on several doors saying I was interested in an apartment for August 1st, the usual time college students moved in. I inquired about the rent and estimated utilities for each place, making notes in a small notebook I carried in my back pocket. All the apartment buildings were out, at least for a year, as I couldn’t afford even a studio apartment and have any money left over at the end of a month once utilities, food, and clothing were factored in.

The houses with apartments were a bit better, though nothing I felt I could afford. I decided to try one last place, on Polk Street, between Aberdeen and May. I knocked on the door and a man I guessed to be in his forties opened it.

“Hi, I’m Jonathan Kane. I’m looking for an apartment for August 1st and I saw your sign.”

“Nick Andros. Pleased to meet you. Student?”

I shook my head, “I just moved here from Ohio and I’m living with my Aunt and Uncle until I find a place. I work for a company on North Michigan Avenue.”

“You have a pay stub to prove that?”

I nodded, “Yes, I do. Can you tell me how much the rent will be?”

“How about I show you first, so you know what you’re getting?”

“Sure.”

He came out onto the porch and I followed him behind the house to a stand-alone garage. We climbed a set of outside stairs, Mr. Andros unlocked the door, and we stepped inside.

“This is it,” he said. “Comes furnished.”

I scanned the large open room which had a hardwood floor partially covered with throw rugs. On one side was the kitchen area — a stove and oven, a refrigerator, and a sink. In the far corner of the room was a door which I could see led into a bathroom with a tub. The bed was in the opposite corner from the bathroom, and there was a folding screen of some kind which gave it some separation from the rest of the room which contained a sofa and loveseat, a coffee table, a TV stand, plus a round table with four chairs. There were two ceiling fans, and a pair of standing lamps. Simple, but efficient.

“Heat’s forced hot water; air conditioning is that window unit there. No drugs. No loud parties or roommates, but I don’t mind occasional overnight guests, if you know what I mean. If you have a regular girl and she stays too much, we have to talk about the rent.”

“I don’t. And the rules are OK. What’s the rent?”

“$250 a month; one month’s security; rent paid on the 25th of the month for the next month. If you don’t pay, you’re out. No grace period. If the temperature is above 80° ten days in a month, it’s an extra $20 for electricity for the air conditioning. That usually only happens three months a year.”

I hadn’t been to Hyde Park, but Uncle Alec had warned me that unless I got lucky and found an available furnished studio, I wouldn’t be able to afford an apartment building, and even then, I was sure it would be a stretch. There were a lot of homeowners who rented to students, but all things considered, I could walk to and from work from this place, or take the L on a cold or rainy day, simply by walking back to the Eisenhower and boarding a train. If I could take the L only half the days, I’d save close to $300 a year, and probably more.

I considered my options and made a snap decision.

“I’ll take it,” I said. “I can pay you the deposit today, if you want.”

“That would make me happy. Do you have anyone in Chicago who can vouch for you? You seem like a good kid, but I’d rather play it safe.”

“My Uncle Alec is a real estate investor. He’ll vouch for me.”

“If you have an Uncle who’s a real estate investor why are you looking at an apartment like this?”

“I want to take care of myself, not depend on someone else. He got me the job, and that’s enough.”

“Where you from? Big city?”

“Goshen, Ohio. It’s a fair bit east of Cincinnati. Farmland, mostly.”

“This must be quite the change, then.”

“It’s the place to make my fortune,” I replied. “But I want to do it on my own terms.”

“Can’t argue with that. Shall we shake on the deal?”

I extended my hand and we shook. I followed him out of the apartment, down the steps, and then into the main house. We sat down at the kitchen table and he began filling out a lease. I provided information as he asked for it, and when he finished, we both signed. I’d kept enough cash for this eventuality, so I took out my wallet and extracted five $50 bills and handed them to him.

“Jonathan, this is my wife Irene,” Mr. Andros said as a pretty blonde woman came into the kitchen. “Irene, this is our new renter.”

I stood and said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Andros.”

“It’s nice to meet a polite young man,” she replied.

“Mom would never let me get away with being impolite,” I replied. “Stand when a lady enters the room, only speak when spoken to, that kind of thing.”

“Where are you from?”

“Southern Ohio. A small town called Goshen which is east of Cincinnati.”

“Student?”

I shook my head, “No, Ma’am. I came to Chicago to work. Maybe I’ll go to college someday.”

She laughed softly, “Sit back down, Mister Kane!”

“You can call me Jonathan.”

“Then you should call us Nick and Irene. We’re all adults here.”

“Yes, Ma’ ... Irene.”

“I think we’re all set, Jonathan,” Mr. Andros said. “If you want to move in before August 1st, let me know. We’ll work out a pro-rated rent. Just give me a week to paint and get the place cleaned. The last renter just moved out last Saturday.”

The place had looked spotless, but I wasn’t going to complain.

“It’ll need to be August 1st,” I said. “I want to make sure I have enough savings to cover any emergencies, or whatever.”

“Do you have a car? Parking is pretty limited around here.”

“No, I don’t. And I probably won’t think about one for at least a year. For now, I’ll manage with the L and buses.”

“OK. If you do end up getting a car, we’ll sort something out.”

“Thanks.”

A car was a pipe dream at the moment, as the rent alone was going to consume a full third of my take-home pay. Once I factored in food, clothes, and other essentials like toothpaste, I didn’t have enough money to make a car payment, even if I thought that was a good idea. On the other hand, a bike would be great except during the coldest months, and was something I’d easily be able to afford.

“I just need to see your pay stub, and on Monday I’ll call your uncle, if that’s OK.”

“Sure.”

I pulled the envelope with the pay stub from my back pocket and handed it over. Nick checked it, copied down the company name and address, then handed it back. We were done, we stood and shook hands. I said ‘goodbye’ to Irene, and then Nick walked me to the front door where we shook again. I went out onto the porch, then down the steps to the sidewalk.

“New boarder?” a pretty blonde girl, who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, and who was standing on the sidewalk, asked.

“Starting in August, yes.”

“Liliana, but everyone calls me Lily.”

“Jonathan,” I replied. “You live here?”

“Yes. You going to UICC?”

I shook my head, “No. I’m working. Are you in college?”

She laughed, “I wish. I’ll be a Senior when school starts again.”

“Where? I mean, not that I know much about Chicago.”

“Saint Casimir High School. It’s a Catholic girls’ school on Whipple Street. It’s less than five miles from here. Are you new to Chicago?”

“Yes.”

“I guess I’ll see a lot of you, then.”

I nodded, “I guess so.”

She seemed MUCH more pleasant than my cousin Lisa, and that was a plus. Lily was also a total fox, which I suspected Lisa might grow into, but at twelve, that was the last thing I’d say about her. Not to mention the whole ‘cousin’ thing. I was from Ohio, not West Virginia, so that wasn’t something I’d consider, even if Lisa wasn’t being a bitch.

“See you in August, Jonathan,” she said with a smile.

“See you then,” I replied.

I turned and walked west, retracing my steps. I decided to check out the neighborhood and pulled a small map from my back pocket. I headed for the UICC campus and checked it out. I was sure that during the school year, this would be a great place to meet girls. I walked around campus, then walked back north, finding several small parks, a karate school with a Japanese name, a dance studio, a few small fast-food places, a butcher shop, and a grocery store.

I made my way back to the Loop and decided to skip the trip to Hyde Park and instead spend some time in the Loop. Before Chicago, I’d only been to Cincinnati, so the big city was all new to me. I walked around for about an hour, and realized I was hungry. I remembered seeing a place in Greek Town that I wanted to check out, so I walked west to Halsted and into Mr. Greek Gyros.

I saw a number of Greek flags and some religious art depicting Jesus and Mary. And a huge menu that included everything from hamburgers to hot dogs to fried chicken and a whole bunch of apparently Greek dishes I’d never heard of before.

“What can I get you?” the counterman asked.

“What’s a ‘gyro’?” I asked.

He smiled, “It’s ‘gyro’ with the g sounding like a ‘y’. It’s beef in a pita, you know, flat bread. Usually served with onions, tomatoes, and tzatziki sauce. It comes with fries and a medium drink.”

“I’ve never had one,” I said.

“Tell you what, I’ll make it for you, and if you don’t like it, I’ll make you a hamburger at no extra cost? Deal?”

“Deal,” I replied.

I handed over the $3.45 for the meal and watched as he sliced beef from a rotisserie, put it in a pita, added onions, tomatoes, and sauce. He added a generous helping of fries, and then asked what I wanted to drink. I told him ‘Coke’ and he filled a cup with ice and soda, then put everything on a tray.

“I think you’ll like this, but let me know if you don’t,” he said.

I took the tray and sat down and examined the sandwich he’d made. It was unlike anything I’d seen, but smelled good. I took a bite and immediately fell in love with the sauce, never having tasted anything like it.

“This is awesome!” I exclaimed between bites.

“I thought you’d like it,” he grinned.

I devoured the sandwich, and the fries, which were also excellent, washing down each mouthful with some of the Coke. At $3.45, this meal cost a good portion of an hour’s take-home pay, and so it would have to be a treat. But it was a treat I’d want to have again, soon. When I finished, I brought my tray to the counter and handed it back.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be back!”

“Great! Glad you enjoyed it.”

I walked out of the restaurant and took stock. Across the street was something called Athenian Candle Company which advertised Orthodox Christian items, and just past it was a Greek restaurant — the sit-down kind. Past that was a grocery store and another restaurant. On the opposite side of the street were a series of Greek restaurants. Someday, I’d have the funds to eat in all of them. But not today, or any day soon.