Chapter 41

In the parking lot of the Senior Towers Gus said, "So you coming up or not?"

"Gus, I am flattered, but I just met you," I answered.

"If you can't trust an old Marine, who can you trust?" he asked with a charming smile.

"Okay, but I reserve the right to leave at any time."

"Fair enough. At least you can relax nobody will have any idea where to look for you." he said.

"Well this van stands out like a Siamese cat at a dog show," I commented.

"Ah, but there are over two hundred units here; I doubt that even the bad boys from the east will kill everyone in every apartment just for you."

"Good point," I admitted.

"Yes none of us is as important as we think we are. We are also not as unique as we are told as children."

"I do suppose that is true. Alright Gunny let's have a picnic."

In the utilitarian, but very clean lobby, I had noted the sign that welcomed me to the Evergreen Towers. The ride up on the elevator was surprising in that it smelled of pine cleaner not urine. I had been inside Government housing projects before and found them atrocious. I had never been inside a Senior's Tower though. I knew they existed in almost every town of any real size in the whole country.

"I have got to tell you Gus this is the cleanest Government housing I have ever seen."

"That's because we run the place, not the housing authority. We have a homeowner's type association, and they make the rules. They have committees that oversee everything. Yeah the government boys can veto anything, it is still their rice bowl, but they don't bother as long as there are no complaints. Some of us are ex military, but most came from places that weren't real safe or clean. Everyone appreciates that there are no thugs in the lobby here."

"So what is the police response time to trouble?" I asked knowing that it was the key to public housing crime.

"Longer than our security staff."

"Oh really?"

"Some retired guys can still swing a Louisville Slugger. Most of the security guys say, they don't mind spending a few nights in lockup, if it keeps their friends safe. Besides for the most part even thugs have grandmas."

"Not a lot worth stealing, and not much call for crack in here I would think?"

"Exactly, worst thing here are the resident drunks and we help them to their rooms and take their car keys."

"Sounds like a place I wouldn't mind living."

"You most likely have too much money in the bank. You pretty much have to have nothing to live here."

"Careful there Gunny, you are going to lose points for not being rich."

"Max, I figure if you wanted rich, you wouldn't be eating at the Dog House. You are not going to find rich men hanging out in there."

"Okay, you do have a point."

When the Gunny opened the door, I thought I was back in the Air Force. His apartment looked a lot like my room in the NCO barracks. He had somehow gotten hold of a military issue bunk. It was complete with steel pipe frame and open wire springs. The mattress on top did look a lot thicker than anyone I ever had in a barracks situation. He even had a throw and big ass pillow that made it look like a sofa, sorta. The difference was that at the head and foot of the bed, instead of being Air Force gray, the pipes were painted gold. The throw over the mattress was a blanket looking affair with the Marine Corp symbol in the center.

There was a small desk, with an equally small desktop style computer on the top. The computer shared the space with various desk type items. A coffee cup with the marine emblem embossed on it and filled with pens and pencils graced one corner. There was the graduation picture of a young woman at the rear corner.

The coffee table was nothing more than a wooden type footlocker. It was the type found at the foot of every bunk in a typical barracks. The Gunny had done a pretty good job of reproducing a typical NCO's room, but with a lot more class. There were nice full length drapes on the windows and a very clean looking chrome lap on the desk. The combination bedroom and living room of the studio apartment was small enough that it really didn't need any other furniture.

An opening on the right side of the room led to a very small kitchen and tiny dining area. The kitchen counter boasted the smallest microwave oven I had ever seen, and of course a generic Mr. Coffee pot

On the left side of the living room another opening lead into a storage area, with a small compact bathroom at one end. The two rooms on the left were the same size as the kitchen and dining room, so there was plenty of storage. Some of it in drawers and some in hanging bars. The Gunny didn't have it filled by any means, but he did have what seemed like enough clothes for an average man. At least it seemed that way to me. Of course someone like Jen could never fit her clothes into the space.

"Nice place you have Gunny, do you have a coke in the little frig or is it all beer."

"I gave up drinking the same night I gave up driving," he said almost sadly. It was more matter of fact I suppose, but it good have been a sad expression for him. "But to answer your question, I have coke."

I took the caned coke and my bag of dogs to his tiny dining table. I was just about to plop my ass down when he spoke.

"Oh I can do better than that, he said. He pulled the string on the full length drapes at the end of the living room. I had expected a window behind the drapes, but instead there was a door that led onto a tiny balcony. It was just large enough for a small but comfortable deacon's bench. The coke cans had to sit on the concrete floor of the balcony, but there was an interesting view of Main street to make it worthwhile. We ate hot dogs and watched the cars go by.