Chapter 51

During the rest of that week and on into the weekend my plans for the Mill Village changed daily. That was not a bad thing, because it let me research various scenarios and possibilities for the property.

During those same days, I didn't sit home tied to the computer doing research. I raced my trike with the Bobbsy Twins, and I completed furnishing my cabin. I also completed the sale of the cabin and building supplies to Jeremy. We mutually decided that I would retake possession of the trailer. After all I was going back into the building business. Also I already had a really nice trailer hitch on the truck. So his check into my white funds was 59k. Just a tad more than the purchase price of the Mill Village property.

On Saturday Janice Wetherly Allen called. "Miss Seabold, we have a problem," she said.

"I see. So what exactly is your problem?" I asked.

"Would you rather talk about this in person? My sister and I would," she said.

"To be honest with you Janice whatever you tell me, I'm going to need some time to digest it. Why don't you just spit it out and I'll figure out the impact on my plans and then get back with you?" I offered.

"I guess that would be okay with my sister," she said.

"It's going to have to be or you take your property and go to all those other buyers you have waiting for me to turn it down," I said not quite angry, but definitely sarcastic.

"Alright, the land was used as security for a loan. Frankly they will not allow us to subdivide the property," she informed me.

"So you owe back taxes of at least 12k and the loan has to be paid off to free the deed?" I asked.

"That is correct," she replied.

"And the forty odd thousand isn't enough to do both?" I asked.

"No, the only reason we are trying to sell the land is to avoid defaulting on the loan or a tax foreclosure of my dad's property. He would frankly roll over in his grave if we did that," she stated.

"Not to mention it would fuck up your credit for several years," I said. "So how much would it take to get you out from under the cloud?"

"Around 65k but we won't sell it just to pay off the estate," she said. "My sister is adamant that we have to walk away with something."

And I'm adamant. I want just the parcel of land from the village. I don't want the plant. So I am not paying off your debt totally without getting value for my money. If you want to get out from under, I'll buy it all for what the pay off on the loan is and the taxes.

"Make us an offer with something left please," she said.

"I see. I'm going to need some time to see where the tipping point is," I suggested. "I'm not going to just bail you out."

"Of course not, We couldn't expect that," she said almost angrily herself.

"Well thanks for the call, it gives me something to work on during the weekend. I don't suppose you would object to me and my foreman doing a walk through of the property?" I asked.

"No, not at all," she said.

I looked up at the large antique advertising clock and found it just about lunch time. I took a chance and dialed Carlos' number. I didn't dare call the home number, so I left a message. "Carlos give me a call. We need to walk that property in Roaring Gap. They came back with a counter offer for me."

I spoke with Luis just a little later. He was trying to con me into a conference that afternoon. He wanted to go somewhere, I thought. Since we hadn't met in a while, and I had nothing else to do, I agreed.

I made the half hour drive to College Hill. It was more like and hour by the time I counted the drive to the interstate, and the drive from the interstate to his apartment building. That drive was shit, but I didn't really hate it.

"So Rosy, how you doing?" he asked.

"I'm doing fine Luis how about you?" I asked.

"Okay, but it is getting harder to live on my Social Security. I cheated so much on my taxes when I was working, so I only get the minimum amount. That just ain't enough to live, even with the cheap housing," he said. "I would love to start tattooing again, but I can't find a shop willing to have me."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"They think I am too old," he said. "Plus I got all these prison tats."

"Yeah, the thing we do when young, do tend to come around to haunt us later," I said.

"What you know about being old, you white bread bitch," he snapped.

"Easy there Poncho," I said laughing at him.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he said. "I just did a tat for a girl under eighteen last week and the parents complained. The housing authority might ask me to leave, and I got nowhere else to go."

"Did you know she was under eighteen?" I asked.

"The gang banger who brought her to me didn't volunteer, and I didn't ask," Luis replied. "He wanted a playing card tattooed on her ass."

"Let me guess a black and gray queen of spades," I suggested.

"You seen that before?" he asked. I nodded. "Maybe you ain't so white bread after all."

"So tell me what you expect from me?" I asked.

"I don't know what anyone can do. My kid she hardly has enough resources to take care of her kids. I can't live with her," he said.

"Actually it might help both of you to live together. Two incomes could help you both out," I suggested.

"She don 't want me around, and frankly I can stand her boyfriends. We get along better, if there is space between us," he said.

"How about your grand kids?" I asked.

"Them I like to see, but I don't drive anymore. Maria she doesn't have a car. Her boyfriend at the moment won't bring her to visit," he said.

"Well let me know when they schedule the hearing with the housing authority. I will try to come by and be a witness as to your sterling character," I said.

We stopped at the Walmart store where I waited a half hour for him. I was tempted to pay for his groceries, but decided not to diminish his self esteem. I drove him home after I picked up a pizza. I invited myself to his apartment to share the cheese pizza.

"You really don't want to visit my apartment," Luis said.

"I want my pizza, and I want to see what you have on your walls," I said.

"You will be sorry. I live alone, so it is a mess," he said.

"You have never seen my place," I said. When he opened the door, I could smell Cinnamon and flowers. Obviously he used those air fresheners liberally. That smell was better than the odor of dirty socks, which is an old man living alone smell. I have no idea where that image came from, but it was the one I had.

"You started me doing pen and ink drawings to help you and I discovered I enjoyed creating them," he said pointing to the half dozen drawing thumb tacked to the wall of his one large room.

The apartment was a studio apartment for sure. On one wall there was a kitchen, another was a living room and bedroom space, and a third was a bathroom and closet. One wall held the door leading to the outside. It was a fucking people warehouse. It was also depressing.

Luis had virtually no furniture. There was only one straight chair and there was a TV tray complete with the laptop computer pulled close to the bed. I sat in the chair to eat my pizza and drink the coke. It was either that or let Luis brag that he got me into his bed.

"You like living here?" I asked.

"Better than the homeless shelter, which may be my next address," he said.

"Okay stall, stay here as long as you can. Maybe they won't toss you out on your old ass," I said. "Either way run out the clock. If nothing else comes along, maybe I can help some. But Luis, there are no free lunches. You will have to work for everything you get from me."

"Senorita Rose, I began work when I was twelve. It wasn't always legal, but I always worked," he explained.

"I hope what you do for me is going to always be legal, but I can make no promises. I can only promise you can say no to anything," I said.

"That is fair. If I get closer to you, then we can draw together. Maybe one of us be a famous artist," he said.

"I can damn sure tell you that it won't be me," I said.

Back in Farmer's Grove, I tried to decide about the property I was looking to buy. I didn't want to make a decision without giving Carlos a chance to walk me through the houses. I sat at home checking out things on the Internet when a car light turned into the drive. Since I wasn't expecting anyone I went to the door with the shotgun at the ready. The man in fatigues stepped from the black SUV.

"Rose Seabold?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"I have a package for you from a Sylvia Porter. Could I see some ID please?" he asked.

"Sure," I showed the phony driver's license with the Seabold name on it. He nodded and handed me the cardboard box with crap load of tape on it. When he turned to leave, I noticed that he had a rather large lump on his lower back. It looked to be the kind of lump a heavy automatic pistol would make when carried in the waistband of his fatigues. I did not make any comment, since I had a pump shotgun within easy reach.

I opened the box from Porter and found ten bundles of ten thousand dollars each and a note. Here is your finder's fee for the blood diamonds. Live well and practice what you have learned.

Since no one at Church Camp or the Swamp wanted to pay tax, we all understood that the Government was not our friend. Government was a necessary evil.

"Hello Carlos," I said into the phone an hour, or so after I hid the money in the grease pit.

"Hello Senorita Rose, you wanted to go over the village?" he asked.

"Yes, I need a plan of attack before I buy the damn thing," I suggested. "You can give me an idea of what to expect."

"Si Senorita, would you like to do it tomorrow?" he asked.

"Tomorrow would be fine," I replied. "I know you do family things on Sunday, so just call me when you have a couple of hours free.

I read some headline news before I went to bed. For the last few weeks I had been spending a lot of time in bed. I also seemed to be tired all the time. Joan and Jose were present in my dreams again. I sat in a big chair and watched Joan give Jose a first class blowjob. It was really depressing. I couldn't help but think of John while I watched. I have absolutely no idea what it was about the two of them that reminded me of John, but I guess something did.

When I awoke at 6 AM, I felt like I had been asleep only a few minutes. I hated how I felt, even though the towel I carried to bed was soaked.

The trike ride that Sunday morning was just me. Jeremy and Alice were sleeping in. They were most likely hung over, and naked.