Another Chance
Copyright© 2014 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 31
"Have fun fixing your boat," she said, and walked up the stairs of the boat house.
"Grace. I said it's a private meeting," I said.
She marched right back down the stairs, over to me and the Indians. She grabbed one of the lawyers by the hand.
"You're a lawyer ... I own half this property ... LEGALLY ... do I have to vacate the premises?"
"How did you know I'm a lawyer?" he asked.
"Briefcase," she said with a pointed finger.
"Ah ... allow me confer with my colleagues," he said.
"Uh uh."
"No?"
"No. You're holding my dollar." And he was ... the sneak had a dollar in her hand ... the hand he was holding.
"Umh."
"Daddy!" Daddy had just shown up with the tobacco. He looked up.
"Yes?"
"He's holding my dollar."
"Retained him, did you?"
Grace beamed. Mr. Briefcase frowned.
"Legally, you do not have to vacate."
"Thank you," she left the dollar in his hand, stuck her tongue out at me and thundered up the boathouse stairs, "Carole? Come up. I'm claiming my half." Carole was still on the boat.
I think I just got screwed ... the boathouse, dock and cabin were all on the west side of the property. My side, as things stood, was lawn ... it needed mowing. I hope Kenny has a cheap lawnmower.
Pretty soon ... real soon ... like right now soon ... there was a huge group of pickups trailing in from North and South, unloading firewood and fancy dressed maidens and driving off to find parking. There were pickups parked around the side streets and overflowing into the Village Green. It was a good thing the turning bridge was gone because Bridge Street ... North Bridge Street was bumper to bumper and door handle to door handle pickups.
A semi load of custom built portable toilets pulled in and parked at the head of the lawn. The trailer was leveled, steps were positioned on both sides and I didn't know a thing except the shitters were open for business.
The power company, MP&L, showed up, an Ottawa wearing a hard hat installed a temp meter and left. I didn't know a thing.
A genuine union electrician, an Odaawa, put in wiring from the meter to the semi so the macerator and fans would work. I had no idea.
One of the lawyers took out a raft of federal, state and local permits and a slap hammer, whacked up weekend use permits everywhere and I didn't know a thing
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