CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN: Clause Confusion

Shirley called me a few days later to ask if there was any news about Marvin and Giselle being approved to buy the #house.  I distinctly remembered telling her that I probably wouldn’t hear anything for about a month. However, I restrained myself, very nicely told her not yet, and reiterated my promise to let her and Jerry know as soon as I knew.

Meanwhile, I was still awaiting the signed order from Judge Grazziano authorizing the #warrant for Charmayne’s #arrest.  I wrote to him and enclosed another copy in case he’d lost the first one. 

Two days later the City Clerk called me.  "Judge Grazziano has looked over your Order, and everything looks fine," she said.  "He just wanted me to tell you that before he can sign it, you have to include a clause about perjury."

This didn’t make any sense whatsoever. "Perjury? What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

"The judge said it’s standard language for Orders of this type," the Clerk replied. "As I said, it's about perjury."

This shed no more light on the matter.  "Can you tell me where to find this language?" I asked.

"I'm looking at an example right now."

"Can you read it to me?"

"No.  We're not allowed to give legal advice."

"Okay. Well, I did leave some room at the bottom of the Order in case the judge wanted to add anything," I said. "I've often seen judges do that with Supreme Court Orders.  Can't Judge Grazziano do that?"

"I don't know about Supreme Court, but it's different in this Court," was the reply.  "Again, it's not our job to give legal advice."

"But I still don't understand." I complained.  “Perjury means to lie under oath. It doesn't make ...”  

A thought suddenly struck me.  "Oh, do you mean purge?  Like the respondent has to have a chance to purge herself of the charges?"

" ‘swat I said.  Perjury."

I gave up.  "Okay, I'll add some language to the Order and resubmit it.  Are you sure everything else is all right?  Even the part about the respondent being arrested?"

"Everything's fine.  It's just that one phrase he needs."

With a slightly lighter heart, I turned to Friendly Lawyer Number Two for advice.  She actually called the Clerk’s Office to try to get some clarification but eventually hung up, none the wiser. When a spot of legal research failed to reveal any type of standard clause such as the Clerk had mentioned, Friendly Lawyer Number Two kindly drafted a few sentences herself. I added them to the Order and resubmitted it to Judge Grazziano for his signature. 

I received the signed Order back from the Judge two weeks later. Charmayne had until August 30th to purge herself of the contempt charge, at which point the Sheriff would be directed to arrest her. 

I served the Order upon Charmayne by unmarked mail, care of her mother, and filed an affidavit of service to that effect with the Clerk’s Office.  By this time, I didn’t even care about the money Charmayne owed me.  Rather, it was the principle of the thing.

My next project was to go after Diane for her unpaid #rent.  Lord, give me strength!

                                                             * * * * * * * *

My contract with Wally was due to expire on August 1st.  By then, the house at 51 Manson Street would have been on the market for four hundred and ninety-seven long days. 

Wally called to ask me if I wanted to renew the listing.

I listened to the obvious lack of enthusiasm in his voice.  “No, let’s drop it," I told him. "My #tenants are actually thinking of buying the house.”

“Oh.”  Wally’s voice perked up a little.  He was undoubtedly relieved to be ridding himself of such a hopeless listing.  “Well, thank you for your business . . .”

“. . . or lack thereof, don’t you mean?”

“Yeah, well . . . No, no, it’s tough being a #landlord.  I hope the deal with your #tenants works out.  If I can be of any assistance in the future, you know where to find me.”

“Sure do. Thanks.”

                                                             * * * * * * * *

That night, I received a phone call from Giselle.

"The bank called," she said in a belligerent tone.  "How come you told us you was in trouble wit your #mortgage?  They say your #loan is up to date and you ain't in no trouble.  Why'd you say dat?"

"Wh-what?”  I stammered, taken aback. Since when did banks divulge such confidential information to a third-party? Even though Giselle was trying to buy the house, it didn’t seem right. 

“I think I told you I would be in trouble if you didn't start paying rent again,” I protested.  “Why'd they call you, anyway?"

"They said we don't earn enough, 'specially with Marvin bein' out on disability. They said if Marvin gets a job, they'll consider us again in six months."

“Shit,” I swore glumly.  " I don't want to wait six months!  I wanna be rid of the house now."

"I know," Giselle said.  "Diane's movin' out.  She's upstairs cleaning. Seein' as we ain't getting the house yet, a friend of mine wants to move in upstairs.  What’s the rent up there?"

"Four seventy-five," I told her. "Same as yours.”

"Okay.  Well, she can only afford four hundred a month to start with ‘til she gets on Social Services. Marvin and I plan to fix up the place an’ do some paintin'.  At least you'll have something coming in for upstairs but you'll have to wait ‘til September to get it."

“Hm,” I said, dubiously.  “You mean like retroactive rent?”

“Yeah. Just until she gets her benefits sorted out, though.  Then she’ll probably pay you more to make up for it.”

"I guess that would be okay.  How's it going to work? She pays you and then you pay me ..."

"Yeah.  She'll give me a hundred dollars each week. Then I'll send you the whole thing at the end of the month."

When I put down the phone, I turned to Mummy and told her the news.  She thought the whole arrangement sounded fishy. 

“You know, I really don't want to wait 'til Marvin's been employed six months,” I said.  “Even then, the mortgage company could turn him down again.  I think I’m going to tell Jerry he can buy the house.  I'm tired of being Mr. Nice Guy."

"Darn right," my mother agreed.

I called Shirley. She was pleased to hear the news.  I told her I would mail a set of forms to Jerry to start working on so that we could get a head start.  They were blank copies of the forms that the bank had sent to Giselle and Marvin.  Meanwhile, I needed Jerry to sign and return the letter I was mailing out to him, so that I could request another #assumption packet from the mortgage company.

To my relief -- albeit a few days late – the rent for August arrived from Giselle.  Her friend, who turned out to be Diane’s sister, moved in upstairs, but I was so busy that I never made it over to Manson Street to get a #lease signed.  I never even found out what her name was.  I guess this was a sign that I just didn’t have the energy to care anymore.  For better or for worse, I had a feeling that this unpleasant phase in my life was finally coming to an end.

Shirley called me mid-August.  "How long are Giselle and Co. gonna stay next door?" she demanded brusquely.

"I don't know," I said.  "I've no plans to evict them. Of course, when Jerry owns the house, he can do what he likes.  Why?"

"I shouldn't really be bothering you with this," Shirley started, apologetically, "but I thought you should know.  Giselle just threatened to kill me."