CHAPTER THIRTY: Indoor Incendiaries

YEAR THREE

House Account:  $2,123.00

Mortgage: $549.38

Saturday, July 2nd.  Wim and my mother had driven to JFK airport to pick up Frederica, who was coming from South Africa to stay for a few months.  She was bringing with her a five-year-old boy called Shane.  His mother, Frederica’s neighbor, had recently died, and Frederica had adopted Shane.   

While I hung out at home waiting for them to arrive, Shirley phoned.

"I thought you'd like to know that Mamie moved out last night.  She's gone to Florida."

I was taken aback. "Oh. Nice of her to tell me!  Thanks, Shirley."

Frederica arrived later that afternoon.  We took one look at each other and burst into tears.  It was so lovely to see her again.  

Shane was adorable.  He was small and blond with a spiky haircut and an impish little face.  I soon discovered that his mischievous looks matched his nature, but for now he was being a perfect little gentleman, meeting his auntie for the first time.  Andrea and Bronwyn took to their cute little cousin at once and dragged him off to explore the house and grounds.

I gave Frederica a humongous hug.  “How are you, Frederica?”

She hugged me back just as hard.  “I’m fine.  Doing much better since I had the op a year ago.”

The operation she was speaking of was major bypass surgery to take some strain off of her failing liver.  She had been suffering from chronic active hepatitis since she was 10 years old.  For some reason her immune system mistakenly identified her liver as an enemy and was constantly trying to destroy it. 

I looked doubtfully at her puffy calves and ankles.

“Yeah, that’s one side effect,” Frederica admitted.  “Water retention.  I have to take water pills all the time and get vitamin K shots regularly.  I’ve got three sizes of clothes because I never know when I’m going to be thin or fat from the Cortisone.  I don’t need to take my medicine all the time, now, though.  Just when I feel I need to.”

“So, do you think you could be growing out of the hepatitis at last?”

“Maybe.  I’m in my mid twenties, so I’m a bit old, but it could happen.”

“I’ve got so much news to tell you,” I told Frederica as she unpacked her case.  “Like about this house I own?  Mummy says I’m a slumlord, but it’s my tenants who are the slummy ones.  They’re so bad, it’s hard not to look like I’m a #slumlord.  It’s horrible, Frederica.  Don’t ever become a #landlord, no matter how much they pay you! 

"Anyway, what about you?  How’s your business going and stuff?  What are you up to these days?   We’ve got to catch up, you know?  It’s been a few years.” 

“My screen printing business is pretty slow, right now.  It’s hard to keep it going when so many times I just don’t have the energy, or I’m sick with something.  I’m really looking forward to having a good rest for three months, lying out on the deck in my thong, helping Mummy  . . . .”

Mummy came in just them. “Come sit down in the living room, Ferge.  I’ll rub your legs for you, and we can talk about my summer camp.”  She cared for some nine- to twelve-year olds during the Summer vacation and was looking forward to planning arts and crafts and theatrical skits with Frederica.  

Andrea and Bronwyn with Shane in tow, gathered round eagerly to hear what activities were in store for them.  Auntie Frederica was a favorite of theirs.  It was she who had instituted the candy tin during her last visit nearly three years ago.

Over dinner, I told Wim the news about Mamie moving out.  He wasn’t too surprised.  We'd suspected that Mamie might be doing a moonlight flit one of these days. At least I'd already received July's rent from Social Services.  Now I had the rest of the month to fix up the place for August.

Wim and I went over to Schemmerhorn the next day to inspect the #apartment.  The first thing we saw was that Mamie had never replaced the upstairs front door.  Bryan had kicked it in during one of his rages.  Next we noticed that the gas heater in the dining room was disconnected.  What’s more, the ceilings in that room and the adjoining living room - which last time I looked had been painted white - were now a delightful shade of sooty black!

Giselle came upstairs at that moment and informed me that there had been a recent fire in the apartment.  The electric company had disconnected the gas heater and the pipe that went up from it into the wall.  When something major happens like that, you'd think the tenant would let the landlord know about it, wouldn't you?

As if the lounge and dining room ceilings weren’t bad enough, the ceiling of the little room leading off of the lounge was even worse.  It was so black that no white showed at all.  Cobwebs hung ominously everywhere, coated in grease.  All we could think of was that Bryan and Mamie must have indulged in indoor barbecues – and greasy ones, at that!  It was the only way the ceiling could have got that way.

A walk through the rest of the apartment revealed more #damage.  All in all, there were three broken windows, three broken doors, a broken kitchen cabinet drawer and door, two missing light fixtures, two missing smoke alarms, missing switch plate, missing towel rack, broken toilet tank lid, and filthy walls throughout.  

Not surprisingly, there were no door keys in sight.

I turned slowly on my heel, surveying the damage with dismay. 

Wim bustled about taking notes. "You'd better get Catcher in here quickly, so I can start work."

I nodded and gloomily descended the stairs to the porch.  

Shirley was waiting there, wringing her hands and looking apologetic.

"I'm really sorry 'bout this, Stacy.  I mean, especially since I was the one who recommended Bryan and Mamie in the first place.  She didn't used to be like this, believe me.  She just got into a bad crowd, lately."

"You weren't to know," I told her.  "She was a good tenant for the most part but she still owes me a month's rent from last September, plus some from October."

Shirley looked surprised.  "You knew she got a check for fourteen thousand dollars in February, didn't you?"

"No!" I exclaimed.  "From where?"

"I don't know.  All I know is, she got this check and we cashed it at our bank for her 'cause she didn't have a checking account."

"Oh," I pondered.  "Maybe it was from Bryan.  She did take him to Court for beating her up."

"All's I know is, Mamie went through that money in a matter of weeks."

"And I saw none of it!  She told me in February she'd pay me the money she owed me as soon as she got her tax refund, and that's the last I heard from her.  If I'd known she'd just got fourteen thousand dollars, I'd have been a bit more persistent." 

I trudged back upstairs to clean the stove top and kitchen sink while Wim pottered about.

On Monday, I called Mr. Catcher.

"Hi," he said, remembering me.  "Sure, I'd be glad to come over to the apartment.  Hmm, let's see        . . ."  

I could hear him paging through his diary.

Unfortunately, he was only free in a couple of weeks. Wim wouldn't be able to start work on #repairs until after that.  

However, I could still advertise and show people around the apartment.  

I called the Schemmerhorn Gazette and put an ad in the paper, keeping the #rent at $475.00.