“I need some protection,” he said out loud. And he knew just what he was going to do.
Nate heard the car before he saw it. He put down his bottle of beer and walked to the front porch just in time to see Anna turn off the engine of her Honda.
“Hey!” Nate said. He felt himself instantly get cheery.
Anna waved back to him with a smile. Then, much to Nate’s surprise, a rear door opened and a second, smaller Anna climbed out.
“Hi there,” Anna replied as she climbed the porch steps. “I was just driving this way and, well, thought I’d come and check on ya.”
“Gee, thanks. And who’s this young lady?”
The miniature Anna glared suspiciously up at him. She was holding a Barbie doll. “I’m Desiree.”
“Oh, so you’re the Des that I’ve heard so much ab—”
“I’m Desiree.”
Anna gave him an embarrassed smile. “She likes her full name to be used when she doesn’t know someone.”
“Uh, okay then, Desiree it is. And how old are you, young lady?”
“Six.”
“That’s great. It’s very nice—”
“What’s your name?” she demanded, her eyes filled with challenge.
“Huh? Oh. I’m Mr. Nate.”
“Do you live here?”
“Yeah. Well, temporarily.”
“This place is a dump.”
“Des!” Anna admonished.
Nate waved it off. “It is, isn’t it? I’m actually trying to fix it up.”
“Well, you better get busy.”
“Yeah, I know. But it will look great when I’m done, I promise.”
Des seemed to accept this. Without another word, she plopped down on the porch to play Barbie.
“Sorry,” Anna said. “My mom couldn’t watch her today, so I’ve had her with me at work.”
“Are you kidding? I’m honored.” Nate studied her face, her eyes, her smile. “It’s great to see you.”
“Thanks.” Anna looked pleased.
In the ensuing awkward silence, a dog growled back in the house.
“What was that?” Anna asked.
“Oh. Um, yeah. That’s, uh, my new home alarm system.”
“Alarm system?”
“Yeah. Here, let me … ah, it’s probably easier to show—come here, boy.”
A Doberman pinscher stepped menacingly into view in the doorway. There was dried slobber on one side of his snout and part of his left ear was missing. A rusted chain was clamped to a spiked collar around his neck.
“This is Adolf,” Nate said.
Grrr, said Adolf.
“Oh, stop that. She’s good people.”
Adolf glared at Anna for a moment before sitting. Even then, he looked like a German soldier ready for battle.
“Um,” Anna said.
Nate realized she was taking several steps back and reaching for Des’s hair. He waved his hands back and forth. “Stop—it’s okay. You don’t have to worry. He looks and sounds mean, but he’s very disciplined.” Like the Wehrmacht.
“Where did Adolf come from?”
“He used to live at the junkyard down by the Exxon station on Route 66.”
Anna dropped her chin at him the way she did.
“I got robbed,” Nate elaborated
“You did?”
“Yeah. Guess it wasn’t such a great idea to take the door off. I’ll probably have to put that back on. Even then, I was thinking what if it wasn’t enough? I’ve been targeted once. It could happen again. So then I thought, what do people do to keep intruders away from their property?”
“They get a dog,” Anna spoke with incredulity. She kept her eyes on Adolf, who was now licking himself.
“They get a dog! Right? So first I went over to Shelby and Tobey’s house to ask where I could buy just a dog in general,” Nate explained. “Of course, it took three seconds to figure out that their definition of a dog is a little different than mine. Anyway, Shelby suggested I hit up this guy Billy who works down at the wrecker service, so I went over there and had a conversation about what I was looking for. And now, lo and behold. Adolf.”
“Puppy,” Des said, pointing with acknowledgment.
Adolf sat appreciatively with his shoulders back.
“And you just walked out with someone else’s dog?” Anna asked.
“Yup,” Nate said. “Billy told me that all I had to do was feed him and he’d adopt me like another parent.”
“What does he eat?”
“People.”
Anna took another involuntary step back.
Nate reached out to stop her. “Kidding. Kidding. Well, probably. But it’s been ribeyes so far. Just ribeyes.”
Anna was clearly confused by this chain of events. “Nate, I don’t … how did you get robbed? There’s nothing here but junk. What happened?”
Nate scratched his forehead with his free hand. “All my tools got stolen.”
“What?” Anna said.
“Yep. Every single one. Completely disappeared. I usually keep them all out on a tarp in the dining room, so whoever came in here while I was away had an easy time scooping them all up.”
“Oh, Nate, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Nate stared at his feet for a moment before looking back up at Anna. She was so pretty. Big brown eyes, the sun hitting her bob-cut hair just the right way. The look of concern on her face was so mesmerizing that it took Nate a moment to realize she was speaking to him.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I said, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it’s going to set me back a bit. I’m going to have to replace everything. And honestly?” Nate took a deep breath. “I need to find more budget for the renovation, too. I think I’m pretty good at ripping stuff out, but I’ve started listing out the things that have to go back in. It’s a lot. I was originally thinking I’d just need to buy drywall and some paint, but …” His voice trailed off.
Des was walking her Barbie up the banister.
“Nate, sweetie,” Anna said. “Can I offer you a suggestion?”
“Sure.” She called me sweetie.
“Do you remember my friend Matt?”
“The redneck?”
“We’re all rednecks out here, Nate. Matt was the contractor.”
“Right. Yeah, I remember him.”
“Why don’t you hire him?”
Nate took a final swig of his beer and put the bottle down. “I don’t know, Anna. Contractors cost even more money.”
“I think it would be money well spent. Look, Nate. I don’t have any financial incentive in this aside from a possible sale at the end. And we both know the odds are it’s going to be small. So I hope you believe me that I’m just trying to give you some sound advice based on working with a lot of buyers and sellers over the years. You have a lot of work to do. A lot. The demo is just the first step, Nate. You’ve got to actually get it finished. I know you inherited this house, so you don’t have the normal month-to-month carrying costs like a mortgage or anything. But every day that goes by is a day that you could be doing something else. There’s a real cost associated with that, Nate. It’s worth the investment upfront to be done with it all sooner and not drag it out.”
Nate stood still, considering.
“Nate, Matt is good.”
“He is?”
“Yes. Though he is a bit OCD. But that’s probably exactly what you want for something like this.”
There was a loud coughing noise. Nate turned to see Adolf making a weird choking noise before he spit up what looked like his tube of TFE paste. So that’s where that went.
Maybe he should consider putting a contractor to work.
“I don’t know, Anna. I mean, regardless, I need to buy new tools. I really should use them.”
“Matt comes with tools, too.”
“Yeah, but I borrowed mine from my dad, so I need to return them eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Yeah.”
Anna thought for a moment. “My cousin is an engineer, and he told me one time that every project has three attributes: cheap, fast, and good. But you only get to pick two. Tell me, Nate, what’s most important to you? Do you want to get a good price for this house?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m doing this.”
“Then it needs to be done well.”
“I understand. But I’m not employed right now, which means I need to keep my budget modest. And, I have a lot of time.”
“But do you?” Anna asked. “How much is your time really worth? How much could you be making if you got your next job that much sooner?”
Nate thought about that for a moment. Project managers in the technology industry made pretty decent cash, of which he was getting none right now.
“My point,” Anna said, finishing her argument, “is that you have an opportunity to maximize your income here. If your goal is to flip the house, then capturing that profit as quickly as possible and getting back to work sooner is the way to go. Paying a little bit more to a qualified contractor to get the job done faster, with quality, is money that will be easily recouped in the sale price. On the other hand, if you cheap it out with amateur hour, it will show in the end and I won’t be able to get you as much money for your effort.”
Nate frowned. This was different than the worldview under which he had been operating. He had mentally prepared himself to live frugally while undertaking this project, and the idea of shelling out bucks for work he still believed he could do himself just seemed wasteful. So what if he was slow? He was just warming up.
And he didn’t mind not working in tech. Truth be told, it was sort of a vacation. No broken code. No upset customers. No angry developers. No erratic bosses. There was only the sunshine, the peace, and the quiet. And the heat. The bugs. The draft. The humidity. The loneliness. A Doberman who ate tubes of sealant. The heat. And more heat. It was hot here.
Maybe being done and moving on wasn’t such a bad idea.
Adolf coughed from the corner. Nate glanced over again to see the big dog licking his private parts. Please, God, please don’t let Adolf accidentally seal his own hydraulics.
“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded at last. “If I said yes, how would this work?”
Act 3
The Contractor
10
So as it turned out, Matt appeared very thorough.
He scoured the house with sleeves rolled up and work boots on. He didn’t hesitate to get dirty and lay on his belly to look behind plumbing or into the cavities left behind from the demo. Occasionally Matt would pause to clean his glasses with a soft rag and take notes. More frequently, he would pause to spit his dip spit into a Gatorade bottle.
At lunch time, Matt changed it up.
“So, Nate. Can you describe for me what your vision is for how you want this house to end up?”
“Sure,” Nate said. He immediately proceeded to have a complete mind blank.
“Any time you’re ready.”
“Yeah, I—yeah.” Nate thought hard.
“Do you know what you want?”
“Well, yeah. I want it to be beautiful.”
Matt gazed at him over the top of his glasses. “That leaves a lot open to interpretation.”
“I suppose it does,” Nate said with growing dejection.
The truth was, Nate didn’t know how to articulate what it was that he envisioned. He had a rosy but vague idea of a restored Victorian-style home on display in the pages of a magazine. But to call that idea a design was as big of a stretch as one could imagine. His ideas were as well-formed as a first grader who wanted to be a firefighter when he grew up.
Matt apparently sensed what was going on and came to the rescue. “Ok, let’s start simple. See these here floors? What do you want to do with them?”
The floors were dull and scuffed. Nate stared downward with what he was sure was a dumb expression on his face.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Matt asked.
“Absolutely.”
“This is good quality hardwood. Instead of replacing anything, we can clean the boards, strip ‘em down, and refinish them. Maybe a nice, dark color that shines up real nice and gives contrast against the baseboards. It will look real good and save you a bunch of money ripping anything out.”
Nate liked the sound of saving a bunch of money. “Okay. Let’s do that.”
“Now, how about them walls?” Matt asked. “I’m going to have to rebuild some of the areas where you’ve been ‘working’, but once that’s all done, they’re gonna need some fresh paint. What color are you thinking?”
“Umm,” Nate said, desperately trying to imagine the magazine spread. “Lavender?”
Matt took on an impassive expression. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Nate smiled warily, unsure as to whether he had made the right choice.
“Can I make another suggestion?” Matt offered.
“Of course.”
“Your goal is to sell this sucker when you’re done, right?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you think a more neutral tone, like an off-white, would appeal to the masses? Lavender is pretty, but it puts the buyer in the role of having to imagine their own tastes on top of whatever you decide to present.”
Nate thought for a moment and had to agree. “Off-white.”
“Right. Or something very pale, like a real light gray or yellow. I’ll see what’s on sale when we get to that point.”
“I like the sound of that,” Nate said. “Get supplies on sale and save some money.”
“Well,” Matt said, taking a deep breath. “That brings us to the bad news.”
Nate gulped. “What do you mean?”
“Two parts. First of all, I’m going to have to undo some of what you already did. Those bathrooms need to be put back together—”
“But I want new bathrooms,” Nate interrupted. The words started tumbling out. “That’s part of what sells the house. We need to have new tile, a new sink, a big shower, new lights, framed mirror, stuff that makes it feel like a resort. That’s why I’m moving the sinks to the opposite wall—”
Matt gave him that look again.
“You got five grand in your budget for each shitter?”
Five thousand dollars? That much? “Nothing I saw at Home Depot cost anywhere in that range,” Nate protested.
“Individually, no. Together, it adds up.”
“But—”
“And did you factor in labor?”
“But I’m going to be doing it.”
“Then why am I here?” Matt asked.
“To do the design?”
Matt shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way, my friend. I got a family to feed. If I’m going to do the design, for free, then I expect to get the work, not for free.”
Nate stared uncomfortably at the big redneck in his overalls. “That’s an awful lot for labor.”
“Not for what you’re asking for,” Matt replied. “It’s actually pretty cheap. Let me ask you something. Have you ever moved a water pipe before?”
Well, he had smashed one with a sledgehammer, but that hadn’t worked out so well. “No.”
“You realize that’s what you’ll have to do the way you dreamed up each of these bathrooms, right?”
“Yes,” Nate lied.
“Ever welded copper before?”
“No.”
“Ever installed cement board before?”
“No.”
“Do you even know what cement board is?”
Long pause, panic, panic, lie lie lie … “Yes.”
“What is it?” Matt said.
“It’s a board. Made out of cement. Duh.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Where do you use it?”
“In …” more panic, panic, panic “… the …” pick-a-room-quick-any-room “bathroom.”
Matt peered intently at him.
Nate smiled in
triumph at his guess.
“Why?” asked Matt.
The smile slid off.
Matt let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, Nate. I’m here to help you. You don’t know how to do this stuff. So you need someone—me—to tell you what decisions not to make. You want a nice looking bathroom? We can put in a nice pedestal sink, some wainscot, a new tile floor, paint, and we’re done. No new shower—keep the claw foot tub. Polish up a fitting here or there. Don’t move the water pipes. You can make everything look awesome and not blow your budget because you don’t understand the impact of these choices. That’s how we can get through this and not cost you five grand per room.”
Nate wanted to argue. It had been difficult enough to dream up the nebulous beauty of a half-realized design in his head, but having to give it up to the talons of reality, well, sucked. It just plain sucked.
Matt was cleaning his glasses with his little cloth again. “And you’re going to need to save that money, Nate, because this brings us to part two of the bad news.”
“Oh? And what’s that.”
“I been down in the crawlspace underneath the house, and you got termites.”
The blood drained from Nate’s face. “That can’t be. I can’t have termites.”
Matt arched an eyebrow. “Sure you can. This is Louisiana, not the Sahara Desert. Down on the Bayou. Swamp central.”
“Shit,” said Nate.
“Yup. Shit. Now, I can kill them with chemicals, which will be pretty awesome. But I still got to assess the damage they’ve done and rebuild some of the house structure—unless you want a new basement in the middle of the night when everything collapses.”
“No. I don’t want that.”
“Didn’t think so.”
This was a disaster. What happened to the dream of a flip and some easy money? Nate wondered if Edna had any inkling of the condition her home was in. Was she somehow punishing him for that one episode in the kitchen?
Nate started pacing back and forth.
“How much is all of this going to cost?”
Matt spit into his Gatorade bottle. “Don’t know yet. Probably not cheap. If the termites were just eating up wall studs, it probably wouldn’t be as big of a deal. But this is a crawlspace house, and the structural members holding up the floor and all that stuff is what’s been damaged. I don’t wanna guess yet without a better look. Plan on a number followed by four zeroes.”
The House That Jack Built: A Humorous Haunted House Fiasco Page 7