“Uggh, let’s change the subject. Daddy getting his freak on is not a topic I ever thought I would be discussing. So what about you? I haven’t heard you mention any men lately.”
“I haven’t met any worth mentioning lately. I may have to cross to the other side. I see no brothers on the horizon. But you found Derrick. I guess I was wrong about him. Hopefully I’ll meet a great guy just like him.”
“That money talks, I'll not deny, I heard it once: It said, 'Goodbye'.”
Richard Armour
Chapter 3
MONEY BLUES
Carl wiped his debit card on his pants and reinserted it into the ATM machine a third time. He got the same insufficient funds message. This can’t be, he thought, as he looked in the rearview mirror at the line of cars stacking up behind him. He had transferred five hundred dollars to his prepaid credit card in anticipation of this weekend. Yesterday was payday and he paid his phone bill and planned to withdraw the rest for the trip. Stopping at the ATM was the last item on his ‘to do’ list before leaving town.
He left the drive-thru lane, parked, and went inside. When he made it to the front of the line, the teller said the majority of his direct deposit cleared up the overdraft and his balance was less than ninety dollars. He had worked overtime, so this had to be a mistake. Working fifty hours a week, at nine dollars an hour, wasn’t anything to brag about. He used to spend that much in one day on coffee. But he wasn’t complaining. He was just happy to have a job.
Carl was filling in for the assistant manager who was on maternity leave. This weekend, he finally had two consecutive days off and he had reserved two nights at a hotel. He was taking the boys shopping, to the movie, and for pizza. He planned to be in Little Rock by the time they got out of school, and this was putting him behind schedule. He called his ex-wife, Pat, to let her know he was running late, then called his manager, Wayne, to straighten out his pay.
“Let me do a little more digging and call you back,” Wayne said.
Carl lit a cigarette and paced the bank parking lot while waiting for Wayne to call him back. After ten minutes that seemed like an hour, his phone rang. “So did you get it fixed?” Carl said when he answered.
“Your check was for fifty-two hours, but the state garnished half of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are no details, but usually when I see this, it’s for child support. Do you owe back child support?”
“I do, but I’ve been paying. They never said anything about garnishing my check.”
“They don’t warn you because a lot of guys quit working or change jobs to keep from paying. Tough break,” Wayne said. “Let me know if I can do anything.”
After leaving the bank, Carl went home. He threw the overnight bag he had packed on the floor, then went to the back porch and lit a cigarette. He had a job, but was still broke. What good did it do to work if he couldn’t support himself?
“Hey, son,” C.W. said as he opened the screen door. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”
“I’m not going,” Carl said as he hurriedly put the cigarette out. “They took half of my paycheck for back child support.”
“That’s no reason not to go,” C.W. said.
“I can’t afford the hotel or any of the other stuff I planned.”
“So change your plans, but you still need to go. The most important thing is to show up.”
Carl felt two inches tall when he called to tell his sons he wouldn’t be able to spend the night and was just coming on Saturday. He and his father left at dawn with plans to take the boys to breakfast. Then they were going to go to the zoo (free before noon) and to a movie. C.W. gave him two hundred dollars and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Carl hated borrowing money from his father. But he would have hated not keeping his word even more. He didn’t want to disappoint his sons, not that they would be that upset. It had been two years and sometimes he still felt like they were strangers.
Little Rock to Eden was a ninety-minute ride, but today felt like nine hours. “Brinkley, Arkansas is the last place I expected to be in a traffic jam,” Carl said.
“Someone must be getting a kickback based on dragging out the completion date. I haven’t been to Little Rock since before your mama passed and they were working on the road then,” C.W. said.
“Sorry to waste your Saturday, Daddy, spending all day on the highway.”
“Anytime I get to see my grandsons is not a waste. I’m proud of the way you’ve stepped up for those boys. They need to spend time with their father. That’s what’s wrong with a lot of kids today.”
“Most times they seem like they would rather play video games. They would probably be happier if I sent a check and didn’t bother to visit.”
“They’ll appreciate it one day. You just keep doing what you’re doing, son.”
Carl’s first order of business after being released from prison was to visit his sons. Even though their mother had sent him pictures, in his mind they were still his little boys, riding tricycles and mesmerized by cartoons. He was not prepared to find that his oldest son, Carlton was almost looking him eye to eye, and Terrell wasn’t far behind. For his first visit, Raymond and his wife Geneva drove him to Little Rock and they visited the Clinton Library while Carl took the car to see his sons. He easily slipped into a relationship with Terrell, but Carlton wasn’t as easy. Lois had told him that it was just a normal teen phase, but Carl had missed so much time already. He didn’t want to waste more time with attitudes and sullenness.
Carl had slacked off on his visits in the last three months. It was hard to get a weekend off, but his boss told him he was in line to get his own store, so he needed to keep showing high energy. The first step was to get promoted to Assistant Store Manager. Right now, he was doing the job without the extra pay. But he was next in line to be promoted. No longer than eighteen months after that he should have his own store. He was going to need two jobs if the state was going to keep taking his money, but he wasn’t going to worry about that today. Today the Washington men were hanging out.
“Dad, I’m starving,” Terrell said as Carl and C.W. walked in the door.
“Me too. Get dressed and let’s go,” Carl said.
“I’m afraid Terrell’s not going anywhere,” Pat said. “He had a sore throat yesterday and now he has a fever. I’m glad to see his appetite is coming back. But I think he needs to stay in. I’m going to give him some Tylenol and send him to bed.”
“Then I’m not going either,” Carlton said.
“Do you feel bad?” his mother asked.
“No, I just don’t want to go. I never wanted to go in the first place.”
Carl walked over to him and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Would you rather do something else?”
“Granddaddy, I’m glad to see you, but I don’t feel like pretending with him,” Carlton said as he jerked away from Carl. “I go along for Terrell’s sake. But if he’s not going, I’m not either.”
“They have come all the way from Eden. You should—”
“Mom, I wish you’d stop acting like he’s some great man who’s come back from the war. He was a sorry, lying, crackhead. Now he’s out and has a big time job at Burger Barn. Pathetic. And I’m not going.”
“Don’t turn your nose up at honest work, son,” C.W. said.
“Well, I’m not going.”
“Carlton, do not be disrespectful. That’s no way to talk about your father, and you are not going to tell me what you will and won’t do.”
“Fine,” he said and jerked his jacket from the hanger. “You tell us to choose our friends wisely. Too bad you didn’t follow your own advice.”
“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Carl said.
“You can’t come in here and tell me what to do.”
“He is still your father,” Pat said. “I’ve taught you better than this. Where is all this coming from?”
“He’s not my father; he’s your baby’s daddy.
”
His mother raised her hand to slap him, but C.W. grabbed it.
“Let the boy speak his mind,” Carl said. “I’m not condoning him being disrespectful, but after all this time, he has a right to speak his piece.”
“Terrell was a kid. He doesn’t remember, but I do. I remember you telling me we were going to the park or to get pizza and you not showing up. I saw you take money out of mom’s purse and I know you took the envelope I had underneath my mattress. Mom, I heard you crying when he didn’t come home. So I’m sorry if I don’t feel like sitting around with him acting like none of that happened. You treated us like dirt, then just pop back up and expect to be treated like father-of-the-year. That’s not going to work with me. I’ve done okay so far without you. You’re just trying to ease your conscience.”
“I can’t argue with anything you’ve said. All I can do is try to be the best father I can be now and hope one day you’ll feel differently.”
“Whatever,” Carlton said and left the room.
“Don’t feel bad, Daddy,” Terrell said in a raspy whisper. “He’s just mad that he didn’t make the baseball team.”
“Okay, I’ll keep trying. But sounds like you need to go lay back down,” Carl said.
“You drove all the way over here. Let me fix breakfast for you,” Pat said.
“Thanks, at least I’ll get to spend a little more time with Terrell,” Carl said.
“You got some cards?” C.W. asked. “We had a good gin rummy rivalry going last summer. Let’s see what he remembers.”
The game and Tylenol made Terrell sleepy and their card rematch only lasted thirty minutes. Pat’s biscuits, eggs, rice, bacon, and fig preserves stimulated memories that Carl hadn’t thought of for years. She had been a good wife, he just wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if she was just being polite since C.W. was there or if she was actually mellowing, but this was the first relaxed conversation they had had since he got out. He gave her one hundred dollars and she promised to keep working on Carlton.
“I know things didn’t go as planned, but just be patient,” C.W. said as they walked to the car. “Carlton will come around eventually.”
“Most of the guys I was locked up with barely knew their fathers. They grew up acting tough to make up for that void. I vowed that my sons would not carry that burden. I may not be able to give them much, or spend as much time with them as I would like, but one thing they can’t say is that I don’t care about them,” Carl said as he buckled his seatbelt.
Fortunately, the construction was only on the east side of the freeway, so they had a smooth ride back to Eden. “Daddy, I’m going to run into the store a minute and see how things are going,” Carl said as he pulled in the Burger Barn parking lot.
“Carl, I didn’t expect to see you,” Wayne said as Carl walked in the office.
“My youngest son had a fever and needed to stay in, so I cut my visit short. I can work tonight if you need me.”
“We have a little problem,” Wayne said as he closed the door. “I thought you were out of town, so I wasn’t going to bother you until tomorrow.”
“So what’s the problem?” Carl asked.
“I’m just sick about this, but I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Let me go?”
“Believe me, it’s not what I want to do. You’re my best worker. I submitted the paperwork for your promotion and when they did the background check, your felony record came up.”
“I told you about that up front.”
“I know, but an assistant manager has to be able to be bonded, and the insurance company rejected the application.”
“Fine, then don’t promote me.”
“It’s not that simple. Apparently we can hire people with a record, but it can’t be for a financial crime. I knew about the robbery, but you had some bad check convictions before that. Passing bad checks is considered a financial crime.”
“So if I had murdered somebody that would be okay, but since I passed bad checks, I’m a bad risk?”
“Carl, I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s not your fault. Thanks for giving me a chance.” As Carl exited the store, he noticed a new BMW pulled up beside his car. As he got closer, he saw Perry walking away from the car.
“Hey, cuz. I was stopping to get my burger fix and saw Uncle C.W. sitting out here. Can you get me a hook up on a free combo?”
“No, not today. Nice car though.”
“Thanks. I know you’re doing the fast food thing now, but my offer still stands. Give me a call sometime.”
“I just might do that,” Carl said.
CAROLYN
I can’t believe I’ve accumulated so much stuff. When I first moved in the condo, I wondered how I would fill two thousand square feet. Now I’ve got to figure out what to do with all this stuff. I have a keep stack, a discard stack, and a donate stack. But so far, the keep stack dwarfs the other two. Derrick agreed that I can have the larger closet, but I have three closets full of clothes to condense into his one. I won’t need all of my winter coats, so I’ll only keep two and I’ll give Cecelia the lynx. I rarely wear suits since the dress code changed to business casual. But Memphis may be different, so I’d better keep the suits. I definitely won’t be needing my ‘fat’ clothes. I’ve managed to keep off the forty pounds that I lost a few years ago, but they would make stylish maternity clothes. I know pregnancy is considered high risk at my age, but I’m healthy and still have regular periods. Everyone says forty is the new thirty, and Mama always said to claim what you want. The fat clothes go in the keep stack. I’ve got enough books to start a library, but I can’t bear to part with them either.
My realtor says the condo has been getting more hits on the website and we should have lots of traffic at the upcoming open house. I’m glad I followed her advice and lowered the listing price. I’ll clear less profit, but at least I won’t have to worry about being a long distance owner. My job is paying for the move and the moving company will pack everything, but I need to purge first. Derrick’s house is half the size of my condo. But that’s just temporary. As soon as the condo sells, we can move closer to Memphis. I’ve been looking online and we can get a huge house and land for half what I paid for the condo. And the taxes are super low. My commute time will be longer, but more relaxing. Instead of driving through gang-infested neighborhoods and stop and go freeway traffic, I’ll be driving through soybean fields and catfish farms. Derrick’s ride will be a little longer, but he’ll still be able to get anywhere in his territory within forty-five minutes.
In three weeks, I’ll be a wife in more than name only. I applied for a transfer when we got engaged. My boss said he was sorry to lose me, but if I waited six months, I could probably move with a promotion. I felt like a prisoner applying for parole, where the date keeps getting moved back, as the six months turned into nine and now twelve. With the New Year, I decided not to wait for a promotion or a lateral and took a demotion. My pay will be saved for three years and with a lower mortgage and taxes, I’ll actually have more money left after bills and less stress. Management isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and sometimes I feel more like a babysitter than a supervisor. I’ll just do my work and collect my paycheck like everybody else. Plus, there’s Derrick’s salary. There was a time when rising at work meant everything. But I’m ready to move in with my husband. These last few months haven’t been easy, but I’m sure once we’re actually living together things will be better.
Timing has never been my forte, and the ten years that I’ve owned the condo coincided with the peak and bust of the real estate boom. At one point, my equity was over two hundred thousand dollars. Now it’s declined by almost half. But I won’t complain. Cecelia and Michael lived in their house almost twenty years. Rather than celebrating a mortgage burning, they’re losing it to foreclosure. If there ever was a poster child for being overextended, they were it. They bought the best of everything, or at least Cecelia did. They borrowed against their equ
ity for trips, private schools, and furniture. Cecelia’s trips to Lady Luck and Treasure Palace over in East Chicago didn’t help. In most divorces, couples fight over the house. In theirs, neither of them wanted it, or at least could afford it. The last thing they did as a couple was file for bankruptcy. They had filed for divorce first, but their attorneys told them it would be more advantageous to file bankruptcy first. I do feel a little bad. My life is beginning an exciting new chapter, and Cecelia’s is in shambles. But she made the shambles.
A knock on the front door startled me as I taped a box of books. “Why do you have the chain on?” Cecelia asked when I peeked through the crack.
“Just habit,” I said as I unlocked the door. “I forgot you were on your way.”
“Whew. You need to open some windows in here. That smell is strong,” Cecelia said as she turned on the ceiling fan.
“They finished painting the kitchen yesterday but the smell is still strong.”
“You just did your kitchen a couple years ago. Why are you painting again?”
“The realtor said the colors in here were too personal.”
“Well, beige is boring,” Cecelia said.
“That may be true, but apparently beige sells better than blue. I’m also putting hardwood floors in the bedrooms and hall. Everything should be done in time for the open house.”
“That’s crazy. She must be getting a kickback from the painters and the floor guy.”
“I prefer sinking my toes in plush carpet during cold Chicago winters, but she says carpet dates the property and it will sell faster with hardwood floors. I had a few more repairs done like fixing the hole behind the bedroom doorknob and the leaky tub faucet.”
“I guess she knows what she’s talking about. You’re not ready to move yet anyway. I still see way too much stuff here. I thought you were purging your closets,” Cecelia said as she picked through the piles.
“I know. At this rate, I’ll be here until Christmas. For every item I decide to throw or give away, I put six in the keep pile.”
Down Home Blues Page 6