The Units
Page 1
The Units
Jamie Mackay
Copyright 2013 Jamie Mackay
This book is entirely fictional.
Any similarities to real events or people are entirely coincidental.
Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Chapter 1
She stepped off the bus into the hot July heat. Coming from Illinois, she had experienced hot, but not like this. She could feel the heat of the sidewalk through the bottoms of her brand-name flip-flops and she could see the heat waves emanating from surrounding cars and buildings.
She must have looked lost and slightly stunned, because the bus driver asked "Are you alright miss?" as she hesitated a little longer than necessary when exiting the bus.
Tatum O'Neill had arrived.
Wainwright, Saskatchewan was a small town, just north of the Idaho border. It claimed itself as a city, but, all told, the population of the town was about 15,000, a far cry from the large urban center Tatum was used to. She had been born and raised in Chicago and enjoyed all the big city had to offer. Each morning started and ended with Starbucks and, in between, she reveled in the hustle and bustle of activity as only a busy metropolis can offer. She had been born and raised on the city streets; took her first subway alone at the ripe old age of ten, and had never wanted anything but. She even made certain that when she chose her place of study, she could maintain her urban lifestyle. Tatum had no experience with small town life; nor was she certain she wanted to.
.
After her long and uncomfortable bus ride, Tatum was not yet ready to work her way toward her new apartment, and still one more place to sit and wait. She grabbed the small travel bag she had packed with her few belongings and set out to explore her new home.
Wainwright was everything she imagined it to be, small, dry and dusty. The bus station was on the west side of town, if in a town this size there could be a west side. She hadn't measured it, but she was fairly certain that she could comfortably walk the perimeter of the town in under an hour.
She didn't know which direction she was intending to go, so she just starting walking along the closest paved street she could see. To her left was the edge of town; not an edge of town like the type she was used to, with the stately houses and perfectly groomed lawns that littered suburbia in Chicago, but a real edge of town.
Given her little experience with things outside of her big city bubble, Tatum had never seen the prairies. She thought they were truly something to see; just a little flatter and a little more barren than anyone could ever have described or imagined. As far as she could see there was nothing. Nothing is a hard thing to imagine until you've seen it, and now she had.
To her right, Tatum saw the semblance of civilization. Not busy streets and loitering tourists like she was used to, but at least there was some evidence of life, almost. Tatum had seem many old people in her time, but her old people were texting on cell phones and drinking lattes while they had their weekly mani/pedi at the higher end boutique estheticians. These old people weren't texting; she would be surprised if cell service was even available. Instead she saw what she supposed to be a husband and wife drinking coffee at a local outdoor eatery. They were both about mid-sixties and were significantly weathered from many, many years in the Saskatchewan heat. The woman was tanned, but barely recognizable through the wrinkles distorting her face. The man was tall and thin, dressed from head-to-toe in work greens; on his head he wore a ball cap, tilted slightly to one side. Both seemed surprised to see her. There weren't too many around these parts that these two didn't know.
Coming toward her Tatum saw a young couple pushing a stroller as they walked their other young one by his hand. Relieved by the sign of younger life, Tatum stopped to observe the family as their young son pulled at his parents to go into the eatery and get ice cream.
As she continued to work her way up the street, the scenery changed little. More old men in John Deere green, a few young families, and several people in-between; every one of them noticing the new face in town. Blocks up from the gas station Tatum had passed by the A&W, a gas station, a hotel with a restaurant, and finally what she assumed to be the local night club.
Ahead of her she only saw condo buildings and a Seven-Eleven, so she decided to turn toward what she presumed to be the center of town. Making note of the liquor store so that she could return later for some red wine, Tatum walked further into the core of her new home town. She passed a 'larger' mall on her left and a small strip mall on her right. In the larger mall, she could see yet another coffee shop, with its requisite old men in tilted hats drinking their afternoon coffee. The small strip mall was more to her liking; it seemed to have some remnants of home, a massage therapist, chiropractor, a cell phone provider and an ethnic restaurant.
At the end of the block, Tatum came across what appeared to be the center of the small town. Main Street was something to behold. She had imagined such places, but only as part of a feel-good movie about small town USA. The type of sappy story where some big city hot shot moves to a sleepy little town and falls in love, never to return to his stressful hectic city life. This has to have been the street where every after-school special in history was filmed, she thought to herself.
Small shops, none of which bared the name of any recognizable franchise, dressed each side of the street. Matching green awnings covered the fronts of the shops, partially protecting the inventory and owners from the overbearing heat. As if part of a cliché, the second shop on the left side was the "Candy Shoppe", and Tatum could see that further up on the right side was an ice cream parlour that still advertised home-made ice cream floats. On each lamp post along the street, the town had placed hanging flower baskets. At the 'four corners', the four way stop on Main Street, were banners proclaiming the Saskatchewan Roughriders as '100 years Champions'.
Chicago was an old city, but Tatum had never taken the time to appreciate the history. Now, she was taking the time to admire the old European architecture evident in the buildings ahead of her. There was a bank that reminded her of the old churches she had often visited at home; "est 1904" she read as she stopped to admire the plaque placed proudly on the side.
Further up the street she passed the old firehouse that now housed a pharmacy, a doctor's office, and a few other office odds and ends. She guessed that the firehouse was about the same age as the bank, but thought it probably had more character than the previous building; fewer stately lions' heads, but more stories in the walls.
Straight ahead of her, actual neon lights caught her eye and thoughts of home crossed her mind. Attracted to the similarity of the city reminder, Tatum picked up her step and moved quickly toward the allure of the glow. She had quickened her step toward the town's only movie theatre, a theatre where a new movie started each Friday. Tatum read "One-ticket Tuesday. Movie, popcorn and pop, 7.50". A far cry from the $23.50 she had paid for the same service at home just a few days before.
Tatum paused in front of the movie theatre; she wanted to enjoy the smell of movie popcorn, something familiar. She knew, given the size of Wainwright, that she could not be far from the apartment she had rented
online. She took out the printed paper she had stuffed in her bag and re-read the rental notice.
"One bedroom apartment for rent, $750.00 per month. Furnished and walking distance from everything. Perfect for student or young single. 310 Preston Ave. Wainwright."
Using the google map she had included for herself as a guide, she found herself somewhere about the middle of the small diagram. Her new apartment, relative to her current position, would be easy to find. She navigated her way two blocks up, and then over about one and a half blocks down Preston Street. In front of her she saw the 'Regency Apartments', a three story building every bit as cute and old as Main Street.
.
The sign just outside the main entrance read "For Manager, ring 101," so Tatum buzzed the button beside the number 101 and the name 'Milligan'.
Milligan turned out to be a man of about sixty with soft brown eyes. He explained that he had taken on the job of Apartment Manager many years previous; his wife had passed away and his kids had long since grown. "I enjoy people" he had said, and his kind demeanor made Tatum think people probably enjoyed him back.
"What brings you to our fair town?" he asked as he turned the key for apartment 203.
"Mostly education, partly adventure", Tatum responded sweetly as she drank in the opportunity to interact with a friendly face.
The new acquaintances continued their friendly banter as Tatum worked her way into the apartment and began inspecting her new digs. In Tatum's newest residence, the sun lit up the room to a sunny shade of yellow. Thankfully, years of experience meant the previous inhabitants had installed sun-shades and film on the windows such that the sun could shine in, letting in the light, without the burning heat. Like everything else she had seen in Wainwright, it wasn't fancy, but it had history. Consistent with the rest of the building, the inside of her apartment looked as if it had been fashioned in the early 1900s. The walls were the most appealing aspect of the apartment, some were simple gyp rock, but several remained the primary brick, with the original ornamental details intact.
Tatum had always fashioned herself as having an eye for design and she was immediately sizing up the room for her soon-to-be new carpeting and paint.
"Nicest corner of the block," Milligan said, interrupting Tatum's internal decorating.
Tatum couldn't argue. The kitchen was toward the back on the unit, leaving the living room to face southeast.
"In Chicago it doesn't much matter what direction your apartment faces," she said, "buildings always in the view".
.
After Milligan left, Tatum continued to explore her new home. It was a one-bedroom suite so there wasn't much left to explore. The bedroom was big enough for a bed, dresser and her computer desk. She wouldn't have an office in this amount of space, so room for her desk was vital. The bathroom turned out to be her favorite space of all. She thought the fixtures must be the originals from nearly a century prior; the sink was a large bowl that sat on top of the counter. She had seen similar sinks in newer homes in Chicago - they were all the rage. The tub was a claw footed unit that reeked of a century before. It needed some work, but she certainly saw potential. She found herself thoughtful and reminiscent for a moment, thinking about how many times the old once again becomes the new.
Tatum looked forward to her new found decorating project with gusto. She was so used to working at a computer that the thought of working with her hands excited her. Plus, simply being in the room made her feel as if she'd taken a step back in time, and she liked that. A step back in time was a feeling she'd have a lot in Wainwright.