Chapter One

“It’s awful,” Sara stated flatly. The expanse of rough walls and filthy, stained floor surrounded her.

“It’s cheap,” Larry replied shortly. He walked across the room, ignoring the junk and dirt, seeing simply a place to live.

Sara didn’t move; as if the decay and trash might envelop her if she did. “And too large,” she continued. Even if it could be cleaned up what would they do with a big old two story house in the middle of a noisy, dilapidated neighborhood? “It looks like the last tenants took half the walls with them.”

Larry didn’t answer. He disappeared through a door at the far end of the room. Sara heard water running, doors being opened, drawers shut. She reluctantly crossed the room to follow him into the kitchen.

“Running water, the stove works, there’s heat. It’ll do,” Larry stated. He walked back into the main room and turned right to go up the worn wooden stairs. He was surprised to find them sturdy.

Sara looked around the old kitchen. Well used would be an understatement. But it was more comfortable than that large room behind her. She blocked out the smells of the previous tenants. She didn’t want them inside her; she worked on breathing without smelling.

Upstairs they found four empty rooms, one large, two medium, one smaller, and a bathroom. Empty except for more trash. Sara stepped inside the smaller one. There was a window with a view of the alley. She looked down to see a wiry calico cat streak across the space between the building and a pile of boxes. The action was at odds with the dead feel of the afternoon world.

Larry came into the room. “It’s what we can afford, Sara. It’s close enough to that job that I can walk. And it’s available.”

“I can see why,” she answered. That was the current state of their conversations. Short, to the point, no extras. She couldn’t drag up any more words. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t depressed, wasn’t anything. She just didn’t have any other words inside her. She heard Larry walk down the hall and heard the flush of the toilet.

“Plumbing works,” he told her as they both came into the hall. “There’s another bathroom down below, beside the stairs.”

They went back down to look at the bathroom, the room beside it, and another beside that one. All of them were much smaller than the oversized main room in front. Strange arrangement Sara thought. But she didn’t say anything. They would rent it. She guessed she could live anywhere. Didn’t really matter.

The front door banged open and a boy walked in. He was maybe twelve or thirteen. He stood there with a tone of muted aggression on his face.

“Knock before you come in next time,” Larry told him in a matter of fact tone. He opened the door to take another look at the bathroom. Sara watched the boy’s face as he stopped what he had been about to say. She was never easy around young people and didn’t know what to do with this one. But people never bothered Larry.

Neither the boy nor Sara said anything. Larry turned back to the room, walked across and held out his hand. “My name’s Larry. This is Sara,” he gestured towards her. She nodded.

The boy hesitated a moment. Then he took Larry’s hand and said, “I’m Ramon. My ma and I live a couple of places down.” He gestured vaguely towards the door. He looked at Sara, then back at Larry. “You moving in?” he asked bluntly.

“Yep,” Larry answered him just as shortly.

Yes, Sara thought, they’d move in. There wasn’t anything else to say about it. At one time she and Larry would have had a long discussion over pizza and wine before making such a decision. Playing with the idea, the possibilities. But since Larry had lost his job, then their friend Aron had died and the landlord had kicked them out; then she lost the baby . . . ‘Just as well’, the doctor had brusquely told her, ‘if it had been born it would have had problems you know, not something you would have wanted I’m sure.’ What the hell did he know? Damn bas . . .

“Sara,” Larry brought her back to the room, “Ramon asked you a question.” The boy was looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, “what did you say?”

Ramon shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter anyway. But she looked at him expectantly so he asked again, “You have any kids?”

Sara stared a moment, then she said, “No.”

“Oh.” Ramon looked around then added, “Ma will ask me when she gets home.”

“Why aren’t you in school?” Larry asked him.

The boy shrugged again, “Left early.”

“Sounds like a stupid thing to do.” Larry turned to Sara and said, “We better get going so we can get this taken care of this afternoon.”

Sara nodded. Ramon looked defensively at Larry, but a little lost, too. Sara surprised herself by asking him, “Did you know the people who lived here?”

“Yeah,” he answered rather sullenly.

“Did they have kids?”

He looked at her then said, again, “Yeah.”

Larry watched the two of them.

“Your friends?” Sara asked. She didn’t know why. She didn’t think she cared.

“Yeah, Jessie and Carlos were my friends.”

“I’m sorry, you must miss them. They move far away?”

“Carlos is dead. Jessie and her little brothers and sister went to live with their grandma somewhere. I don’t know where. I gotta go.” Ramon turned to leave, then he abruptly twisted around and said, “Their ma’s friends ain’t going to like you living here.” He turned and ran out the door.

Larry didn’t say anything. Sara looked at the stains on the floor. She didn’t want to know. They walked out and locked the door behind them.

excerpt from "Carlos's ma's Friends"
Copyright © 1997 by Susan J. Robishaw