security deposit

I approach the car and wait for the old man to part the window. Through the glass I meet his eyes. They are wet and overcrowded, more so than usual. He motions towards the passenger side and I make my way around. Gone is the costly flatbed he used to meet me in. A reluctant Toyota has taken it’s place. It carries the old Mexican and his problems around. The sedan sags and it’s body is heavily salted from the Chicago winter. Im uneasy as I open the door. I wonder if he has my money. To be kind I ask him his state.

Not so good he tells me. ‘Things are just fucking crazy lately.’

His accent is thick and his breath makes my eyes water. A very distinct filet o fish. I’m uncomfortable. The stench and the situation. Both are making me uneasy. This is too informal. Usually the check is slipped through the window. I was careful when I shut the door. It is left slightly ajar for quick escape. It is left slightly ajar for fresh air.

He tells me the economy has really hurt him. He tells me his properties are fucked, that he had to sell his truck. Nobody is renting he says. Twenty five years he’s worked for himself. Now he is forced to go find work. It’s not so bad he says, mostly just physical labor. The old mexican asks what will happen if his body can’t keep up.

I want to tell him it’s his own damn fault. He could have listened to the warnings and planned accordingly. I don’t care if his body fails him. If his rickety ass keels over so be it. Instead I bite my tongue and I stare jealously at a couple crossing the street. They’re young and hip and beautiful. The two break pace to beat the light.

The economy has effected everyone, including myself I explain. ‘Thats why I’m being persistent.’

‘But what I owe you is fucking nothing compared to what I owe them.’

‘I understand this.’

‘You know how much I owe a month to these fucking guys? Twenty five thousand dollars.’

‘I mean, that’s horrible and everything.’

‘Five years ago, five years ago I was fine. I had money in the bank. Making payments. Everything was great. But man, man I would have never thought.’

‘You should have never spent the money. It’s been six months since I moved out and I’ve been plenty patient. Was I not a good tenant?’

‘You were and you’re a good kid. Thats why I feel terrible.’

Fast food wrappers and soda cans riddle the floorboards. The interior is cleaner than the exterior, but it's a tight race. It’s cluttered from back to front. Trash fills every available crevice.

Commercial or residential, it doesn’t matter. Nobody is renting anything he says. He tells me him and his wife will be out on the street soon. That the economy has forced him to do some terrible things.

I place my hand on the door and wonder what he means. Terrible things? I bet he killed someone. At the least he knifed some poor bastard. Should I leave now? Just get out of the car and forget the money. At what speed can I still exit the vehicle safely? I don’t have health insurance. Tuck and roll is always an option. I really don’t want to tear this coat though.

‘Listen, Im going to write you this check for 200. It’s not the full amount. I know I owe you more, but believe me when I say I cant pay you everything. Maybe six months. I don’t know. I got all these people. All these people calling me. Twenty fucking years I’ve owned my house and now it’s being foreclosed on. Twenty fucking years. I owe money everywhere. My phone rings and its someone looking for money. Believe me when I say I lay in bed thinking about this. Awake all fucking night, thinking about what happened, what went wrong. I’m a good guy. I’m honest. I don’t fucking cheat nobody, but now I have no choice. Maybe six months, maybe summer comes around, you give me a call and see how things are. God I hope they are better. Here, here’s a check for 200 dollars. I’m sorry my friend. I’ve dated it for the nineteenth. Now thats one, two, three, three weeks from tomorrow. I’m sorry. What you do is you call me up in the morning. The morning of the nineteenth and you say, ‘Candido, can I cash the check?’ Then I will deposit 200 dollars into my account that afternoon. Then what you do is go to the bank. Make sure it’s my bank and withdraw it for cash. It has to be the morning after. Otherwise I don’t if the money will be there. I got checks all over the place. If you wait longer, who knows? It might be gone. I left your name blank because I forget how to spell your last name. I’m sorry.’