Page 3 of Shep
I was stuck.
That was why, when Mr. Reid, the vo-tech instructor, had reached out to a friend whose son owned the shop in Devil’s Ditch on my behalf, I’d been so excited. I had aninfor not only a job, but a real career.But when he called me earlier and told me the owner had said no, I’d been crushed. And panicked.
Still was.
Because I was being evicted.
The landlord, Jerky Jack–the name I called him because he really was a jerk–had banged on the door last week and handed me my eviction notice.
“Here.”
He pushed the piece of paper at me and it crumpled as I took it. He had a cigarette dangling from his lips and his pants were falling down. I’d never seen him without a cigarette or with a belt. He lived in the first trailer from the road and watched everyone coming and going like an eighty-year old woman.
“What’s this?” I asked as I stared at the words. I saw the big letters at the top, but they didn’t make sense that he was giving it to me.
“Eviction notice.”
My head whipped up when I wasn’t wrong. “Eviction? Why? Rent isn’t due for another week!”
“You’re four months behind.”
I shook my head. “No. Marcus pays you on time every month.”
He took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled a stinky cloud. My nose crinkled.
“Nope, he hasn’t. I told him last month what would happen.”
“He paid you,” I said again. “I gave him my portion of the rent.”
He laughed, but it was phlegmy and gross. “Then go take it up with him.”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone? Sounds like you got played, girlie.”
Had I? By my own brother?
The answer was yes. When Marcus left, wherever the hell he went, he hadn’t turned over the rent money as I’d assumed. He’d pocketed it.
Just up and left me, which was fine because while he’d been an adult and legally my guardian until I turned eighteen, I’d always taken care of myself. But screwing me over? That was new.
With my hotel job, I could just squeak by with this month’s payment, but I couldn’t make any dent on the back money I, solo, now owed.
It had been almost the whole week the landlord gave me and I hadn’t heard from Marcus. I’d asked around at places he liked to hang. The Roadside, where I talked to the owner. The off track betting place out by the highway. His job at the canning place on the other side of Barnes. HR there said he’d quit a month ago.
No brother. No money for rent. I had to be out tomorrow.
Tomorrow.Thus, the panicking.
The pile of belongings I was going to fit in my oldcar wasn’t much. I wouldn’t miss the thrift store furniture and chipped dishes.
“Look, we know things are tough for you right now, but we’re trying to help,” Jasmine said. Her bare legs quivered from the cold.
Tough? They had no idea the extent of it. Marie lived with her parents and two younger sisters. Jasmine lived with her grandmother, mother, and aunt. They weren’t the Kardashians, but they were doing ok.
“By going to a party?” I countered.
“By getting you the money you need to pay Jack the rent. We know it’s been tight with Marcus flaking like he did.”
