Thunder and Lightening: Chapter 3Home « Thunder and Lightening Index « Previous

- Chapter 3

Posted: November 13, 2004 - 06:02:14 pm

Mike pulled into his parking spot next to the beat up old truck. Getting out, he

noticed that Jerry was underneath the rear examining the muffler. Going over to

him, he bent down and said, "It's about time to open the store."

In a loud voice, Jerry answered, "Go ahead and open. Everything is ready for

you."

Mike went in the back door and opened the store while Jerry continued his survey

of the undercarriage of the truck. He hadn't seen a truck with a wooden bed in

years and was struggling to figure out how to fix it. It looked simple enough,

but he knew that looks could be deceiving. Satisfied that he had a good idea how

to go about fixing it, he crawled out from under the truck and took stock of his

clothes. He needed to change and two days without a shower was a day too many.

Going into the store, he looked around and saw that Mike was already dealing

with a customer. Rather than interrupt, he went into his office and got a change

of clothes and a towel. Wrapping the clothes in the towel, he set it on his

desk.

Returning to the counter, he watched as Mike finished taking care of the

customer. When the customer was gone, he said, "I'm going to the Y to take a

shower. Can you watch the store?"

"Sure," replied Mike as he turned back to the counter. He wondered if Jerry was

serious about his wife coming to work in the store.

Jerry returned a half an hour later wearing a fresh change of clothes. Entering

the back of the store, he set his dirty clothes in a paper sack and carried it

into his office. He called out, "Mike, I'm back."

He didn't wait for a reply as he closed the door. Today, he had to locate a

place to live as the office was beginning to get a little old. While there, he

noticed the pages he had gotten from the bank the previous day. Maybe the first

thing that he needed to do was resolve his financial situation.

Sitting at his desk, he started going over the record of the checks. It only

took him a few minutes to get totally immersed in what he was doing. At first

glance, it looked like he could take nine hundred dollars a month without

impacting anyone except his wife's idle time. His concentration was interrupted

when Mike knocked on the door. Looking up, he said, "Come in."

Mike slowly opened the door and peered into the office. This was a very tough

thing for him to do, but he needed to remind Jerry about the discussion

concerning his wife. Apologetically, he said, "Karen is here to talk to you

about the job you offered."

That reminded Jerry of his conversation and he grinned over at Mike. He said,

"Great. Send her in."

A few minutes later, Mike's wife entered the room just as Jerry finished

clearing off his personal papers from the desk. Jerry said, "Hello, Karen. Have

a seat."

Karen nervously took a seat opposite the big man. She knew that Jerry was a big

man, but until now she had never really dealt with him one on one. Sitting this

close to him, she could understand why Mike was terrified of him. Voice shaking

a little, she said, "Mike told me something about a job."

"Yes. I was wondering if you would like to manage the inventory of the store. It

is a part-time job, but has some nice benefits. You'll be able to come to work

with Mike, take your lunches together, and work around your kid's school hours."

"I don't really know that much about auto parts," she answered nervously.

Jerry was quiet for a moment before he replied, "That might be a problem. Of

course, you don't have to know what things do and most of the items have the

names on the boxes. I'd teach you, but have recently come to the conclusion that

I'm not a very good teacher. I don't have the patience for it, but I'm sure that

Mike would be happy to help you out."

"I've been taking computer classes at the community college," said Karen hoping

that it would be a good reason to hire her.

"We don't have a computer here, but I've been thinking that it is time to change

that. You could probably take charge of that effort since I have no clue about

computers."

"Oh," replied Karen wondering if she were up to the job. Finally, she said, "I'm

not sure that I can learn all that stuff."

"Bah! If I can learn it, so can you. The job pays $8.00 an hour to start. If you

stay six months, it will go up to $9.00 an hour."

"Are you saying that you'll take a chance on me?"

"Yes. When can you start?"

"How about tomorrow?"

Jerry sat there for a moment considering the answer. Tomorrow would be good, but

today would be better. Satisfied that she was going to come to work, he decided

not to push it. He smiled and dug through the desk drawer for an application and

a W2 form. Handing them to her, he said, "Why don't you fill this out? Mike has

late lunch today, so maybe you will want to hang around and go to lunch with

him."

Karen looked down at the forms he had handed her. They were standard forms and

wouldn't take long to fill out. It was only eleven in the morning. She looked up

and said, "Great. I'll fill them out now."

"Use my desk, I'll talk to Mike and see how things are going in the store."

Wandering out to the front of the store, he saw Mike waiting to hear the news.

Split in his opinion as to whether his wife should work here, he didn't want to

hear from her that she had been turned down. Even worse would be the possibility

that Jerry would have him break the news to her. Seeing the look on Mike's face,

Jerry said, "She's filling out the paperwork now and will start tomorrow. I'm

going to head out for an early lunch. I'll be back in about an hour and a half.

I have some errands to run."

Over lunch at the burger joint, Jerry examined the classified ads looking for a

cheap place to live. He didn't need much, just enough room for a bed, a kitchen,

and a bathroom. Wolfing down his burger, he circled a couple of places that were

close by and seemed reasonably priced. As soon as he finished eating, he picked

up the paper and headed out.

The neighborhood had seen better days and those days had been long ago. It had

been taken over by the poor and elderly. The street, or what passed as a street,

was filled with potholes and lined with old cars that belonged on the lot of

that horrible used car place where he had bought his truck. The few teenagers he

had seen, all of whom were black, looked angry.

He parked in front of the house that was listed in the advertisement. A couple

of windows were broken, the steps were half rotted, and the house needed

painting. It was in bad enough shape that his truck looked new compared to it.

Shaking his head, he debated what to do. Stepping out of the truck, he went up

to the house. A teenager, perhaps fifteen, came over to where he stood and said,

"Kinda white to be thinkin' of livin' here."

Without turning to look at the kid, Jerry replied, "Kinda young to be out of

school."

"Shit, what's that got to do with anythin'." School didn't start for two weeks,

so the insult didn't mean anything to the kid.

"Is this a safe neighborhood?"

The kid shrugged and looked around before he answered, "Depends."

"Depends on what?" asked Jerry believing he knew the answer to his question.

"Whether you're black or white."

Jerry turned and stepped up to the kid. Putting his hands on his hips, he faced

the kid directly letting him get a glimpse of his full size. Raising an eyebrow,

he asked, "Do you think I'll have any trouble that I can't handle?"

Taking in the monster that stood before him, the kid gulped and then replied,

"Don't think so."

"Good. Tell me a reason to move here."

"You'll have me for a neighbor," replied the kid with a smirk.

Looking down at the boy, Jerry burst out laughing and said, "I think you've

talked me into it. Where do I find the owner of this dump?"

"He's got the real estate office six blocks north of here," replied the kid

wondering if this guy was serious about moving into the neighborhood. He'd be

the only white within a half a mile. As a last resort, he asked, "Are you sure

you want to live here? This is a slum if you haven't noticed."

"I noticed and don't care," replied Jerry.

The two of them stood there for a moment in silence, Jerry stood examining the

house while the kid examined Jerry. Coming to a decision, Jerry said, "I'm going

to the real estate office. You say it is six blocks from here?"

"Yeah, take the street there to the left and you'll hit it. You can't miss the

place. He's the only one with a fancy car in the whole area."

Jerry followed the directions and found the office without a problem. Parked out

front of office building was a silver Lexis. Considering that he had driven past

clunker after clunker on the way there, the presence of the Lexis was almost a

shock to the system. The sign in front of the building said, "Robert Benson

Property Management."

A pasty-faced little man with a very bad toupee was seated behind a desk talking

on the telephone. Jerry hated him at first sight without being able to put a

finger on why he reacted to the man in such a fashion. After the man hung up the

telephone, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

"You have a property on Grayson Lane for rent."

"Yes, I do."

"I'd like to rent it."

"It's not in a very good neighborhood," replied Robert, surprised that a white

wanted to rent the house and unsure that he wanted to rent to a white man. He

much preferred to rent to folks that knew better than to screw with the

landlord. Blacks and Mexicans knew that little lesson. If they hadn't learned it

elsewhere, they learned it here.

"At two hundred a month, I like the price," replied Jerry.

"Okay. It'll be a two hundred deposit with two months rent up front," answered

the guy. With a sly look on his face, Robert asked, "Looking for a little out of

the way place to bring your girlfriend, huh?"

Jerry shot a nasty look at the greasy little man. The guy didn't seem to care

and just said, "I guess it is none of my business."

"Right," answered Jerry. He pulled out his wallet pocket and removed six hundred

dollars. Handing it over to the man, he said, "I need a receipt and a lease."

The man bent down to fill out the lease. As he worked, Jerry asked, "You gonna

fix the windows on the place?"

"You're renting it as is," replied Robert as he bent to his work.

Jerry had expected that as an answer and knew that even if he made improvements

to the house that the guy would end up keeping the deposit. This guy was a

slumlord, profiting off the poor. Jerry could feel the rage coming to the

surface as he thought, 'I'm one of the poor and had better get used to it. I

have to live off eight hundred a month. That's probably more than most of my new

neighbors.'

Robert handed him the lease and said, "Sign it."

Jerry took the time to read over the lease. It was the nastiest lease that he

had ever encountered. A week late with rent and the owner could change the locks

on the door and confiscate everything inside the house. It was illegal, but who

could afford to contest it in court. Growling, he signed the lease. Before

handing it back, he said, "Receipt for my six hundred."

"Oh, yeah," replied the man. He filled out two receipts. One for the deposit and

one for two months rent. As he handed them over, he said, "You're gonna love

living in that neighborhood. Lots of young black pussy there that'll fuck you

for a few bucks. Hell, I bet some of them would appreciate the chance to fuck

you instead of me for the rent."

The rage welled up in Jerry at the way the man was talking about using people

and his fists slowly curled up into a fist. Fighting back the rage, he handed

over the crumpled lease and said, "The keys."

Robert handed him the keys and watched as Jerry stiffly walked out of the

building. It was lucky that he didn't know how close he had come to seeing a

demonstration of Jerry's strength. Jerry had wanted to tear the man in half.

Jerry sat in the truck as the rage slowly retreated. Talking to the truck, he

said, "I was hoping that I wouldn't feel that rage anymore. Maybe I'm wrong, but

there was something different about it this time."

He started the truck and drove back to the house he had rented. Pulling up in

front of the house, he looked over at it and said, "Thunder, this is your new

home."

Getting out, he fished the keys to the house from his pocket. Unlocking the

front door, he opened it and stepped back as a foul smell billowed out. He went

into the house and opened windows to let it air out. Two of the windows had

broken panes and he left them closed. The place was filthy with trash piled up

on the floor. Garbage that had been in the kitchen had turned into a science

experiment. Coughing, he said, "I guess I'll be spending another night or two in

the office until I get this place cleaned up."

Getting out of the house, the kid turned up and looked at him. Surprised at

seeing the guy back, the kid said, "I thought you were fooling about renting

this place."

Jerry frowned as he thought about it. He tended to be a rather literal guy that

did what he said. He replied, "I don't fool about things."

The kid nodded his head, as he believed the guy was telling him the truth. After

a minute he said, "I'm Abraham Lincoln Spencer."

"I'm Jerry Smith. Can I call you Abe?"

"Makes me sound old."

"Nothing wrong with that," replied Jerry as he looked over at the kid with a

neutral expression.

"Okay, if I can call you Jerry."

"Sure thing," answered Jerry as he stood back from the house. With a smile, he

said, "You didn't tell me the owner was such a nice guy."

"Nice guy?" asked the kid incredulous. Everyone hated the landlord with a

passion. In fact, he was surprised that no one had killed him yet. Stepping

back, he challenged, "You whites all stick together."

"Yeah, we do. In the five minutes I was there, I felt like ripping off his head

and shoving it up his ass."

Abe looked over at Jerry for a minute and said, "Oh, you don't like him."

"Right. That's one slimy asshole."

Abe didn't reply in anyway except that he smiled a little more broadly. The more

he talked to this guy, the more he liked him. It was going to be interesting to

see how the other people in the neighborhood took to the guy. Of course,

considering the size of Jerry it would be just as interesting to see how he

would take to the people in the neighborhood.

Jerry said, "I'm heading back to the job."

"Aren't you going to lock up the house?"

"Why?"

"Someone might steal something," answered Abe looking over at the wide open

door. It was just inviting anyone to come in and take whatever he or she wanted.

"I hope they do," replied Jerry. "There's nothing in there that I want."

"They'll take the fridge."

Jerry looked down at Abe and answered, "Just let people know that if they take

the appliances, that I'll play basketball using their body as a ball."

That Jerry could carry out that threat was not lost on Abe. He'd spread the word

knowing that it wouldn't do any good until more people saw the guy. Shaking his

head, Abe answered, "They won't believe the threat until they see you."

Jerry laughed and said, "Then I expect they'll return them to me."

Abe stood there laughing as Jerry drove off in his truck. It was going to be fun

having this guy as a next door neighbor. He was going to create quite a stir

amongst the people here.

Jerry drove carefully down the street avoiding the potholes. The city probably

wouldn't fix them, so he was just going to have to be careful driving around

here. It was twelve blocks to the store and he made the trip in eight minutes.

As he drove, he decided that if Abe was old enough and was willing, that he

could ride a bike to the store and work part-time as a stock boy.

Entering the store, Mike and Karen were seated at the counter talking with each

other. They didn't expect Jerry back for another thirty minutes, so they were

talking about what she could expect working there. Jerry, not realizing they

hadn't heard him, asked, "You guys ready for lunch?"

Mike turned in surprise and said, "Sure."

Karen couldn't believe how jumpy her husband was around Jerry, but then she had

never seen Jerry angry. She answered, "Ready to go."

"Mike, I'll see you when you get back. Karen, I guess I'll see you in the

morning after you get the kids off to school."

"Sure," replied Mike. At the same time, Karen replied, "Right."

Jerry watched as the pair left the store together, but drove off in separate

cars. Jerry looked down at the receipts and saw that they had a pretty good

lunchtime crowd. Most of their business was from auto repair houses around town

and discounted, but the walk- in home-fixit crowd bought the high profit items.

The next person to enter the store was the shipping company. It took him several

trips with the dolly to unload the twenty boxes containing his orders from last

week. He signed the bill of lading and watched as the man left to make his next

delivery. Staring at the twenty boxes, he realized that he could have used Karen

here today rather than tomorrow. Sighing, he went over and started to unpack

them, putting each item on the shelves in the proper place.

He was interrupted three times by customers as he worked, but he had completed

restocking the shelves by the time Mike returned from lunch. Mike noticed the

empty boxes and said, "You could have waited until I returned."

"Nah. I enjoyed the effort."

Mike just shrugged and went behind the counter. Curious, he examined the

schedule and saw that he was scheduled to work Saturday. Without intending it,

he said, "I see you have me down for Saturday on the schedule."

Jerry walked over and scratched Mike's name off the schedule as he said, "Sorry.

I didn't make the change."

"I didn't mean it like that," replied Mike.

"That's okay. Relax, you're too tense."

Mike looked at the schedule and said, "You don't have me down for Monday."

Jerry looked over at the schedule and nodded his agreement. He said, "That's

right."

"Do you want me to work Monday?"

The question surprised Jerry and he was almost ready to answer that he could

have that day off as well when he realized that Karen would be working Monday.

Smiling he said, "I'll tell you what. Why don't you start working Mondays and

taking off Saturdays?"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I figure your wife will be working weekdays. You might want to work those

same days and have the same days off."

Mike looked at Jerry and said, "Okay. Sounds good to me."

"Great. I'm thinking about hiring a stock boy. Do you think you can train him?"

"I suppose. It's not hard. You sure we need one? Sammy usually does that."

"I think Sammy is about ready to start working the counter all of the time. I

figure the new guy can take care of some of the things around the store in

addition to the putting up stock," replied Jerry.

Mike shook his head and said, "We still need two full time people."

Jerry smiled as he thought about the neighborhood into which he had just moved.

Somewhere around there, someone had to want a job. Working for him had to be

better than fucking the landlord. He replied, "Don't worry about that."

The hours passed. Sammy came into work and joined Mike at the counter. Jerry

went into the back and finished going through the records of his checking

account. He calculated how much money was required to pay the household bills.

Frowning, he realized that less than a quarter of his money was going to pay

bills. Not quite able to believe the numbers, he checked a second and a third

time. The house payment was low since he had bought the house twenty years ago

when he was just a salesclerk at the store.

He added together how much money his wife was spending on herself. She was

spending almost three thousand on her hobbies and personal interests. He split

the three thousand into four parts. He was left with eight hundred for himself.

Smiling, he realized that the lifestyle of his wife was going to take a major

turn for the worse.

Jerry picked up the telephone and called his bank. After a few minutes he was

put in touch with the bank manager. It took some time for him to make clear what

he wanted to do, but the bank manager was unable to help him. Instead, the bank

manager had suggested that he contact a lawyer.

Jerry didn't have a lawyer and didn't even know how to go about getting one.

Frowning, he decided to put it off for another day. He didn't even know what

credit cards his wife was using that had his name on them, but they had to be

stopped before she realized he was done with paying her way through life.

Walking out of his office, he was surprised to find that Mike and Sammy were

closing up the store. Sammy turned to Jerry and said, "Time to go home."

Jerry realized that he had a home to which he could go, at least for a little

while this evening. When the other two left the store, he locked up and went out

the back to his truck. Getting in, he drove by the burger place and had another

burger. From there, he went to the local grocery store and bought a hundred

dollars worth of cleaning supplies. He wondered if that was enough, but didn't

let the thought hold him back.

Driving down the street keeping a sharp eye out for potholes, he made it to his

house in ten minutes. As he parked, he looked around the neighborhood taking it

in all. There must have been two dozen kids running around and riding on bikes.

Adults were out in the yards talking to each other. A group of teenage boys were

leaning against a car watching him get out of his truck with interest. Jerry got

out before he spotted Abe sitting on the porch next door. Abe's head was turning

from one group of people to the next hoping to catch their reactions.

One of the teenage boys stepped away from the car and sauntered over to Jerry.

Frowning, he looked at the large man as though assessing him. Jerry reached out

offering to shake hands. The teenager looked down at the hand for a second and

then grabbed it squeezing as hard as he could. Jerry's hand closed around the

kid's hand appearing to swallow it in the process. The kid said, "I heard a

strong white man was moving into the neighborhood. Not sure if I like that, if

you catch my drift."

Jerry looked down and noticed that his front tire was right against the curb.

Reaching down to the bumper, he lifted the truck and pulled the front a few

inches from the curb before setting the truck down. Turning to look at the

teenager, he said, "We'll have to talk about it someday after we've gotten to

know each other a little better. First impressions are important, but not all

that important."

The kid looked at Jerry and then stared at the truck. It was a small truck,

built in the mid-fifties and not as heavy as most modern cars. Still the

demonstration was effective. The other teenagers that had stayed back by the car

across the street shifted nervously and whispered to each other. The kid nodded,

"You're strong. I'll give you that."

Jerry didn't respond, but went to the passenger door of the truck and pulled out

the cleaning supplies that he had purchased. As he lifted the bags, he said,

"The name is Jerry Smith."

"I'm Martin Luther Spencer," replied the black kid.

Nodding, Jerry started to walk up the path to the front door. As he went, he

said, "You must be the older brother of Abe."

Intrigued, Martin followed and asked, "How do you know my brother?"

"He's half the reason I moved here," replied Jerry as he climbed the steps to

the porch. The steps creaked as he stepped on them and it was clear that they

wouldn't support his weight if he carried anything heavy.

"Why?"

"I like him," replied Jerry as he looked into the house. If anything, it was

dirtier than it had been when he had walked through it earlier. Newspapers were

spread all over the floor, old towels, broken toys, and other debris left by who

ever had been the previous occupant were scattered about the floor. A number of

people had trooped through the house while he had been gone. Abe had warned him

that would happen, so he wasn't surprised.

Martin froze with narrowed eyes staring at Jerry's back. Suspicious, he asked,

"Are you a faggot?"

"Nope. Are you?"

"Fuck you, man. You're the one saying you like my little brother."

Jerry turned and looked at Martin. Shaking his head at how his statement had

been misunderstood, he replied, "Your little brother tried to talk me out of

moving here. Honesty like that is pretty rare. He's a good kid. Someone ought to

make sure he makes it to school everyday."

Martin relaxed a little and looked back at his friends hanging around the car.

He didn't know what to make of this guy moving into his neighborhood. Finally,

he said, "Anyone that hurts him is going to have to answer to me."

Entering the house, Jerry dropped the cleaning supplies by the front door and

pulled out the box of trash bags. As he pulled a bag out, he said, "Good for

you. I think I like you too. Now go give your report to the kids hanging around

that car across the street. I've got to start cleaning up before it gets dark."

Martin stood there looking at Jerry as he opened a bag and started picking up

the trash spread on the floor of the very small living room. Puzzled, he turned

and went back across the street. A few minutes later, Jerry heard a noise behind

him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Abe was standing at the door. "Hi,

Abe. Met your brother. He's a nice guy."

"You mean that in the same way you talked about the landlord?"

"No. I mean I really like your brother. He cares about you and I can respect

that," answered Jerry as he tied off the bag and went to get another one.

"You sure confused him," replied Abe as he turned to watch his brother talking

to his friends. He knew that half of them used drugs and hoped that his brother

wasn't involved with drugs, but that was highly unlikely. Everyone in the area

smoked grass, but there were more than a few crack addicts in the area. Turning

to look at Jerry, he said, "Some people think you are here to open a crack

house."

"No. I'm here to live," replied Jerry wondering why they would think that.

Abe was quiet as he watched Jerry fill another bag with trash. After a few

minutes, Abe said, "Only time whites come here is to take something from us."

"Sad that you believe that. Even sadder if that is true," remarked Jerry as he

thought about it. The rage inside was very quiet.

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