“Well then, pleasure to meet ya.” Gerry offered his worn, calloused hand for Zayzann to shake. After a hearty greeting, Gerry released his vice grip on the Paxoram's hand. “It's getting late in the day. How’s about we head back to shore?”
The journey back to the docks was slow and meandering, so much so that Zayzann was able to acclimate to the rhythmic ride over the river waves. Gerry steered the inline fishing boat while keeping an eye on the strange, half-drowned man he'd rescued from the river.
Poor fella. Musta been starving. It’s such a shame, seeing such young folks struggling to feed their families…
The aged fisher continued his silent steering as Zayzann glanced over to get a better look at his savior. Gerry had a rough, hewn face that was chiseled with crags from toil and oppressive sunlight. His hands and arms had all the nicks and callouses that were a hallmark of a hard worker. Despite the unpolished nature of his speech, Zayzann could tell that Gerry was all right.
Tension left his limbs as Zayzann relaxed in the hot sun and cool breeze with a full belly of fish. He’d eaten so much so quickly that he had an uncomfortable fullness that encouraged him to avoid moving and rest. Sensing that Zayzann had finally calmed down, Gerry interrupted the peaceful silence.
“So, Zayne. Feel free to tell me off for askin’, but did ya lose your boat?” Gerry moored the small watercraft to the rickety dock with skillful hands. “Why were ya out on the waters all alone?”
“My family, that is, I needed to get food.” Zayzann sputtered over his words, pressed a hand against his midsection, and drew his brows together while trying to delicately explain his presence there. “We’ve been struggling to make it, and I can’t get a proper job, and…”
Zayzann trailed off, allowing Gerry to fill in the blanks for himself. He extended a hand to help steady Zayzann as the pair left the boat. Gerry turned back to grab the net of fish he’d caught earlier, but Zayzann was much quicker to guess at his intentions, and he hoisted the laden net with a single outstretched arm.
“Whoa, strong fella, ain’t ya?” Gerry marveled at the ease that Zayzann grasped and lifted the net, without so much as a grunt or complaint. “That’s the biggest catch I’ve had in ages, too. Impressive.”
The pair treaded carefully along the narrow passage, avoiding rotted out portions and water-logged planks as they made their way to the shore. Along their slow walk back, several other fishers called out to Gerry from either side of the dock to issue their friendly greetings.
“Hey, Gerry. Nice catch!” A sun-kissed man called out from his boat. He pushed back his cap to get a better look at Zayzann before grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, is that Henry? You finally got him out on the river, eh?”
“Him? No, this is Zayne.” Gerry called back with a forced smile. “Found him out by Port-Side. Well, good luck to ya!”
After several such encounters, Zayzann managed to piece together a few facts about his lonesome companion. Gerald didn’t have much more to his name outside of the small fishing boat, and he lived a quiet life by the riverside. And any mention of “Henry” from the other fishers caused him to wince and pull a tight-lipped, quivering smile, which Zayzann detected with his sharp eyesight.
“Well, c’mon then.” Gerry trudged away towards the nearby parking lot with pops and cracks of aged joints.
The pair made their way to Gerry’s truck, and Zayzann casually deposited the fresh catch into the back with Gerry’s fishing gear. He spied a small, wooden box that resembled Iris’s cedar chest back home. It was crude and obviously handmade, with a small series of carved letters that read “Henry” chiseled near the brass toggle closure. Zayzann made a mental note of this before letting himself into the truck.
“Darn this dust.” Gerry wiped a traitorous tear from his eye and sniffed loudly to conceal himself as Zayzann opened the passenger door. “I should clean this ol’ truck out more often. Sorry about the mess.”
Gerry made a big show of tidying the cab for Zayzann to join him, but it was obviously a flimsy front. There was no more or less dust inside the cab than out, but Zayzann didn’t call Gerry out on it. Instead, he shifted some mail and magazines from the passenger seat into the glove box and sat down.
They navigated back to the Port-Side bus station and Gerry waited for Zayzann to recover his things from the outcropping. Zayzann donned the cargo pants and oversized black V-neck and carried the sandy shoes with one hand, and the tattered messenger bag in the other.
Gerry eyed the young man’s ill-fitting attire, lack of socks, and ragged belongings before he swallowed hard at a lump in his throat. With no boat, car, or even proper clothing, this man was much worse off than he’d thought. His mind drifted to Henry, and his imaginary dust began plaguing Gerry anew.
“Are you all right, Gerry?” Zayzann asked as he climbed back into the cab and sat beside the weary man. “Would it be better if you just went home? You don’t have to drop me off if you’re feeling poorly. It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t like that.” Gerry countered as a trembling hand reached for the jingling key fob sticking out from the ignition. “It’s just that you remind me of someone, and—”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I know, lad.” Gerry wiped his eye and turned the truck on again. “But you have an honest face, and it’ll help the time go by faster. Besides, how else are you gonna haul that fish home? The driver’d tan your hide if you carried raw fish on the city bus.”
Zayzann had no counter argument for Gerry. He would do practically anything to avoid a bumpy commute home on the city bus, and Gerry looked like he needed a friend. Zayzann recited Iris’s address as he’d been instructed by Khazmine to help him navigate home, and listened patiently to Gerry fill the cab with tales of days gone by.
They were stories of an arrogant country boy with a chip on his shoulder, who’d made lots of mistakes, fell in love, and lived life to the fullest. Gerry had an engaging, musical quality to his stories that reminded Zayzann of Byxx back at the apartment. His tone soured when Gerry recalled the events of a few years back, and the music died out of his voice as they drove.
“I was young an’ stupid. Didn’t know what I was signing up for.” Gerry gripped the worn leather on the steering wheel, forcing it to creak. “It was one of those schemes, you know, like on the news? I can’t remember the name of it just now.”
“What happened?”
“Some a**holes drained my accounts.” Gerry admitted through a pained wince. “Took every blasted cent I had. An’ I’d just put a down payment on the boat, too. Couldn’t afford to cancel the purchase, so now the run-down house and the boat’s all that’s left. Lost everything else, including my partner and my boy.”
“Henry?”
“Yeah…” Gerry lingered at a red light for a pair of happy families to cross in front of him on their way to the park. “Left me when the money dried up. Said I was a fool, and they were right.”
The light turned green, and Zayzann’s eyes traced over the happy family with a young daughter holding her mother’s hand.
“Well, crown me fool, lad.” Gerry continued through deep, mindful breaths. “But if there’s one thing I can tell ya, it’s don’t put everything you’ve got into just one thing, ya hear? And never double down on a bad bet; there’s no use diggin’ your own grave trying to get ahead of sunk costs.”
The truck pulled into the apartment parking lot in stifling silence as Zayzann absorbed Gerry’s words of wisdom.
In the frantic, noisy chaos of the GC&S building, Iris found herself drowning in more invoices than she could handle. Jeremy had dropped off two huge stacks of documents for her to review and she couldn’t ask Warren for help, as he was still out on one of his late lunches. Her only respite from the din was the startling vibration of her cellphone, which insisted on getting Iris’s attention after two missed calls. Her face went pale and sweaty from the harsh tone of the stoic, automated voice message that the caller had left her.
“Greetings. Your mortgage account ending in XXXX is past due. A late fee of forty-three dollars has been added to your account. Please call to schedule your payment immediately to avoid additional fees. Thank you, goodbye.”
Iris fidgeted with the phone and checked the number against the one she had saved in her contacts, and a quick call to her lender confirmed the missed payment. Iris checked her phone calendar, then her bank account to ensure that she’d sent the money two weeks ago to Lily, only to confirm it there as well.
What’s going on?
The ceaseless chatter from the office meerkats chafed against Iris’s last nerve, and she fled to the lonely stairwell to collect her thoughts in peace. In the relative silence of the echoing alcove, Iris made a phone call she had desperately tried to avoid. With trembling hands, she dialed the number and an irritable voice picked up on the other end.
“Yeah? What do you want?” Lily barked at Iris enough for her to pull the phone away from her ear. “I thought I told you not to call me again. What is it?”
“Lily, please think carefully.” Iris timidly clutched onto her phone and gingerly walked on eggshells to avoid being screamed at. “Did you pay the mortgage two weeks ago?”
“What? Of course I did.” Lily’s shrill voice peeled into the echo chamber. “Oh, wait. We’re short, like, $650 this month.”
“WHAT?” Iris filled the alcove with surprise and disbelief, rattling the outer window with her volume. “Lily, what happened?”
“My guitar got busted during our last show, and I needed a down payment for the replacement.” Lily offered with casual nonchalance. “No biggie.”
“Yes it is!” Iris roared. “It is a big deal, Lily! I can’t afford six hundred and fifty more dollars. How much is this guitar that it needed a down payment of—You know what, it doesn’t matter how much it is. Return that guitar immediately, Lily.”
“I can’t.” Lily snapped back at Iris between chewing her gum. “No refunds or exchanges. I already put the money down. Come on, cheapskate. You’ve got the money for it. Isn’t that why you got that big, fancy job in the city, and I have to watch this crummy old house that’s falling apart?”
“I, I can’t deal with this right now, Lily.” Iris sighed as she collapsed back into the cold stairwell wall. “You need to fix this, understand? We could lose the house, Lily.”
The sound of Lily’s abrupt hang up clicked in the cold stairwell, leaving Iris to figure things out for herself once again. She pressed the hot phone to her cold face, stifled her tears and abandoned the stairwell to return to her post. A faint trail of cigarette smoke snaked through the air and dissipated into the darkness.
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