The man in the jacket took a few steps forward and stood in front of a half-meter-high wire fence, verifying his identity before speaking, “I’m Bruce, one of Vincent’s associates.”
Martin, who was recalling the details of the high-interest loan, asked, “What’s the matter?”
Bruce placed his hands on the weathered wire fence and said, “I heard that the old scoundrel, Jack Davis, has fled. The boss asked me to remind you not to forget the debt you owe. The first installment is due next week.”
The debt was borrowed by the former Martin Davis, and Martin had no choice but to face it head-on, “It’s not overdue yet.”
“A friendly reminder: be prepared,” Bruce said, withdrawing his hands, brushing off the rust, and adjusting his belt to hoist up his trousers, which parted to reveal a pistol tucked under his arm.
He gave a hearty grin and said, “Don’t worry. Beast House is a respectable place. The boss always insists we follow the law.”
Martin glanced at the pistol, his first impulse being to run away.
The typical response to an unpaid debt is not to sell oneself, but to flee.
But with no money, how could one escape?
Martin recalled Elena’s words and inquired, “Buddy, do the dancers at Beast House make a lot of money?”
He remembered that being a dancer was a legitimate profession and that making a living this way wasn’t disgraceful.
“On a good night, you can earn a substantial amount in tips,” Bruce assessed Martin carefully. Martin’s physique was well-proportioned and his appearance striking. Bruce’s smile grew even more affable. “Beast House is newly opened and in need of staff. You know the place; you can just go over there if you want to be a dancer. You’ve got the right looks; middle-aged women who are desperate are sure to love you. Buddy, you could make a lot of money.”
Could this be an option? Martin replied vaguely, “I’ll think about it.”
Bruce got into his vehicle and drove away.
Sounds came from the neighboring yard, where Elena’s brother, Hall, was still digging away.
Martin was preparing to track down the repairman to claim his wages and address the urgent issue of finding food. Though the free meals were satisfying, relying on them for too long would leave him without a means of sustenance.
After a moment of reflection, Martin remembered that the repairman, Max’s office was somewhat far from the Clayton community. Walking there would take a considerable amount of time, and with his leg injury, he couldn’t afford to walk long distances as it would worsen his condition and incur more expenses.
He had no choice but to take the bus.
Public transportation in Atlanta was notoriously poor, but there was one bus that went directly from Clayton Community to the street where Max’s office was located, with a one-way fare of fifty cents.
Martin pulled out his wallet, which was empty. The remaining money had been used by Harris to buy him medicine.
Dr. Bill only prescribed animal medicine, and Martin was too cautious to use it even if it was free.
Glancing at the neighboring yard, Martin abandoned the thought of robbing the boy and searched his own house instead, finding only a 25-cent coin.
Martin recalled that Elena’s father, Scott, owned a grocery store that dealt in both stolen goods and scrap. He eyed the wooden house.
The place had only the most basic furnishings: an old sofa, a low wooden table, and a rickety wooden bed. The more valuable furniture and appliances had long been taken by the Carter family in exchange for money.
The remaining items were not only shabby but also incredibly heavy.
Given his leg injury, it was impractical for Martin to carry the sofa and table to sell them. Instead, he took a pair of pliers with a damaged insulation layer from the drawer of the low wooden table, and went to the side of the yard closest to the Carter house, cutting the rusty wire fence and rolling it up.
The broken wire was sharp and cumbersome to handle. Martin went back inside, searched some more, and found a length of rope under the bed.
“Selling the Carter’s wire fence to Scott Carter should work,” Martin thought, believing it to be a minor issue. Many houses in the community had similar fences.
Suddenly, a scream pierced the air, sounding like Harris.
Martin hurried outside and briskly walked toward the Carter house.
In the Carter’s yard, a bicycle lay tipped over on the ground, with a small pit next to the front wheel, and loose dirt trickling into the pit from a collapsed piece of cardboard.
Harris sat on the ground, clutching his arm, tears streaming down his face.
Only ten-year-old Hall Carter stood in front of him, taunting, “Useless, get up, don’t be such a wimp!”
Harris retorted angrily, “Shut up, idiot! There’s a ninety percent chance my left arm is broken!”
Hall’s tone softened slightly, “I was just kidding, made a little trap. You’re too soft…”
Having seen arm fractures during his time as a stunt double, Martin examined Harris closely and said, “Tough luck, you’ve won the jackpot. Your left arm is broken.”
“Damn it!” Harris was sweating profusely from the pain.
Hall, feeling guilty, backed away and sat down on the ground.
Seeing that Harris had no other injuries, Martin said, “You need treatment. I’ll take you to Dr. Bill. You said he was skilled.”
Harris looked terrified, “Bill can’t handle fractures. The chance of ending up disabled under his care is a hundred percent.”
“Carter’s family will get an additional disability allowance!” Martin added a timely jab and reminded him, “Don’t move your left arm.”
The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and the door creaked open. Fourteen-year-old Lily Carter dashed out, asking, “What did you two idiots do? Hall, where did this damn pit come from?”
Martin cut her off, “Go notify your sister. Harris has broken his arm.”
“I’ll borrow a phone from Mrs. Woodruff,” Lily said, sprinting toward the house across the street.
Martin deliberately distracted Harris, “Back already?”
Harris gritted his teeth and replied, “The Cole sisters had an emergency and are not home.”
In a few minutes, Lily returned with a phone, saying, “Elena borrowed a car and is on her way back.”
Upon hearing Elena’s name, Hall braced himself on the ground, inching backward to avoid her.
Elena’s temporary job was not far away, and she quickly returned.
In her haste, she hadn’t even changed out of her teddy bear costume.
Upon seeing Harris’s condition, Elena pulled out her wallet to check the cash, taking out a few ones, fives, and twenties, and frantically said, “Don’t panic, I’ll figure something out. There has to be a solution!”
Having just enjoyed a week of free meals, Martin patted her shoulder, “Give me the car keys.”
Elena instinctively handed over the keys.
“Wait here. I’ll get the money,” Martin said, taking the keys and heading toward the car.
Lily Carter suddenly ran up and handed Martin the borrowed phone, “Take this. If we can’t repay the money, you can always find Elena…”
She extended her longest finger, then retracted it, and extended it again.
Martin pressed Lily’s forehead, pushing her away.
He got into the car, familiarized himself with the gear, and after a brief moment of recollection, started the car and drove out of Clayton Community, heading south.
Max’s office was located on the outskirts of Marietta’s commercial district, and the road from Clayton was old and poorly maintained, with many potholes, making it hard to drive quickly.
After half an hour, Martin arrived at a four-story office building, parked the car, and went inside. He found Max’s repair company office on the second floor, indicated by a sign.
He knocked on the door, and a burly Latin man asked, “Can I help you?”
Martin replied, “I’m one of Max’s workers. I’m here to inquire about work.”
The blinds in the inner office were pulled up, and someone called out, “Martin, come in.”
Martin entered the inner office and quickly scanned the room. Various-sized teddy bears were displayed on the showcase, shelves, and even the desk, where two family photos featured large teddy bears as the backdrop.
The photographs showed a family of four, all smiling with happiness.
It was a warm and harmonious family, clearly fond of teddy bears.
Being observant and shrewd, Martin noticed other details as well.
On the edge of the wooden desk piled with documents, there were traces of white powder. Max, middle-aged, had a few inconspicuous white specks on his nose hairs and a reddened, bloodshot appearance.
Martin, accustomed to such individuals from his past, like Scott and Emma Carter, saw through it all.
Max, slightly agitated, asked, “Has your injury healed?”
Martin replied, “My head still feels heavy and occasionally painful, and my leg also hurts.”
“You’re here to collect your wages, I understand,” Max said, opening the large middle drawer and pulling out a cash check, which he handed to Martin. “Here you go.”
Comments (0)
See all