Just an Ordinary Day: Stories Read online

  Shax, Asmodeus, Baal, and Co. Realtors

  Dear Mrs. Tuttle,

  In reference to the apartment 3C at 101 Eastern Square, subleased in your name from Mr. J. T. Maloney, we are sorry to be in a position to inform you that your sublease having expired, we have no choice but to inform you that your sublease on apartment 3C at 101 Eastern Square is no longer valid, and we shall expect to recover said premises on October 1st of this year, that being the date upon when your sublease expires. We are sorry to inform you that if you do not vacate said premises before said date we shall have to service upon you first warning of a notice of eviction.

  Yours extremely cordially,

  B. H. Shax, Executive Vice President

  101 Eastern Square

  Monday

  Dear Helen,

  This just came. What shall I do?

  Desperately,

  Marian

  95 Martin Lane

  Wednesday

  Dear Marian,

  Hang on, if you can. Because we have trouble enough of our own—it turns out the owner of this apartment can’t stand children and just because some old grouch complained about Butchie’s tricycle in the halls, and anyway it’s their own fault if the old halls are so dark, anyway, the landlord is being real nasty about it. So whatever you do do, don’t let go of that apartment—we may be coming back.

  Best,

  Helen

  36 Elm St.

  Thursday

  Dear Miss Griswold,

  I am very sorry to keep bothering you like this, but the lady in the apartment down the hall here says that you owe her a dollar and sixty-five cents for a C.O.D. package which you never paid her, and I tried to give her your new address but she said she wanted the money so I had to give her the dollar sixty-five, which I am afraid left me rather pressed, since the rent here is higher than I was paying my sister when I lived with her. So I would be grateful if you could send it along. Also the bottom of your bookcase fell out and I tried to put it back but didn’t do much of a job on it. And I’m sorry but I burned a hole in the top of your coffee table.

  How are you getting along in your new place? I think I know where I can borrow a car and anytime you want your furniture I’d be glad to bring it over. Just let me know.

  Sincerely,

  Allan Burlingame

  Thurs.

  Dear Miss, Landlord came over today and made me let him into 3C to see if it was evicted and so here is your five back because I couldn’t keep him out.

  Charles E. Murphy (janitor)

  Shax, Asmodeus, Baal, and Co. Realtors

  Dear Mrs. Tuttle,

  Thank you for leaving so promptly after my letter. We must now only trouble you for the amount ($65.75) of last month’s rent.

  Most extremely cordially,

  B. H. Shax

  101 Eastern Square

  Friday

  Dear Mr. Shax,

  You were misinformed. The Tuttles have moved, but I have taken over this apartment with their permission. Enclosed is my check for the month’s rent. Every human being has the right to shelter. Indians live in tents, Eskimos live in igloos, dogs live in kennels, and I am living here.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  Shax, Asmodeus, Baal, and Co. Realtors

  Dear Miss Griswold,

  Enclosed is your check for last month’s rent of apartment 3C at 101 Eastern Square because we are returning it. If you are interested in the possibilities of renting a kennel or an igloo, I suggest you consult with some real estate firm that handles that type of business. Our firm handles only apartments, and since you are not the legal resident of the apartment at 101 Eastern Square you cannot pay the rent. Since you believe that you are the legal resident of the apartment you may consider this as first warning of notice to evict.

  Most extremely cordially,

  B. H. Shax

  101 Eastern Square

  Wednesday

  Dear Mr. Burlingame,

  Bring over all my furniture as fast as you can. I intend to stay in this apartment until a gentleman named B. H. Shax comes personally and carries me out into the street, and that is going to be harder than he things, because I am not an easy person to carry down three flights of stairs.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  36 Elm St.

  Thursday

  Dear Bill,

  Will you get together my stuff and bring it over as soon as you can? I’m finally getting this dame’s stuff out of the place. Thank heaven,

  Al

  10 Oliver

  Friday

  Dear Timmy,

  Sorry, but I’m afraid I’ll be needing my furniture and things. Al wants his back because he is getting rid of the stuff that girl left in his place.

  Bill

  1249 Jones St.

  Saturday

  Dear Mom, would you mind sending along as soon as possible the bed and chairs and stuff you said once I could have? On account of the guy who owns the furniture in this apartment wants it. Can I have the little radio too? Will write soon.

  Love,

  Timmy

  101 Eastern Square

  Monday

  Dear Mr. Shax,

  I am enclosing again my check for last month’s rent on this apartment. I have spoken to Mrs. Tuttle and she believes that her sublease gives her the right to sub-sublease, although it does not allow her to open a vegetable stand on the sidewall, keep mockingbirds, or advertise clairvoyant readings in the front windows. So you can consider me as having sub-sublet the apartment and I suggest you keep the check.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  Shax, Asmodeus, Baal, and Co. Realtors

  Dear Miss Griswold,

  Enclosed please find your check for $65.75 to cover the rent for one month on apartment 3C at 101 Eastern Square. Since you are not the legal resident of this apartment it would not be legal for us to accept this check. Mrs. Tuttle is mistaken. Her lease gives her every right to keep mockingbirds, but none whatsoever to sub-sublet.

  Most extremely cordially,

  B. H. Shax

  P.S. Please consider this as second warning of notice to evict.

  101 Eastern Square

  Friday

  Dear Mr. Shax,

  If I am not the legal resident of the apartment you cannot evict me. You cannot evict Mrs. Tuttle, who is the legal resident of the apartment, because she is not living here. Unless you accept my check you are not going to receive any rent for the apartment at all because you cannot rent it to anyone else while I am living here because you cannot evict me so they could move in. Mrs. Tuttle will not pay the rent because she is not living here.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  95 Martin Lane

  Friday

  Marian dear,

  I’m really awfully sorry, but I’m afraid we’re coming back. To the apartment, I mean. They definitely won’t let us stay here with Butchie, and they don’t much like the dog, either. We figure there’s no use fighting just to keep an old apartment we’re not crazy about, so back we come. I’m really terribly sorry about your moving and all, but you do understand, don’t you?

  Love,

  Helen

  Shax, Asmodeus, Baal, and Co. Realtors

  Dear Miss Griswold,

  I am not a hard-hearted man, and even though the real estate business is one of dog-eat-dog you must try to understand that it is only because the real estate business is like that, that we frequently seem to be unpleasant and hard-hearted. I could not sleep nights if I put a young girl out onto the street to starve. I am not really a hard-hearted man, so you may keep the apartment. Will you please forward by return mail your check for last month’s rent on apartment 3C at 101 Eastern Square plus your check for next month’s rent and a signed statement to the effect that you will not sub-sub-sublet. I assume that you have no intention of opening a sidewalk vegetable stand, keeping dogs or children, hanging
pictures on the walls, making unnecessary noise, leaving garbage in the hall, blocking the stairway or the elevator, putting scratches on the floors, renting rooms for money, or opening any business for profit on the premises. As I say, I am not a hardhearted man, and I could not sleep nights if I had to forcibly evict you.

  Most extremely cordially,

  B. H. Shax

  101 Eastern Square

  Tuesday

  Dear Mr. Burlingame,

  This is a terrible thing to do, but I guess I will have to have my old apartment back, and just as everything was all right here, too. The people I got this one from want it back because they can’t stay in their new place with a baby. So don’t bring over my furniture. I’ll probably be wanting to come back next week sometime.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  36 Elm St.

  Wednesday

  Dear Bill,

  Never mind about the stuff. The dame wants the place back.

  Al

  10 Oliver

  Thursday

  Dear Timmy,

  I won’t be needing my furniture for a while yet. Al got kicked out of his apartment by the dame who’s coming back.

  Bill

  1249 Jones St.

  Friday

  Dear Mom,

  It’s O.K. about the furniture. Hope you haven’t already sent it, because I won’t be needing it now. Will write soon.

  Love,

  Timmy

  36 Elm St.

  Friday

  Dear Felicia,

  I am sure you will forgive my taking this method of asking you this question, when you realize how much it means to me, and how whenever I am with you I find it impossible to gather my courage to speak. I know that you have for a long time been aware of my feelings for you, and if by some lucky chance you feel the same way about me, it would certainly be wonderful.

  Could you possibly consider becoming my wife? We would have to live with your family for a while until we found an apartment, but as you know, I have a good job with good prospects and it would be the ambition of my life to support you in a comfortable fashion, and of course for a while we would save money on rent.

  Please let me know at once. You will make me the happiest of men.

  Your own,

  Allan

  95 Martin Lane

  Monday

  Marian dear,

  The most wonderful thing has happened, and just wait till you hear. You know we are being thrown out of this apartment and honestly I was just desperate, but then last Sunday we went out to Connecticut to visit Eve Crawley and her new husband—you remember Eve, don’t you? With that amazing hair?—and what do you think? We just by pure blind luck found the most adorable little cottage for sale, and well, to make a long story short, we grabbed all our money on the spot and made a down payment on it, and we removing in next week. What do you think of that? It’s got four rooms and of course there’s some work to be done around the place—putting in a bathroom and whatnot, and fixing one corner of the roof, but Bill can do that nights when he comes home, because of course he’ll have to commute, and there’s nearly an acre of ground, and the loveliest old trees, and I’m going to drive him to the station every morning and meet him every night, and then during the day I can do the painting and papering around the house. And it cost only sixteen thousand, with the most miserable down payment, and we can take the rest of our lives to pay off the mortgage, if we want to—the bank was terribly nice about it. Aren’t you jealous of us, living in the country? And of course you’ll come and visit us just every chance you get, and we can all have loads of fun getting together and fixing the place up. Must go now—we’re signing the last papers this afternoon.

  Love,

  Helen

  101 Eastern Square

  Tuesday

  Dear Mr. Burlingame,

  If you still want my apartment you can have it. Heaven has just passed a miracle in my favor.

  Sincerely,

  Marian Griswold

  36 Elm St.

  Wednesday

  Dear Bill…

  10 Oliver

  Thursday

  Dear Timmy….

  1249 Jones

  Friday

  Dear Mom….

  16 Arden’s Court

  Saturday

  Dear Allan,

  I can’t tell you how pleased and flattered and happy I was at your letter, and I guess you knew all the time what I would say when you finally got around to asking me. Of course I will marry you, and I thinly it’s wonderful.

  Mother and Dad are also very happy at the idea and Dad says that now that their last child is getting married it’s time for them to move back to California, where they always wanted to be, anyway. So they are going to let us have this apartment and most of the furniture as a wedding present, and even though twelve rooms might be a little large for us at first, we can always manage to use the space for giving parties and such. Mother says come for dinner tomorrow night and we can talk it over.

  Love, from your

  Felicia

  THE VERY HOT SUN IN BERMUDA

  IT WAS THE FIRST false summer of the college year, the time when the lawns first come out green and the sky is first really blue; the apple trees had chosen to occupy themselves with faint pink blossoms; the campus buildings were beginning to look old and dusty and red between the fresh trees and the really blue sky. In another week it might be snowing again, with the sudden treacherous weather that goes with spring dances and precommencement engagement parties, and ends, finally, in a blaze of heat and lethargy, with final exams and the last tortured words of the term paper.

  It was Saturday; Katie Collins had spent all morning in the sun, starting the tan on her long legs and smooth back; by fall she would be startlingly brown, and could wear white evening dresses to set it off. Walking across campus, she watched her legs, still a little tan from last year, perhaps faintly reddened by this morning’s sun. Ought to have a black bathing suit this year, she was thinking, strapless, two-piece, make the men whistle when I go along the beach. Thinking of the men whistling made her smile while she walked. Hot sun, hot sand; in another month she would be swimming, playing tennis, dancing, sailing; thinking about it made the sun seem hotter already; or green, she reflected, I could get a wicked green bathing suit, green is always good on me.

  She was wearing yellow shorts, in honor of the sun, and she felt appropriate to the grass and the trees; walking across campus, it suddenly occurred to her that the next spring, unlike this spring and last spring and the one before that, she would spend somewhere else; married, probably, she thought, I ought to get married right after I graduate; girls like me aren’t safe single. She smiled again at the quiet campus. Everyone was studying, or sunbathing, or lying around drinking Cokes; no one was walking outdoors except Katie.

  Maybe not go home at all, she decided, just go off somewhere like Bermuda for a honeymoon. It made her laugh to think of herself lying in the very hot sun in Bermuda while some of her friends were still in college.

  Tall and long-legged and alone, she walked quickly across the campus to where the grass ended and the ground sloped down to a brook; turning, she followed the brook a little way until she came in sight of a small one-story building set back from the trees along the brook. Then she began to walk more slowly, stopping to look down at the brook, putting her hands in her pockets to saunter along until something far off caught her attention; when she was very close to the building she said, “Hi!” She waited for a minute, and then went over and tapped imperatively on the window next to the door. “Hi,” she said again.

  She waited for another minute, and then the key turned and the door opened. “Keep you waiting?” Katie said cheerfully. She walked up to the door and stood against the doorway, smiling. “You been waiting long?” she demanded.

  “Please come in,” the man said.

  “No one’s around,” Katie said, but she went inside and closed the door be
hind her. The windows made the studio very light, and on this sunny day there was a rich pale glow in the room that touched the colors on the pictures around the wall, and brightened completely the canvas on the easel, a still life of an apple, a book, and a copper candlestick. Katie walked over to a bench along one wall and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I’m worn out,” she said. “I ran most of the way.”

  “You didn’t look it, coming along the path.”

  Katie laughed, regarding her long legs approvingly. “I was teasing you,” she said.

  “You didn’t even look at the picture,” he said.

  Katie stood up leisurely and came over to look at the still life on the easel. “Gets prettier every day,” she said, “and so do you.” She turned around and looked at him critically. “But you look so sad.” She went over and pulled childishly at the sleeve of his old corduroy jacket, and he looked at her quickly and then back at the picture.

  “Why wouldn’t I be sad?” he said. He gestured at the picture. “I’ve been working at it all day.”

  “It looks swell,” Katie said. “Honestly, I think it looks fine.”

  He rubbed his hand wearily across his long, thin forehead. When he smiled at her, finally, his face seemed more helpless, with a sort of sullen intention at helplessness. He took her hand, and said, “I needed you to come.”

  “Well, I’m here,” Katie said. “And the picture’s okay.” She pulled away from him and started to walk around the room, her hands in her pockets. “You’ve changed things around again,” she said. When there was no answer she said sharply, “Peter, wake up! I said you’ve been changing things around again.”