| Chapter 4 |
| The Book of Je |
 |
| The din of voices and ringing phones in the background informed Joe of a remarkable increase in activity at the non-profit Bricking Employment Agency. Enid sighed. "What's the bad news?" "You know the public schools in California? All closed. Reseda High is locked up." "Oh dear god, they did it!" she exclaimed. "Who did what?" "It's because there's no state budget, right? The legislature is trying to embarrass the governor just five days before the election." "Trying to?" "It was going to happen," Enid moaned. "The legislature came up with four different budgets over the last ten months and the governor vetoed all of them. This'll knock that lazy moron out of the governor's mansion." "Uh, yeah, yeah," Joe agreed. "But that's not the bad news I was referring to. The bad news is that I'm not working. Worse, the kids aren't learning." "Well, Honey, if it makes you feel any better, I stand to make even more overtime than I did last week. This place is like a sardine can." "And that's gonna help kids learn how?" "Point taken. What's the good news?" "I have to tell you that in person," Joe replied drolly. "Come home as soon as you can. Like now." "It's 10:30." "Take your lunch particularly early today. You, um, you won't regret it." "Does this have to do with Sam and/or Glenda?" "In a way. Like I said, it's time for lunch." "I'm not really hungry, but okay. I'll be there in twenty." "Love you," enthused Joe. "Love you right back," Enid said before hanging up. The receiver went back to its cradle and Joe immediately started another prayer. "Dear God, thank you for making it possible for my wife to come home, despite all the busyness at the agency. Please help all the people searching for work to find worthy, well-paying jobs. Thank you once again for this winning lottery ticket. Please guide me as I search for productive, positive ways to use the money. And please help the kids barred from school to stay out of trouble. Let them find space on a basketball court or playground, or a book to read at the library. Something along those lines. Even a video game. Or DVDs. Maybe today would be a good day for kids to discover some of those extras on DVDs like when the actors and directors talk about the film while it's running or the documentaries about the making of the films that usually come on the discs. Those could certainly entertain and teach while the kids stay safe. And please continue to look after my neighbors. Keep them from harm, both physical and psychological. Please don't let them come back as mindless, overly patriotic vegetables. Amen." Joe printed out the web page with the winning lottery numbers to show Enid when she arrived. He then called the Senior Center on Victory. The phone rang several times. "Hello?" "Hello, Judy?" "Joe? Is that you?" Like many of the elderly, Judy Gezzi spoke a little too loudly to compensate for hearing a little too softly. "Yeah. Listen, when I was there on Saturday-" "Are you at the high school? They're all closed." Her rose jumped an octave on the last sentence. Joe chuckled. "I'm at home for the reason you specified. Listen, when I was there on Saturday, Dwayne mentioned some kind of money problems for the center." "Not some kind, Joe. All kinds. No money from the county or state, so that means no money for meals, no money for activities. It's just like with your school. Hell, I shouldn't even be here. I'm manning the phone, but the only light in this room comes from a flashlight with batteries that my grandson gave me as a birthday present." "So I couldn't even come in this Saturday." "You could," Judy speculated, "if you knocked the door down with your truck, or you smashed open the door with a crowbar. But there's almost nothing here for you to cook. You couldn't wash dishes 'cause the city cut off the water. And you'd have to bring your own light source, but not candles because they might set off the sprinklers." "Who said I own a truck?" wondered Joe. "I don't own a truck. And how could the sprinklers go off if there's no water?" "Don't sprinklers go off anyway? Doesn't the city want to stop fires before they swallow up buildings and fire trucks need to be called in?" "Maybe. Okay. Well, thanks, Judy. It's been informative." "So you coming in on Saturday again?" "Are you gonna be there?" "Sure, but I can't let you in. But you can call me from outside on your cell phone. We can talk." "Great, great," Joe said, ignoring the lack of logic in Judy's offer. "We'll talk on Saturday then, if not sooner." The next call connected Joe to Reseda's Eat Here, Sleep Here, the only homeless shelter in the west valley. "Eat Here, Sleep Here." "Gladys?" asked Joe. "Joe?" asked Gladys. "How are things at the shelter?" "Weren't you here on Sunday?" "I was," Joe responded, "and I was worried by what I saw." "What did you see? Was it the same as what I saw?" "I don't know. What did you see?" "What did you see?" Joe flinched. "Okay. I saw lots of bugs. Not roaches, but almost everything else. Moths, spiders, earwigs, ants, flies�" Gladys exhaled. "Do you know what exterminators cost?" "So it's an issue with money?" "Isn't it always?" "And the pantry was very low on groceries. I've never seen it so empty." "Have you tried getting food donations in this climate? With everyone hoarding supplies because they fear a war is coming?" "War with who?" "Shall I go down the list? Mexico? Canada? Europe? China?" "That's quite a list," Joe said, rubbing his forehead. "So the lack of donated clothes and new socks and new underwear, that's due to war fears and hoarding?" "Doesn't it make sense?" "Unfortunately, yes. Okay. Uh, thanks, Gladys. This has been an education." "Are you coming on Sunday?" "I'm gonna try." "Tell Enid I said hi?" "Sure. Bye, Gladys." After hanging up, Joe rubbed his eyes. His son, Sam, had mentioned tensions between the U.S. and almost every other country, but war? What would that look like? Ground troops? Nuclear? What good would stuffing the basement or garage with staples be if everything vaporized? A cup of hot green tea prepared in a mug with two long familiar divots in the rim soothed Joe's nerves slightly. As he began the process of sitting down on the amber sofa in the living room to fully enjoy his drink, Enid entered. She tossed her purse recklessly toward the dining room table. "You should find a better place for your bicycle. And just to warn you," she said dispassionately, "it doesn't matter how great your news is, I'm not up for any nookie." "That's fine. I appreciate your honesty," Joe replied as he stood and went to retrieve the two life-changing pieces of paper. He handed his wife the lottery ticket first. "I didn't buy this. I found this on the floor in my classroom this morning." He then held up the print-out of the winning lottery numbers. Enid remained still for several minutes. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Oh, God." "Would you like to sit down?" Joe cupped Enid's elbow in his hand and led her to the sofa. Her gaze reluctantly broke away from the documents. "How did this happen?" "I really don't know." Joe took the space next to her. "I think, well, I'm assuming someone slipped it under the door to my classroom, maybe as a thank-you gift. It came in an envelope with no return address and no postage." "This is one incredible way to say thank-you!" Enid's eyes flared. "Do we get the entire $364 million?" "No," Joe casually answered. "If it was an annuity broken up into twenty payments for twenty years, then yes. But this is a straight payment, so most likely we'll get about half. $182 million, probably." Enid forgot to breathe. It wasn't until Joe bumped her while taking a sip of tea that she resumed the intake of oxygen. "$182 million. Joe, we can bring Glenda and Sam back!" Joe froze, stunned by this proposal. "Um, well, we could certainly make the gesture." Enid seemed insulted. "What does that mean?" "Sweetheart," Joe began carefully, "they left the U.S. to take jobs that they really wanted. They weren't forced out." "Now we can buy each of them their own companies," Enid said loudly. "They have to come back." "Uh, again, you can offer them that option. But even if they decide to stay where they are, we now have the ability to visit them whenever we want. Well, you do. I'd have to wait until summer or spring or winter breaks." Enid gasped a quick laugh. "You're keeping your job?" "Mm-hmmm," Joe nodded while having another drink. "Sure." "I'm not. In fact," Enid declared as she rose, "I'm calling right now and telling them that I am never coming back." Her concerned husband shadowed her to the phone. "Bu- but Enid, wh- what about your co-workers? What about all the clients that need your help? You can't just suddenly abandon them!" Enid choked the receiver in her right hand and stared hard into Joe's eyes. "I can afford to do anything I want." Joe's hands ballooned from his cheeks in frustration. "Give them two weeks notice! C'mon! I mean, how would you feel if Dawn or Brian did this to you? Just walked out?" The raised upper lip on his wife's face meant contemplation. "Okay. All right, Joe. You're right. But I am going to call in sick for the rest of the day. I'll give notice tomorrow." "Thank you." Joe stepped back and rejoined his tea while Enid conveyed to Dawn that she just wasn't feeling chipper enough to return to work. After hanging up, Enid yipped, "I wanted to scream, 'I'm a millionaire!' Now, Glenda and Sam. What if we told them in person? 'Hi honey! Guess what?' New luggage! Our luggage is twelve years old and only one piece has wheels. I want a huge trunk that has drawers and a mirror and is watertight. They never sink. And every drawer should have new clothes, new make-up, new toiletries, a new laptop! I'll get an account where I can send e-mail like a cell phone call anywhere in the world! And a portable DVD player, with lots of DVDs to watch on the long flights. I can finally watch all the James Bond movies in the order they were made. I'll see every episode of 'I Love Lucy' and 'The Lucy Show' and 'Here's Lucy'. Maybe there's a way I can e-mail my favorite clips to people. What?" The rim of Joe's mug continued to rest on Joe's lower lip, his eyebrows so high as to brush his hairline. He coughed, lowered the cup, and wiped his mouth, breaking his gaze on Enid. "You could send the clips to our neighbors as they sit in prison," he sputtered. "Have you forgotten about them? Have you forgotten that kids are drifting in the streets or stuck in their homes? And that I don't have a job for who knows how long? I called the senior center earlier; they're closed. The shelter is close to closing. You know, it seems to me," Joe took a very long pause, "they could use the money more than us." Enid's eyelids slammed down in disbelief. "I'm not giving all of this money away, Joe. Ten percent. We're only obligated to tithe ten percent. Eighteen million. The shelter, the center, the neighbors, the schools, they'll do fine on eighteen million!" Joe looked all around the room, as if searching for something recognizable. His eyes latched back on to Enid. "What are you going to do with a hundred and sixty four million dollars?" His wife appeared nervous as she answered, "I'm going to have fun." "An- And you can't have fun with a million? That's, uh, errrrr, fifty times more than we have now." The woman's shoulders drooped. Chin rested on chest. Knees gave slightly. "I lost my neighbors, my children, and my grandchildren this morning. Then you told me we've been handed a hundred and eighty two million dollars, and� and� and now I'm embarrassed." Enid twirled her hands briefly. "I'm sorry. Temporary insanity. Thanks, Joe. I'm lucky to have you." Joe crossed to her for a hug. "And a million dollars." Strangely, she did not extend her arms. "Five million." Joe stopped a few inches from her. "Five? Please. What can you get for five million bucks that you can't get for one million?" "Five times the security and peace of mind," Enid said simply. "How about three times the� whatever you just said?" Joe shrugged. "Five. I'm going to be firm about this. Our grandchildren will need a million each just to get through college." Joe pretended he received a blow to the ribs. "Ouch! Education expenses! You know just where to hit me. Fine, fine. Five." With a severe lunge, Enid gripped the strap of her purse and tugged it onto her shoulder. "So where do we go to cash this sucker in?" "Are we in a hurry?" Joe queried as he watched Enid approach the front door. "Yes, we are. It's almost eleven, and I want to take you out to lunch with our winnings." "Oh. Lunch. Yeah, that'd be nice. But let's keep it under a hundred thousand, all right?" Enid unexpectedly guffawed. Joe would never hear her laugh that sincerely again. |
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