It was hot. A typical August heatwave and Los Angeles would part her legs for no pleasure tonight and the humidity she bore was unbearable for anyone else to sleep with.
Grifter got up and opened the sliding glass door to the balcony. He was finally able to open the windows and balcony doors again now that he’d solved the problem of the old bat across the way.
About six months ago, he’d asked her to kindly turn down her television. It wasn’t that he minded she was most likely deaf and had to have it on loudly to hear, it was the fact that she never turned it off. It was almost as if the three a.m. infomercials needed to be turned up even louder so that she could order that Nordovac system and God forbid you couldn’t hear the evangelists at the crack of a Sunday dawn.
Upon asking her to turn down the television after ten p.m. like any other law biding citizen, she told him to fuck off. He didn’t react except with a nod of the head and pivoted slowly toward the step off her porch back down the walk way to his apartment as he cast his own voodoo spells cursing her for the rest of her deaf life.
When she continued and now, with a vengeance, to listen to the television at decibels so loud the whole block must have heard it over their own episodes of drama, he called the police. The police, after seeing a kindly old lady, told Grifter to give it a break. Grifter again nodded and shut his door as the police descended down the stairs to the walkway.
No one ever visited the old bat. She was unpleasant and Grifter surmised that anyone in her family had probably disowned her long ago. He curiously watched her movements as he’d decoy himself by washing his 1963 Caddillac, taking out trash, or by smoking a cigarette on the back balcony. He made himself familiar with her patterns, even her favorite television shows. Then, when comfortable with her Thursday grocery store run, he took his tool kit to the side of her apartment.
With three nails secured in his lips, he passed the Mexican neighbor he always seemed to run into when things looked peculiar. However, the older gentlemen never really questioned Grifter and merely nodded back as a hello while Grifter passed by to the back of the neighbor’s building. Hammering could be heard and the neighbor retreated into his home. On various occasions he’d been caught in crossfire when Grifter was meandering around, he decided it was safer to avoid a potentially harmful situation and proceeded to make a quesadilla in the kitchen while Grifter, the crazy Gringo neighbor, hammered a repair in the back.
Grifter slyly smirked and nodded at his subtle cure. He’d nailed the windows shut. He’d broken into her apartment, gone in her bedroom and tested the sound levels of her television, agilely going back outside and stepping a few feet back to listen. In the alleyway and along pathway he could hear nothing, not even a hum of the static from her rabbit ears. Pleased with himself, he added one extra nail for good measure.
#
As usual whenever Grifter found himself at peace, playing video games, listening to electronic music, someone, always, always knocked on the door.
He watched the video camera flicker onto the television and noticed it was Merit. After a short debate as to whether or not to get up, Merit continued to knock and yell, “I know you’re in there.” Grifter decided the heist was up and walked slowly toward the door, carefully unlatching five locks and a chain, then peering to confirm the guest, and opening the metal screen door.
Merit burst in.
“Dude, what’s going on with the fire truck downstairs?”
“Heat probably burned down a house.” Grifter said, then came an unusual knot in his stomach. He went to the front balcony and saw an ambulance pull up. An hour later a coroner pulled up and a gurney was escorted to the van.
When he took out his trash later in the week, he ran into the Mexican neighbor.
“Did you see what happened to the old lady?” He asked Grifter.
“No, I saw an ambulance the other day though.”
“Yeah, the old bat was watching television in her room and died of heat stroke. Apparently, she called her family and told them her fan was broken and she couldn’t open her windows but no one took her seriously. Looks like they were nailed shut. ” Grifter closed the lid to the dumpster, nodded at the compadre, and walked back to his apartment with a sense of relief and remorse.
Grifter got up and opened the sliding glass door to the balcony. He was finally able to open the windows and balcony doors again now that he’d solved the problem of the old bat across the way.
About six months ago, he’d asked her to kindly turn down her television. It wasn’t that he minded she was most likely deaf and had to have it on loudly to hear, it was the fact that she never turned it off. It was almost as if the three a.m. infomercials needed to be turned up even louder so that she could order that Nordovac system and God forbid you couldn’t hear the evangelists at the crack of a Sunday dawn.
Upon asking her to turn down the television after ten p.m. like any other law biding citizen, she told him to fuck off. He didn’t react except with a nod of the head and pivoted slowly toward the step off her porch back down the walk way to his apartment as he cast his own voodoo spells cursing her for the rest of her deaf life.
When she continued and now, with a vengeance, to listen to the television at decibels so loud the whole block must have heard it over their own episodes of drama, he called the police. The police, after seeing a kindly old lady, told Grifter to give it a break. Grifter again nodded and shut his door as the police descended down the stairs to the walkway.
No one ever visited the old bat. She was unpleasant and Grifter surmised that anyone in her family had probably disowned her long ago. He curiously watched her movements as he’d decoy himself by washing his 1963 Caddillac, taking out trash, or by smoking a cigarette on the back balcony. He made himself familiar with her patterns, even her favorite television shows. Then, when comfortable with her Thursday grocery store run, he took his tool kit to the side of her apartment.
With three nails secured in his lips, he passed the Mexican neighbor he always seemed to run into when things looked peculiar. However, the older gentlemen never really questioned Grifter and merely nodded back as a hello while Grifter passed by to the back of the neighbor’s building. Hammering could be heard and the neighbor retreated into his home. On various occasions he’d been caught in crossfire when Grifter was meandering around, he decided it was safer to avoid a potentially harmful situation and proceeded to make a quesadilla in the kitchen while Grifter, the crazy Gringo neighbor, hammered a repair in the back.
Grifter slyly smirked and nodded at his subtle cure. He’d nailed the windows shut. He’d broken into her apartment, gone in her bedroom and tested the sound levels of her television, agilely going back outside and stepping a few feet back to listen. In the alleyway and along pathway he could hear nothing, not even a hum of the static from her rabbit ears. Pleased with himself, he added one extra nail for good measure.
#
As usual whenever Grifter found himself at peace, playing video games, listening to electronic music, someone, always, always knocked on the door.
He watched the video camera flicker onto the television and noticed it was Merit. After a short debate as to whether or not to get up, Merit continued to knock and yell, “I know you’re in there.” Grifter decided the heist was up and walked slowly toward the door, carefully unlatching five locks and a chain, then peering to confirm the guest, and opening the metal screen door.
Merit burst in.
“Dude, what’s going on with the fire truck downstairs?”
“Heat probably burned down a house.” Grifter said, then came an unusual knot in his stomach. He went to the front balcony and saw an ambulance pull up. An hour later a coroner pulled up and a gurney was escorted to the van.
When he took out his trash later in the week, he ran into the Mexican neighbor.
“Did you see what happened to the old lady?” He asked Grifter.
“No, I saw an ambulance the other day though.”
“Yeah, the old bat was watching television in her room and died of heat stroke. Apparently, she called her family and told them her fan was broken and she couldn’t open her windows but no one took her seriously. Looks like they were nailed shut. ” Grifter closed the lid to the dumpster, nodded at the compadre, and walked back to his apartment with a sense of relief and remorse.
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