Day 53

Something

All of this is true. It started when my landlord blackmailed me to make him jell-o. At first, I didn’t take I as blackmail, but it became more and more apparent. It started on Christmas Day, I was waiting in the apartment for my mother and sister to come and grab me so that we could go together to a grandparents in a close by suburb of Chicago. My two roommates had already made it to their respective homes and I thought I would be left to killing time until I heard a knock at the back door. My landlord normally has the look of a wrinkled hound dog, and Christmas was no different, but the way he scrunched his face in shock and confusion made his head like hard, and knotty, like the side of a tree.

“I thought nobody would be here.” Is what he told me. He walked into my kitchen with a clear spray bottle with some form of bug killer and began to spray around the molding and beneath the dishwasher and refrigerator.

“As a Jew, I figured everybody would be gone. “ He went to the bathroom and sprayed around too. I sniffed at the air to see if I could catch the scent of whatever debugger he was spreading around my apartment. I couldn’t catch anything, for all I know it could be water, and he could be doing this all the time without us knowing. “You do have somewhere to go right?”

“Yeah, my mom and sister are on their way.” It was a half truth. My mother had said that they would come swing by on Christmas for me like they always did. I hadn’t called them yet, hadn’t even taken a shower, and stood just outside of the bathroom in gym shorts while Sam, is my landlord’s name, rounded out and walked into the living spraying the floor around him with each step.

“Well, I’m going to be heading to a Christian friend of mine later on tonight for the celebration. They made jell-o, it’s the only thing I’ll eat.” He said and finished, tagging the gap at the bottom of the front door with plenty of his scentless mist.

“Oh no, I’m fine.” I assured him. “They’re coming soon, an hour, I think.”

“Well if you’re still in need of a place to be in two hours time let me know, I’ll swing by again.” Sam hadn’t made eye contact with me the entire time he had been in my apartment and he still didn’t as he lingered in the back again.

“Thank you,” I said, “really, but they’ll be here. I appreciate it Sam and next time you come by I’ll return the favor with some jell-o.”

“Oh,” his tone was surprised and it caused his arm to stutter as he got close to shutting the door. “I hope so.”

A month passes and I do not hear from Landlord Sam and I spend a lot of time with Girlfriend Sam. I like girlfriend Sam much more than the other, for reasons that can’t be stated so openly as in a short story. It is around this time that we come to realize that our “roommate” Angela won’t be able to go another year with us in the apartment. We collectively agreed to work for an extension of the lease by two months in order for it to coincide with the end of the school term, at the end of May. As a group we run this by Sam the Landlord who says that he’ll “get back to us about it all.”

Another week goes by not too much else to say.

We receive a group of calls from Sam asking us individually if we want to make the deal official. We all say yes. He keeps me on the line for a while.

“I wanted to ask you on the condition of the deal that was promised back in December.”

Its halfway through January and it takes me a moment to remember.

“The jell-o? You want me to make you jell-o?”

“Well there was an oral contract made and I am asking that it be brought back to attention between the two parties.”

It takes a minute for my mouth to find the right groupings of words to say. I decide to be light hearted about it.

“Yeah, sure Sam. I’ll get the jell-o, if it’ll grease the wheels to extend the lease.”

“This will be taken under consideration. “

We said goodbye, and I forgot about it instantly, like finding a quarter and then dropping it into a storm drain.

Four days later I receive two voicemails that I don’t listen till a few hours after I receive them.

“This message is for Jon and is in regards to the conversation about an oral contract from December. I would like to know our current status and would like you know that I brought it up last time only in the nature of bringing it back into the fold. There doesn’t need to be any prodding, and the act will not grease any wheels.” It went on for five minutes like that.

I decide to make the jell-o that day, because I have no idea what I will be dealing with next. I go to the big Mexican grocery on Milwaukee across the street from a McDonalds and grab supplies, lime-flavored, grape-flavored, and cherry-flavored, an eggplant, some cocoa pebbles, and all the essentials for guacamole. These last few are for myself. While I’m in there I see a fist fight between an older Mexican gentleman in a teal sweater vest and young black man. They hold on to each others clothes and grunt, the Spanish man throwing powerful shots towards the black man’s head. One of the short butchers from the Deli runs out and tries to put his body between the two of them. The small distance seems to fizzle out the fire in the Spanish man and the black youth rips his shirt off, proclaims that “They should step outside” and then whips the empty basket of a nearby customer down an aisle. The butcher walks him out. I pay for my things and he’s not outside when I get there and I hadn’t seen the Spanish man since the butcher pulled them apart.

I get back to my place and make a three-layer jello mold in an old pot I used mainly for pasta. I tended to use Angela’s bowls to make things, but I didn’t know when or if Sam would give it back so I used the pot. While each layer set I made guacamole. I telephoned Sam, girlfriend Sam, and asked her to come over, and then phoned Landlord Sam to let him know that the jell-o was ready. He told me he would be over the next day. I wrapped up the jell-o in plastic wrap, pot and all and attached a slip of paper with this written, To: Sam, in big, black sharpie. I left it in the fridge and when Girlfriend Sam made it to my place we hung out for a bit and went to sleep.

We sleep in late the next morning because I don’t have class and she doesn’t go to work until two. We both wake up to my phone going off.

“I just wanted to let you know that I got the jell-o” There is the sound of traffic behind his call.

“Oh,” I say and pull on boxers to get to the fridge. The jell-o is gone. He took it while we were asleep.

“Oh, good.” I say.

“The contract has been completed. I thank you.”

I didn’t get the pot back for a month.