Pulling into the driveway I'm not sure I'm in the right
home, or even neighborhood. Half the homes look like small cheap places but a
few blocks away there are huge homes with pools. This one is the largest for at
least three blocks, but looks to be neglected. The grass is almost to my knees
despite the rest of the neatly manicured yards on the block. There’re a few
pieces of siding starting to sag away from the house. Those will need to be
fixed before winter comes. It might even need some insulation.
I knew the house would be in bad shape when I agreed to move
in here, but the rent was so cheap. All I have to pay is $100, do the yard
work, clean and make repairs around the house. To be honest, it looks better
than I thought it would. My dad was a handyman so I was forced to follow him on
jobs for most of my life. Making small repairs should be no issue. As long as
the roof doesn't leak, and the basement doesn't flood. I shouldn't have any
problems.
I make my way through the overgrowth up the stairs to the
porch and reach the front door. Before I can knock on the door, it opens. A
thin man with a naturally tan skin and reddish nappy afro opened the door
wearing nothing but boxer briefs. He's thin but there's no real muscle
definition, the love handles and puffy nipples means he doesn't work out much.
I could take him in a fight if things go south, clearly this man is not stable.
His arms are heavily tattooed while his torso is bare with the exception of
some that make it appear his skin has been peeled back. His sleepy red eyes
tell me he's either just woken up or he's just gotten high. Right beneath those
eyes is his most distinct tattoo, in red letters, "vampire," is
written in all caps with the letters “ire,” in extra thick font.
"You Wesley," he asks.
"Yeah."
"I thought you'd be a white boy."
"Well I didn't think you'd be one," I joke, but he
doesn't seem to laugh.
"Because my name is Kareem," he asks bluntly.
"Yeah," I'm somewhat ashamed as I answer.
"Well I'm not. Don't forget it."
"Sorry."
"Do you want to bring your stuff in or just keep
looking over me?"
I expected Kareem to help me bring my stuff in, but he just
went back to watching whatever movie he was before I came in. Once everything
was inside he finally paused the movie to talk with me. I thought he'd want to
get to know me, as roommates usually do. Instead he just wanted to lay some
ground rules.
"You know you've got the yard work and repairs
right?"
"Yes," I almost feel like I'm talking to an old
man.
"If it's something you can't do, tell me. I'll hire
someone to do it. I don't want you screwing things up because you got ahead of
yourself," as if his home was in great standing already.
"I should be able to handle most of it. Doesn't look
too bad."
"Whatever. Next rule, there's wine in the kitchen.
Don't drink it. That isn't for you. You can have whatever else you want, never
that."
"You make it sound deadly."
"It isn't, but you'll wish yo were dead if I find
out."
"You're a funny guy," I try to force a laugh.
"How am I funny?"
"What?"
"I'm just trying to see how I'm funny."
"I just think you're funny."
"You mean, let me understand this cause, you know,
maybe it's me. I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how? I mean funny
like a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to fucking amuse you?
What do you mean funny? Fnny how? How am I so funny," he stands up and
starts to pace back and forth.
"I was just saying that the way you speak it's
sarcastic and-"
"Sarcastic and what? You said I'm funny. How the fuck
am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me? Tell me, tell me what's
funny."
"I'm sorry, you're not funny. I'll go," I stand
up. "I didn't mean to offend."
"Sit down you idiot," he easily pushes me back
onto the sofa.
"What?"
"When you watch Goodfellas that'll be
your favorite scene. I thought you said you liked movies?"
"Doesn't everyone like movies? That's just not my
favorite genre"
"Whatever. Key is on the coffee table. Pick any room
upstairs you want."
"Where do you stay?"
"Basement."
Before I could reply, he had already pressed play on his
movie, sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table. I could keep trying
and failing to have friendly conversations with him, but I figure the whole
thing would be pointless. He didn't seem interested in anything but movies and
trying to scare me. I wonder what his deal is.
He really might be crazy. The tattoos should have told me he
was out of his mind. The only people with face tats are famous rappers,
criminals and people who gave up on life a long time ago. I've never seen any
rapper like him before and if he was a criminal he might be able to pay someone
else to fix his house. That leaves a person who gave up on life a long time ago
which makes sense. I don't smell any marijuana, but he has to have been using
it.
I settle on the master bedroom upstairs. It already has
curtains, even if they're tacky floral prints, they'll work. It also has an
attached bathroom. None of the other rooms were small, but this one is by far
the biggest. It isn't messy, just dusty. The entire second floor is dusty, even
the other bathroom looks untouched. I'll need to get some furniture. There's a
bed in each room, but nothing else. No dresser, no nightstand, and even the
beds are haphazardly thrown into each room. Why is he living like this?
"Hey, I thought of another rule," Kareem scares
me.
"I didn't hear you come in."
"Yeah, I'm just a quiet guy."
"What's the other rule."
"Never go in the basement. Even if I invite
you."
"Are you running your own Saw game in
the basement?"
"Want to see," for some reason it almost sounds
threatening.
"No, I'm good."
"You catch on quick."
"Always been a fast learner."
"Anything you want to know?"
"Is there a church around here?"
"Do I look like I would know where to find a
church?"
"No, I guess you'd probably burst into flames if you
walked into one."
"Now look who’s being funny,” I don’t get a chance to
respond before he’s gone.
I honestly don’t know if this is going to work out. Kareem
just gives me a bad vibe. Some people aren’t very extroverted but it feels like
he’s going the extra mile just to make sure I don’t talk to him more than a few
minutes at a time. Still he’s the one who starts all the conversations; maybe
so he can cut them short. Earlier he made a joke quoting the movie scene I’ve
never seen before. But even then, he really worked hard to intimidate me. I
felt like he might really attack me, I don’t think I’d ever been so afraid of
another person. Then he just goes back as if nothing happened. If I could examine
his body, I’m sure his tattoos would be odd or filled with threatening designs.
Maybe he’ll just keep to himself and watch movies or stay in
the basement. I’ll be at school most of the time and once the semester is over
I can move out. It’s too late to find somewhere else to stay. I just have to
keep telling myself that God wouldn’t put me through anything that I couldn’t
handle. Kareem isn’t an obstacle to overcome but a person that God placed in
front of me to teach me a lesson, or perhaps I’m here to teach him a lesson.
I wonder if he would be willing to go to Goodwill with me. I could grab some furniture and he’d be help getting everything in the car. Maybe he knows somewhere else I can get some stuff, I’m not from around here so it’ll be good to have the extra set of eyes. I can make this work, I just need to stay positive.
[Table of Contents] [Exsanguinte] [Next Chapter]
