Big Daddy Sinatra: There Was a Ruthless Man(51)

“I’m not leaving my land.”

“This isn’t your land. This is my land. Land that I have sold. And you are leaving, even if the Sheriff has to come on this property and drag you away from here.”

“Ain’t nobody dragging me away from nowhere!”

“Fine,” Charles said. “You want to put on a show for your grands, fine. Do so. Don’t leave of your own volition. Let the Sheriff drag you out. Because you are leaving this place and you’re either doing it tonight under your own authority, or tomorrow under mine. But you are leaving here. We’ve given you months to find a suitable alternative and you have chosen to do nothing.”

“This is my home and I’m keeping my home!”

“This is not your home!” Charles shot back. “You haven’t paid your rent in six months. We’ve been more than patient with you. Now enough is enough, Miss Winifred. I will not continue to allow this. I’m not a charity and you will not treat me like one. You get more than enough money each month, from Jesse’s retirement and from your own social security, to easily pay that rent. You chose not to pay it.”

“It’s too damn high,” Winifred blared. “I’m tired of paying these high rents.”

“There’s nothing to pay now. You have to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fine,” Charles said and began heading for his car. He was wasting his time.

But Jenay couldn’t believe it. When he sat back inside, she looked at him. “You’re going to evict her? You’re going to just evict that sweet old lady?”

“Sweet?” Charles asked, as if Jenay had to be kidding.

And sure enough, that “sweet” old lady was on her feet now, standing at the porch rail pointing her cane at Charles. “Rot in hell, Big Daddy!” she spat out. “Rot in hell! You’re worse than the worse devil there! Rot in hell!” Then she looked at Jenay, who was staring empathically at her. “What are you looking at motherfucker?” she asked Jenay.

Jenay was stunned. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. What your nigger ass looking at? My pappy used to string up people like you, and you looking your nose down at me? I knew Big Daddy was a nigger lover. I knew it all along. He’s got all their tendencies. Taking people land. Treating people like dogs. Get your nigger-loving-self off of my property, Big Daddy, and get off now!”

Charles stared at Jenay as the old woman continued to rail on and on in their ears. “Didn’t I tell you about putting feelings into anything related to business? Didn’t I tell you that, Jenay?”

“Yes,” Jenay admitted.

“And roll up that window!” Charles demanded. “Nobody wants to hear that trash!”

Jenay quickly rolled up the window. She shook her head. “She seemed so . . .nice.”

“Oh they’re always nice in the beginning. And then they get cocky. Then they stop paying rent for some reason that makes sense only in their own heads. Then they suddenly decide that they own the place and they have this awesome sense of entitlement. They’re entitled to my land. That’s her.”

Charles and Jenay looked up on the porch as she continued to rail. Her grands, who were used to her histrionics, ignored her and continued to do whatever they were doing before she stood up. Charles never argued with his tenants, especially over his own property, so he didn’t argue with that old woman either. He drove away. But his anger was still there.

“Now I’m the bad guy,” he said as he drove. “Now she’s highly offended that we dare call her out on her mooching and demand she either pay up or leave. Now, let her tell it, she doesn’t owe a thing. But that’s the Jericho way. Once you try to work with these people and give them a break like any human being would try to do, they want the whole damn thing.” He looked at Jenay. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Stop giving them breaks?”

“Yes!” he yelled as he hit his steering wheel. “Don’t give not one of them a break! They won’t appreciate it. They won’t think you’re some wonderful, caring person. They will cuss you out and tell you what you can do with yourself.”

Jenay looked out of the window. Disheartened. Not that she expected a bed of roses or any kind of kindness from these strangers in this strange town. But she’d always heard such nice things about small towns. And Maine was supposed to be so progressive! She looked at Charles.

“I hate to be so hard on you,” Charles said. “But you have got to learn this town if you expect to survive in it.”