Season of Change(104)

                “I don’t open the windows. Too much trouble.”

                And that explained why Takata was always in cargo shorts and a tank top.

                Slade and his partners had never come to Takata’s house to fix anything. The old man had never asked. How long had it been since someone had checked on him? Or helped him with simple everyday chores? “I’m going to open some windows.”

                “No.” He scowled. “I’ll just have to close them again.”

                Slade hesitated only a moment before opening up the two front windows. Then he went to the back of the house. The kitchen was a mess. Dirty dishes everywhere. The stench from the trash can nearly made him gag.

                “Dad?” Grace stood behind him, holding a hand over her nose. “What’s that smell?”

                “Get your sister. We need to clean house.”

                “Now?”

                “Now.”

                * * *

                THE TROOPS RALLIED at Old Man Takata’s house the next morning—Slade, the twins, Truman, Flynn, Becca, Will, and Nate. There were squirrels in his attic, a rusted sink in the master bathroom, ants marching through his kitchen. And everywhere, dirty clothes and discarded trash.

                Apparently, the only thing the elderly man took care of was his front lawn.

                Takata complained the entire time. “I don’t need any help. I can live alone just fine. Next thing you know, you’ll be wanting to put me in a home.” It became an easy refrain.

                They listened, nodding until he was through, and then reassured the old man that they were only helping him get up to speed.

                Becca, Flynn’s wife, had the patience of a saint. She had Agnes and Mayor Larry drop by and explain that a little help was required from now on to keep him safe and living at home as long as he was capable.

                “I’ll add him to my client list.” Becca dusted the mantel.

                “I’ll pay your fee, Becca,” Slade offered, remembering she had debts she wouldn’t let her husband pay. “Just don’t tell Takata.” Becca thanked him.

                “How long have you gone without lights up here?” Flynn changed the burned-out light bulbs in the ceiling fixture while Slade steadied the ladder.

                “You should all be next door opening up that bedroom on the second floor,” Takata said instead of answering.

                Flynn glanced down at Slade. “What do you think we’ll find over there?”

                “Cobwebs and old memories that need airing out,” Takata replied.

                Slade said nothing.

                But later, as they were loading tools in Flynn’s truck in the afternoon heat, his friend wouldn’t let it go. “Old Man Takata’s right. You need to air out that house and open the bedroom door.”

                Slade tugged at the knot in his tie. “Opening that door isn’t going to do anything.”

                “Keeping it closed is holding you back, man. I can feel it.”

                Slade shrugged. “And now you’re a therapist?”