T w e n t y S i d e d

The last time we checked in on the Smith family, Jimbo had taken over the family home despite it not belonging to him. He smoked, and had ill-kept cats, and allowed the place to be covered in tar, dust, mildew, and cat pee. Eventually, he began just leaving the back door open a crack so his animals could come and go as they pleased. This led to him getting more and more pets, as the smell of cat food drew in more felines; along with the occasional raccoon. The population boomed with the family home as the epicenter. To him, a lonely old man this meant he usually had someone to watch the news with in his old recliner. To the neighborhood, it meant bird populations plummeted and cat fights were constant. The local trap-neuter-return program couldn’t keep up and the area became known for its strays.

In 1990, where we left off, Jimbo was 70. We’re going to jump forward in decades now, rather than twenty years at a time, since things are going to pick up a bit for a while. Bringing us, finally, to the year 2000. Jimbo didn’t care much about Y2K, but he did pull his money out of the bank just in case. He’s 80 now, living in a house that isn’t his and mostly trying to slip under the radar with his family.

When he gets the call that Betty has passed away, he isn’t surprised, but he does quietly pack his things and puts them by the door. He’s had a lot of time to be bitter, and angry, and think, all alone. He knows he messed up when his mom died, he knows he should have found an apartment and let his sister take what was hers. But now, she’s gone and he never got to apologize. He figures the best thing he can do is just go quietly when he finds out who she’s left the place to.

He isn’t surprised when his doorbell rings a few days later, and he even bothers to put on proper pants to answer it, rather than doing so in his boxers as he usually does. The woman at the door is Betty’s oldest daughter, who we’ll call Lorretta.

He is surprised, however, to find out that his sister left him the house. He and Lorretta are sitting in his living room, drinking overly strong coffee as they talk. Lorretta hasn’t said an unkind word to him, and doesn’t seem angry to have lost her inheritance to an old man. “You don’t seem surprised…” He finally says, the closest he’d gotten to acknowledging his own shock, and maybe guilt. Lorretta’s eyes are a bit sad, she shakes her head and puts her cup of coffee down. “Uncle Jim.” She says, eyeing his bags by the door. “You didn’t seriously think she’d kick you out?”

Lorretta offers to come over once or twice a week to clean up, maybe make him something fresh to eat. Her own daughters are just off to college, and she says helping would do her good.

In the end, Jimbo says he needs to think, and they say their goodbyes. Jimbo begins looking for apartments in the area.

He finds a small place, much more fit for a family of one, and confirms they allow animals. He chooses his two favorite cats to take with him, and out he goes. He’s been living on social security, but with ten years not having to pay rent or even taxes on the place, he’d built up enough savings that he’ll be comfortable. He realizes quietly that since the home belonged to Betty, and she never charged him or gave it to him officially, she’d been paying the property tax on it all that time. Jimbo finds himself humbled yet again.

He calls Lorretta and tells her to meet him at the house, which she does. It’s empty of furniture now, most of it still out by the dumpster waiting to be collected. When she arrives he hands her the keys. “Why?” She asks, and he gives her a half-truth. “I’m old,” He said. “it’s too big for me.” Lorretta doesn’t press.

He writes over the title and writes a check for the taxes she’ll owe. She’ll still have to pay a little no matter what, since the bigger the check he writes, the more taxes there are, but he does his best. The check will dig badly into his savings, but he figures it’s what he should have been paying Betty all along. He’ll still have enough for his rent and his microwave dinners.

Lorretta keeps her word about coming over to help him out. She goes to his apartment twice a week to refill his pills, make him dinner, and clean up. She has to deal with her siblings being bitter, now. Of the four of them, Lorretta had been the only one willing to go to his house, a notoriously trashed and awful place, to tell him in person. They say the only reason he gave her the house was because she was there, to which, she very cleverly points out, that they were not.

Next week Lorretta will decide what to do with the old place, clean it up, sell it, or both. But, for now, it’s not her focus.

Bay Jubilee Oldest child of Shamus Young. They/Them