Audrey's Door Sarah Langan

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.Edgardo tapped his cane.Once.Twice.Three times.Four.He was stalling.She was about to offer him a C-note bribe (it was all she could afford, unless she started turning tricks), when he finally spoke: “They want someone with your job.That’s why you’re here.Someone who can build things this time.Last one, fine voice, but no good with her hands.”She beamed.“I’m a real professional.It’s very professional.A career.I’m not home during the day making noise or having part—”He cut her off.“—But I like you, you see? You stupid, like my Stephanie.”“What did you call me?”His eyes watered again.She decided maybe his tear ducts were broken.“They want it a secret.I could lose my job.But I should tell you.”Her stomach sank.Lead water mains.Asbestos-filled walls.Rats.She’d have to share the kitchen with fifty Chinamen.Well…still might be worth it.“There was an accident,” he said.She cocked her head.An old lady fell out the window.A neighbor’s malnourished pit bull developed an appetite for human babies.Whatever.For the last example of Chaotic Naturalism in the world, she could handle tag-team serial killers in tights.“You heard about her.The woman and her babies.Happened in July.The bathtub?”“I just finished school—architecture,” she told him.Barely scraped by.Between Saraub and her final project, using negative space to define boundaries in domestic environments, she was still recovering.When she woke up in the mornings lately, she had a hard time getting out of bed, and not because she was depressed.She was exhausted.“I haven’t even seen a movie in three months…It’s been hard.I broke up with my boyfriend.That’s why I’m moving.” She heard herself, and decided she ought to make some friends instead of burdening random building superintendents with her problems.Edgardo’s knobby walking cane tap-tap-tapped as he limped to the center of the den, where the floor buckled by about two inches.A piece of it had broken to reveal a rotted support beam.Something heavy and damp (an old-fashioned wet bar?) must have rested on it for years and years.“Well, you didn’t miss this story,” he said.Edgardo, my friend, you overestimate me, she thought.To get her attention, he banged his cane hard against the warp in the floor in four quick strikes: Whock!-Whock! Whock!-Whock! Then he cleared his throat.“The last tenant was fighting with her husband for the children.He lived in…New Jersey.A McMansion, you know? They go up overnight, as big as this whole building.Me? I’d rather live in a sewer.But the fights.Very ugly, the fights.The neighbors complained when he came.”Audrey nodded.“McMansions are designed by halfwits.You know, they waste twice as much energy as houses with plaster instead of drywall? The American family keeps getting smaller and its houses keep getting bigger…It’s actually a very lonely way to live.”Edgardo waved his knobby cane at her.“Not the point! The point is she was wrong fit for The Breviary.That’s why the rent is low.The board wants to be able to pick the right kind of tenant—no one like her ever again.”She nodded, but couldn’t help but smile.Down the hall, the kitchen door was open.Sure, whatever he was about to tell her was a doozy, but you could fit a six-person table in there!“The Mami, she drowned her babies in the bathtub.Then she slit her wrists and climbed in with them,” Edgardo said.“Oh, boy,” she said.He banged his cane on the rotten floor to get her attention, then showed her his clenched fist.“Four babies and Mami.” He lifted his thumb.“One!” Then he lifted his index finger.“Two!” His middle finger.“Three!” His fourth finger, which she now noticed was adorned by a handsome copper ring.“Four!” Finally, his pinky, so that he was showing her his open palm.“And Mami makes five! All dead, right here.”Her heart sank a little, then rested in her stomach, and then—oops!—landed in her shoes.She had heard about this.The story had been on the cover of every newspaper for days: MOMMY KILLER, TRAGEDY STRIKES ON THE UPPER WEST SIDE, DISTRAUGHT HUSBAND BLAMES CITY FOR NOT ACTING ON ABUSE COMPLAINTS.She thought about that, and now she knew why the prewar bathroom tiles had been replaced with ugly white monstrosities and a half Jacuzzi from Home Depot: water damage.“No,” she groaned.“They repainted and tore up all the carpet.Didn’t even resell the old—what was it—claw-foot tub.They had it destroyed,” he offered, like he’d decided to soften the blow.“How awful,” she said.He winced, so that his sun-damaged skin pruned along his eyes and mouth.“Yes.Bad.Worst part: her husband was on his way that morning.He was going to take them.Got the…the custody.”Audrey looked out the window.The sun shone bright, but strangely, this place didn’t gather much sunlight.She sighed.So her luck wasn’t in after all.Surprise, surprise.Unexpectedly, Edgardo cupped her shoulder.He was shorter, so he had to reach.Maybe not tuna on his breath.Maybe sardines.“All people have dark side [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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