When he’d gone by the efficiency apartment that morning to pick Boyd up,
Boyd had apologized. “Sheila didn’t have time to clean up before she left.Told
her I’d take care of it.”
But he hadn’t. Charlie ignored the dirty coffee cups, a saucer with the
hardened residue of Timmy’s soft-boiled egg, a milk glass, and a cereal
bowl on the dinette. The kitchen floor was sticky.
“Sheila took the car?” Charlie asked.
Boyd fumbled for an answer. “Yeah, she did.” He stepped over shoes into the closet. ”That way she can head back whenever she wants. Where’d I leave my boots?“
“What did Sheila tell them at work?”
“Whatever.” Boyd emerged with the boots and gave Charlie a grin that made the whole room shimmer. He sat on the bed and unlaced the boots. “Grab my keys from the work table.”
Charlie found the table behind the electronic keyboard, the amp, the speakers, and a music stand shedding its hand-written manuscript sheets to the floor. Wires ran from the amp to the guitar laid across the table. He pawed through the dust on the table’s surface, through scraps and sheets and pens and pencils and guitar picks. No keys. Beneath the guitar and a stack of manuscript paper, gritty to the touch, he found a stack of envelopes. The top one, from Potomac Electric, was stamped in large red letters, “FOURTH and FINAL NOTICE.” Under it an envelope from MasterCard. “Overdue” was printed in blue above the address. Six or seven other bills were beneath the first two. None had been opened.
Charlie strummed a B-flat chord and frowned up through the cedar branches to the darkening sky. Boyd and Sheila were in trouble again. Charlie was still in debt from the last time. Had Boyd told Steve? Not likely. Charlie laid the Martin on the camp table. Decision made. He didn’t know where he’d get the money, but he couldn’t allow Boyd to go through bankruptcy.
TOM'S TALES