Three i - ViceVersaMag

"The Montreal Star," said the man.
"That's out of business, isn't it?"
"You can throw all this out," said the
agent.
"Who lives here now?" asked the
woman.
"Let's take a look at the kitchen," said
the agent, leading the way. The kitchen
floor was crooked and tiled with red and
white linoleum. More papers. Whoever
owned the slippers had been a hoarder.
The agent picked through some mail on
the sideboard. This place would burn forever,
thought the man.
"Who lives here?" asked the woman.
"An old man lived here by himself,"
said the agent.
Past tense, thought the man. The
agent lit a cigarette and dropped the match
into the sink. The tap was dripping, and
the match made a tiny hiss.
"Don't let the look of the place put
you off. Get rid of the papers and this place
will clean up very well. A little paint and a
little soap and water is all you need."
"How long did he live here?" asked the
man.
"What happened to him?" asked the
woman.
"He had the place for thirty years",
said the agent.
"He was no housekeeper," said the
woman.
"A New York Times from '82," said the
man.
The agent smiled professionally. The
kitchen stove was old, die kind diat had legs,
and it stood next to a small yellow refrigerator.
"Come and see die bedrooms," said die
agent. "You'd kill for diis in New York."
We're not in New York any more,
thought the man. They followed the agent
down a hallway. The light was burned out.
The hall was dark.
The first door on the right was a bathroom.
The man looked in. The bathroom
smelled. The glass in the window over the
tub had been painted green. "I guess the
paint's instead of a curtain," said the
woman.
"I think you're right." said the
man.The rental blew a delicate stream of
smoke through her red lips.
"Why is the old man giving up the
place?" asked the man. "Is he going into a
home? Does he have family here?"
"I have no idea", said the agent as she
walked down the hall. "He had a long
lease, and the rent was very inexpensive."
The man whispered to his wife, "I'll
bet he died in here." The woman grimaced
and looked away.
The rental agent said over her shoulder,
"There's room for a washer and dryer.
You can park in the lane all year round.
There are three bedrooms back here."
The first room was as spare as a
monk's, with a bare floor and a dresser, a
cot and a chair. There was a crucifix on the
wall. On the dresser was a little Statue of
Liberty. Next to it was a gold-framed snapshot
of three small children, a boy and two
girls, holding hands.
"These must have been his children,"
said the woman.
"All this can be moved out quickly,"
said the rental agent. "A coat of paint and
it looks like new. You could use one of
these rooms as an office." She stood in the
hall, writing something in a thick leather
appointment book. Cigarette ash fell onto
the floor. The couple looked at her, and at
each other.
"We'll have to talk about it," said the
man. The woman looked into a closet. The
rental agent closed her book. She said,
"Here's my card. It's not necessary to
decide anything this minute. Imagine it
with new paint. We can clean all this out.
Call me in a day or two, once you've made
up your mind."
The man smiled and walked with the
agent through the kitchen and the dining
room, past the piles of newspapers.The
woman lingered in the bedroom for a
moment, looking at the photo on the
dresser.
She could hear her husband's voice.
She could hear the sound of keys rattling in
the rental agent's hands. A place like this
in New York would be a steal, she thought.
She took one last look on her way out.
She joined her husband on the porch.
The rental agent locked the door. The couple
stepped onto the sidewalk, breathing
deeply. The smell of the apartment seemed
to cling to them, as if it were woven into
their clothes.
"Call me in a day or two," the rental
agent waved and smiled as she buttoned
her fur. "Good bye," said the couple.
They got in their car. The man put the
key in the ignition and sat with his hands
on the wheel. "Did you see the picture on
the dresser?" He rolled down his window
and took a deep breath. He put the car in
gear and pulled into traffic.