Moving On Up
Ted Miller’s dream reveals the perfect plan.
The next day, he enters Red-Line and examines the signboard. Small units for $91.00; the largest, $234.00. A five- by eight-foot will suffice.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asks.
“The five-by-eight. It’s heated, right?”
“They’re all heated. Ten Celsius.”
“I’ll take it.”
She pulls a paper from a drawer and checks off boxes. “Fill this out.”
He scans the sheet: name, address, phone. The usual.
He completes the form and slides it across the counter.
“One hundred fifty-nine dollars a month.” She hits keys on the calculator. “That’ll be two fifty-eight fifty. October pro-rated. First and last.”
“First and last?”
“First and last month.”
“Like an apartment?”
She taps her pen on the counter. “Something like that.”
This’ll put a dent in my disability cheque for the month.
“Credit card?”
“Cash.” He withdraws a wad of small bills from his pocket.
She hands him change. “Payment is due by the first, or interest accrues at twelve percent. Three months unpaid, contents are repossessed.”
“No problem. I’ll be here on the first.”
She inserts two keys onto an orange rubber keychain, with the words Red-Line Self-Storage embossed in black. “Follow me.”
Outside, dull grey units stand in long rows as if soldiers lined up for battle.
He notices the gate. The fenced-in yard. His chest tightens. “Can I get in anytime?”
“There’s 24-hour access.”
At the sight of the golden arches across the street, his mouth waters. His belly growls.
She unlocks the door to the individual units. “The same key for the gate works on this door. Smaller key for the unit.”
He scrutinizes the hallway: doors to the left, doors to the right.
She unlocks a unit.
“This’ll do fine,” he mumbles.
He ambles back to Victoria Park, where tents are sprawled across the grounds. Twelve? Fifteen? Numbers fluctuate daily.
He unzips his tent and bundles his clothing, sleeping bag, pillow, and blanket into the worn duffle bag. He dismantles the tent, stuffing it into its matching grey bag.
“Moving on,” he tells Sam, one of the nearby tenters. “Want to help take my shit to the street? I’ll grab a cab.” Can’t be more than five bucks with tip.
Sam helps drag his possessions to the sidewalk. “Good luck, bud.”
“Yeah, see ya.” Ted salutes. Horrors of Afghanistan continue to flash in front of him.
He licks his chapped lips. Smiles. After settling in at Red-Line, he’ll walk to the corner truck stop, which gives truckers free access to restrooms. He’ll shave, brush his teeth, bask in a hot shower. After splurging at a real restaurant instead of fast food, he’ll unroll his sleeping bag and blanket, plump up the pillow, and enjoy his new home: Locker A129, 188 Main Street. Must keep using the Resource Centre address where he collects his government cheques, though. Can never be too careful.
He’s already tasting independence. No way will he ever return to the park. He’ll die first.
FROM THE AUTHOR:
“The housing crisis is rampant across the world. Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, isn’t immune.
One block west of our downtown Halifax condo lies the narrow two-block length Victoria Park; three and a half blocks to the east is the Spring Garden Road Memorial Library, deteriorating since its replacement the Halifax Central Library opened in December 2014. People experiencing homelessness moved into these properties (along with several others) erecting tents and building huts. In August 2021, the police dismantled the “homes.” Since then, various levels of government and community groups have attempted to relocate these individuals. While some have moved on, others have returned.”
©2023 Catherine A. MacKenzie
Cathy’s writings are found in numerous print and online publications. She writes all genres but invariably veers toward the dark—so much so her late mother once asked, “Can’t you write anything happy?” (She can!)
She published her first novel, Wolves Don’t Knock, in 2018, and Mister Wolfe (the darkly dark second) in 2020. Two volumes of grief poetry commemorate her late son Matthew: My Heart Is Broken and Broken Hearts Can’t Always Be Fixed. She has also published other books of poetry and short story compilations, all available on Amazon or directly from her.
Cathy divides her time between West Porters Lake and Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada.
Check out her website for further information: http://writingwicket.wordpress.com