Nora Jennifer

 

Nora sat on the comfy chair by the window, looking out over the courtyard.  The light from her apartment was soft and the only sound was from the classical music she played in the background and her purring cat, who seemed content to sit on her lap, eyes closed.

Across the courtyard, the light from a flickering television shown on the backside of the shade covering the window.  Old Mr. Harlin rarely came out.  His groceries were delivered, along with the daily paper.  His mail filled his mailbox along the lobby wall, next to the other twenty-seven boxes. No one really knew him; they only knew of him.  Once a week, Nora would empty his mailbox and carry it up to his door, knocking and then leaving it on his mat.

She wanted to paint him.  She could envision his facial features on canvas.  Failing that, she hoped to one day at least take a black and white photograph.  There was just something about the old man that suggested he had experienced a life worth living.  She could see it in his eyes on the rare times she had seen him outside of his apartment.  She had yet gathered the courage to ask him if she could.

Other than a few scattered cat toys, Nora’s apartment is filled with her art, her paints and stacks of canvases.  Separate from that is her expensive camera equipment.  Long ago the cat had learned to navigate around the tripods and easels.  He tends to ignore the smell of her paints and knows better than to play with the various paint brushes laying here and there.  He understood some time ago how completely lucky he had been to be rescued and now living indoors.

Monday morning, everyone in the building was given a notice that the entire place was being converted into condominiums.  They were given a choice to buy their place or move out.  Nora suddenly saw a ticking clock on the time she had left to either snap the old man's picture or paint his portrait.  She knew she would have no problem finding a new place to live, but knew nothing of Mr. Harlin's finances.  This would not be a smooth transition for him.  This week, when she delivered his mail, she would knock but then stay there until he opened the door.

Mr. Harlin surprised Nora by inviting her in. He poured them both a cup of tea and thanked her for always bringing his mail up from the lobby.  Not wanting to lose her nerve, she jumped right in and asked if he would mind if she painted his portrait. 

"That's not possible, dear.  I don't even allow my picture to be taken.  I'm sure if you check the internet you'll not find my picture anywhere."

"Why all the secrecy?"

"You know our building is changing, right?"

"Yes, I received a notice that it is being turned into condos."

"That's just one reason I don't want to be out there.  I'm the owner of the building, and I imagine there will be many folks not too happy about having to relocate.  But it can't be helped.  There are big plans for this entire area, and some investors are chomping at the bit to buy this place, only to bulldoze it for yet another shopping mall.  Going condo was the only way I could let many of these tenants keep their homes, by spreading the ownership across the entire place.  That also keeps the banks away."

"But I mail my rent checks to RGH, Corp.  Is that you?"

"It is.  If you'll notice the address is the Imperial Bank, on Winston Blvd.  They handle all my transactions, them and the maintenance team.  They're the ones who respond whenever a call comes in that something is broken or not working."

"This place has always been in good shape, I don't know anyone who is unhappy here.  You don't need to hide from anyone."

"That's not it.  Back when my wife was alive, she was the social butterfly.  She was always comfortable around people, she could talk to anyone.  That was before you moved here.  I'm not that way. I never know what to say to anyone, so I just keep to myself."

"Mr. Harlin, you have nothing to worry about.  Everyone in the building is very nice.  I don't think there is a clunker in the bunch, and you're doing fine talking with me."

Nora, do you believe that things happen for a reason?"

"I guess, maybe."

"Not long ago I was diagnosed with cancer.  It is not ever going to do anything but get worse.  It is with that in mind that I've started putting my affairs in order.  Whenever anyone fills out a rental agreement, I have a background check done on them.  Like you said, I don't want any clunkers in the building.  Okay, I'm getting off track here.  As I have zero family left, I have been looking for someone to leave everything to.  With your permission, I'd like to leave it all to you.  Out of everyone here, you have always been the kindest, most thoughtful person around.  That's the other reason for turning these into condos.  You would only be responsible for your own place, and that will be yours, free-of-charge.  I know you don't make much with your art, so this should help you along."

"Mr. Harlin, have you been to a specialists?  Maybe the Mayo clinic?"

"That's what I'm talking about, Nora.  I offer to set you up for life and your first thought is about my health.  No, like I said, I've been to all the doctors and I really want you to have it.  Of course, my lawyers will draw it all up and make everything legal.  You should have nothing to worry about, even the taxes will be taken care of.  And it's completely up to you if you want to let anyone know that you will be the new owner, but I'd be careful with that one.  You can let me know later if you want to stay in your current apartment or if you'd prefer this one.  You can have either."

"What are you going to do?"

"As soon as everything's been completed, I'm heading up to Canada.  I'd just like to be in the snow once more before I'm gone.  Not really sure why, I just miss it."

to be continued