was working out — that’s what I thought at the time.

18

“Can I call you later to see if you’ve changed your 19

mind?” he asked.

20

“You can call all you want,” I said, regretting the words 21

as they came out of my mouth. “But I’m not renting any-22

thing to anybody.”

23

“Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Blakey.” The 24

white man smiled and shook my hand just as if I had said 25

yes to him. “That’s my office number in Manhattan on 26

the card. I’d give you my home phone, but I work more 27 S

than anything else. I hope I’ll be hearing from you. If not 28 R

I will certainly call again.”

6

3rd Pass Pages

ManInMyBasemnt_HCtext3P.qxd 10/24/03 8:16 PM Page 7

The Man in My Basement

Before I could say anything else, the little man turned 1

away and walked down to a Volkswagen, the new Bug, 2

parked at the curb. It was a turquoise car that reminded 3

me of an iridescent seven-year beetle.

4

He made a U-turn and sped away.

5

Across the street Irene Littleneck was watching from 6

her porch.

7

“Everything okay, Mr. Blakey?” she called.

8

“Just a salesman, Miss Littleneck.”

9

“What’s he sellin’?”

10

“I didn’t even get to that,” I lied. “You don’t buy if 11

you’re unemployed.”

12

Irene Littleneck, eighty years old and black as tar, 13

flashed her eyes at me. All the way across the road those 14

yellow eyes called me a liar. So I turned my back on them 15

and went into the house.

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