Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,59
make fast time back toward my street.
“Is this a real call, lady? Because I feel like you might be punking me. Did my brother find out about my date, and this is his payback?”
“No, ma’am. I don’t know your brother. Is he cute?”
“Lady! What the hell is your problem?”
“What?” Her nasally voice seems to turn Brooklyn, with a side of Puerto Rican. “I’m only making conversation. My husband up and left me for this blonde bitch from Kentucky last month. It’s not even real blonde! And now you’re saying you have this cute big brother just hanging around doing nothing. Hell, why can’t I ask about him?”
“Because you’re a city worker on a courtesy call.”
“Oh. City workers not good enough for your gringa ass? Are you a racist, ma’am? Do we need to call my Tio Santiago to deal with this issue? Because if you don’t smarten up, maybe we’ll turn your power off for a whole week. And what happens when you have no power, lady?” Her voice turns louder. Screechier. “No coffee! And what happens when there is no coffee? Your poop schedule is thrown off! Next thing you know, your seven o’clock shit doesn’t happen until eleven. The next day, it happens at noon. Around and around you go until it’s three in the damn morning, and your body clock is screaming at you to wake the hell up and drop a log on the bathroom floor. And when you can’t get back to sleep, guess what you’re gonna wish you had?”
“Coffee?”
“Coffee! Thank you. Finally, we can agree on something. Listen, are you nearly home? Because there’s this show coming on TV soon, and I’d really like to catch it.”
“Why are you still talking to me?” I frown. “Our call should have ended five minutes ago.”
“You said you had no car,” she answers casually. “Means you’re walking home. I wanted to make sure you got there safe.”
“Oh… well… thanks, I guess.” I turn onto my street and head toward my apartment. There are no city trucks, no men working on the lines. “Are you… Um, I see my place.”
“Oh, good. Alright, ma’am, I just need you to head on in, and go to your fuse box. Once you’re there, let me know, and I’ll talk you through the next steps.”
“I thought you said there would be city workers here?”
“There were,” she brushes me off as I move up my front steps and unlock all three locks on the door. “But we all wanted to catch that show tonight, so they left, and now I’m the sucker missing out. Are you inside, ma’am?”
“Um… yes.” I step in, close the door at my back, and look around in search of… something. An emergency. A fire. Something to warrant this insane woman on the phone. “There’s nothing happening in here.”
“Well, of course not, silly. That’s why we called you. We’re all about being proactive here at City Electric. Lock up, please. And then let me know when you’re at the fuse box.”
“Um…” I turn and lock the door. “Okay. I’m walking to the box now. It’s in the kitchen.”
When I arrive, I study the ugly white rectangle that makes our wall look trashy. The casings are old. The white paint long ago smudged to dirty browns and blacks from workers’ hands in the past.
“Alright. I’m looking at it. What do I have to do?”
“Uh… hm…” It’s like I’ve caught her off guard. “Do you see the big thing with the on/off etched into it?”
“Uh…” I run the tips of my fingers along the fuses until I find the one that probably matches what she’s looking for. “Uh huh.”
“Awesome! Pull the lever, Kronk.”
“Um. It’s a switch. Not a lever.”
“Ugh, you totally ruined what I was going for. Fine,” she huffs. “Flick the switch.”
I do, sending my whole home descending into pitch darkness.
“Done.”
“Now switch it back on.”
I do.
“Now what?”
“That’s it! You’re the best student I’ve had all night. Those knobs who live next door didn’t even know where their fuse box was. We’re done here.”
“We are?”
“Sure are! Congratulations, young lady. Problem solved, which means you can stay inside for the rest of the night, and sleep safely knowing you won’t be waking tomorrow a charred raccoon.”
“If I was a charred raccoon, then I wouldn’t be waking, would I?”
“Hm?”
I smile. “Your logic is flawed, but nevermind. Problem solved? You promise?”
“With both pinkies. You and your cute brother are safe now. Sleep, sweet Victoria. And don’t go back out with the dude who calls