“You don’t have to go to court to get what you want. Often, you just have to show these people that you are willing to see it through. If you can outlast them before it becomes too much trouble, they’ll give up.”
“I think landlords like this know that anyone who rents from them doesn’t have the time or the money to devote to really taking them down.” April swirled her pasta onto her fork and left it there. “I just feel stupid, you know? I should have known that things would turn out so badly. I shouldn’t have trusted the managers to do the right thing.”
“You can’t scold yourself for making bad decisions when your choices are so severely limited,” Samson said. “Let me come down there with you. I cost nothing, and I’m certain that if they can be intimidated, I will do so.”
“I bet you will.” April’s lips curved to the side.
“That’s a yes?”
“If you really want to waste a day arguing with a brick wall. Be my guest.”
***
Samson had once heard of a social theory that one could physically feel out of place somewhere that contrasted too sharply with one’s upbringing. Walking into the front gate of April’s old apartment complex on a Thursday afternoon made Samson wonder if that theory were true. He’d never been in a space that was so clearly not for him. He wasn’t sure that it was for anybody.
“Try to look more uncomfortable. I think that will keep people from robbing you,” April drawled.
“Stop, you. We have a few minutes. Show me around.”
“Yes, sir.” April led the way. “Over here is the lovely green chlorinated pool that you swim in if you would like to get a yeast infection.”
“I—What?”
“Right behind the main office, that’s where all of the mail for everyone is located.”
“That seems inconvenient for such a large complex.”
“The postman is as freaked out by this place as you are.”
Samson slipped his hands into his pockets and scanned around the complex. The grass had looked nice from the front, but as he walked through, he could see it browning and dying, which was a pity because the large, shady trees and the space for greenery would have been a high point off this complex. He could see cracked, impassible sidewalks between the buildings. Rain gutters were bent. The fence was almost halfway to the ground on one side.
“What happened there?” Samson pointed to the fence.
“People jump it. Mostly tenants, honestly, since otherwise, they have to walk all the way around to the entrance.”
“Why walk? Can’t they drive in?”
“They could, if they owned cars. Not everyone in this neighborhood owns one.”
Samson scowled. “Then they should design the gate so people can come in at different points.”
April shrugged. “Preaching to the choir. But a fence won’t work here, anyway. It has to be at least half a wall, with fencing on top and specific points where the tenants can get in. The gate for the parking lot doesn’t even work. It never has. You just drive on through, or walk.”
“Why in the world did you live here?”
“I couldn’t afford rent anywhere else.”
Samson rolled his eyes. “You are the most stubborn human being. You could have been living with Lana, and you chose to live here. That says something about you, as a person.”
“Yes, it says that I’m used to having to take care of myself.”
Samson was about to argue that she didn’t have to do that anymore when his eyes shifted over to several men sitting on the stoop of their apartment, playing some kind of card game. He was about to ask about that when a tiny dark-skinned woman with a huge laundry basket on her hip came up to the steps to shoo them off before she went inside. The men made a few rude noises at her and then returned to their game once she’d gone in.
“Would a wall help this place?” Samson asked doubtfully.
“To a degree. There would have to be other structural changes, and you would have to do some rebuilding. And the tenants would have to be able to still live here, if you started doing renovations. The rent has to stay sort of low. Partially because most folks aren’t going to live this far from the center of town in a bad neighborhood, even if you fix up a complex or two.”
“Hmm.” Samson took his hands out of his pockets and put his arm around April. She leaned into him.
“Hey there, pretty lady!” a man wearing sunglasses called to them cheerfully. He was around April’s age, and dressed in a blue tank top over a pair of threadbare jeans.
“Hi, Rene!” April waved. “Still stuck in this place?”