Run For the Money by Eric Beetner

Author:Eric Beetner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blasted Heath Ltd
Published: 2016-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Mrs. Boone finally sat down with her newspaper. Renting out rooms to college girls was no way to spend a retirement or a widowhood. Damn kids asking for every little thing done for them. Surprised they can wipe their own asses sometimes.

Looking after Delmer was a full time job. Lunkhead kid had been a thorn in her side since he was born. The ten years since Mr. Boone passed had been harder than she ever imagined. More than once she thought about a nice beach some place, away from the house and the girls coming and going at all hours, away from Delmer and his proclivities. Sell the house, pack a bag and take off to points unknown. Let the rest sort itself out.

But she stayed, lines on her face deepening despite her skin pulling taught from the stress. Only sixty-three and she looked eighty. When she heard her own voice she couldn’t believe it. Like the Wicked Witch of the West possessed her soul.

She’d given up. Even meeting a man couldn’t help her now, unless he was one of the Dr. Kevorkian suicide doctors. Sylvia Boone was settled into her role as the old crone who frightened children on Halloween. She hated it, but it was her life.

She took a sip of her coffee, black and bitter as she was, and unfolded the paper. Damn thing cost an arm and a leg to get delivered every day. All the girls, her boarders, would tell her about the virtues of online news. It was free, the pictures were in color. Had to have a computer for that shit, though. Who needs it?

She knew the face. Who doesn’t remember a face like that? He came around to see the basement girl, Emma. Sylvia always figured he had something on her. Some kind of blackmail that kept her around a Neanderthal like that. With that girl, it could be anything. She was trouble and Mrs. Boone knew it. Even before Delmer started showing an interest.

Staying on top of his latest crush was harder than teaching a puppy not to pee on the rug. You can smack them with a magazine a million times, but if they get it in their head they want to piss on the carpet, they’re damn well going to do it.

Delmer was like owning a puppy who never grew up. If she came home to find him humping the arm of the couch she wouldn’t be a bit surprised.

He creeped all the girls out, Sylvia knew it. He didn’t. He didn’t see what other people were thinking. It wasn’t part of his wiring. The fact that he grew bigger than a brick shithouse didn’t help the creep factor. And the fact he never left the house made it seem even stranger. He lurked. Even sitting at the breakfast table, he lurked. Couldn’t help it. His dad had been a lurker.

But Emma, all short skirts and alcohol breath and staying out until three a.m., she was like candy to Delmer.

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