Date: Fri, 20 May 2016 11:31:15 -0500
From: Eric Trager <trager2275@gmail.com>
Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 4

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CHAPTER FOUR

"Ginny Miller speaking!" the friendly middle-aged-sounding woman said on
the other end of the telephone.

"Um, hello Ms. Miller... My name is Sean Wyman, and I'm calling from
Kenosha. My dad gave me your card and said I should call you. I have to
come to Janesville in the next day, or two and I'm supposed to..."

"Oh yes! Hello, Sean! I've kind of been expecting your call! The
scuttlebutt is that your dad might be running the GM plant here in town and
I was told his son was going to be the one to pick out a home – that
must be you then!"

"Yes, ma'am, well, I..."

"Please, call me Ginny."

"OK, well, Ginny, like I said, I'm supposed to come to Janesville in the
next day, or two. I have to see you and the football coach and I was
wondering if we could maybe set something up for the day after tomorrow
around 11:00 in the morning? I'm going to try to see the coach before then
I think and maybe you have some houses to look at? I'm sorry,
ma'am...um...Ginny, but I'm only 17 and I don't know how to find a house."

"OK, Sean, the best way to start is to tell me what kind of a house you
live in now, if you like that kind of a house, and what you had in mind in
terms of price if you know, or if your dad gave you some idea. That way, it
gives us something to go on.  It's important when people come in from out
of town that they don't waste time looking at things they're not going to
buy anyway."

"Well, we live in a big old house – It's a Tudor style. It's got cedar
shingle siding, it's two stories, and there are five bedrooms, three
bathrooms and a half bathroom, a den, an office, a finished basement and a
three-car garage. We also have a security system. It's a pretty big house,
and the other houses around are big, too."

"Does that house suit your family, Sean?"

"Well, it's just me and dad, but yeah, I guess so. I like it anyway. I like
it better than new houses – they don't have much personality; you know?
Do you have houses like that in Janesville?"

"Well, we've got a little bit of everything here – you'd be surprised!
Now, what about the price – do you and your dad have a price in mind
that you don't want to go past?"

"Dad just told me that within reason the price didn't matter. He said your
prices are a little less than Kenosha."

"OK, well, let's do this: give me the address where you live now. That way,
I can look up the assessed value and that will at least help us zero in on
a price range."

Sean gave Ginny the address, and she looked it up. "OK, Sean, according to
the City of Kenosha, the assessed value of the house you and your dad live
in now is $472,000, and it's 3,842 square feet, built in 1925. Here in
Janesville you can just about have your pick of the town for that kind of
money. We'll be looking in the older, more upscale areas of town. Now, what
about school...where will you be going?"

"My dad wants me to go to Craig High, so he said to stay in that area."

"Alright then, young man! Now, let's do this: let's meet day after tomorrow
at 11:30 here in my office. The address is on the card, it's just a hop,
skip and a jump from the school. That way if your meeting with the Coach
goes a few minutes long, we'll still get in what we need to get in. How's
that sound?"

"That's fine. I have a GPS in the car and I'll be able to find your
office. I will see you then. I'll send you a text right now to your cell
phone so that you have my number."

"Great, see you in a couple days, then!"

"OK, see you then."

"Well, that went well," Sean thought, "kinda funny she knew my name – I
mean, I'm not the one buying anything... OK, one call down and one to go."
Sean pulled out the Craig Coach's contact information. It said his name was
Bob Slater and had an office phone and a school email address. "Here we go
– let's call the Coach..."

Sean decided he'd call from the home land line this time as it had a block
on it so the person receiving the call couldn't see the number. That was
better, he thought, because he didn't know how any of this was going to
work itself out and he didn't always like everyone in the world having his
cell phone number. Sean regarded that as being just a little bit too much
personal information being given away.

Sean dialed the number, and waited for the call to go through. "Slater
here!" the voice on the other end of the line said in a businesslike, yet
not unfriendly fashion.

"Yes, Coach Slater, my name is Sean Wyman and I'm calling from Kenosha. The
reason I'm calling is that..."

"I know why you're calling, son. Let's make this easy: I am available at
9:00 tomorrow morning, or the same time the day after. I can give you 30
minutes of my time, which should be more than enough. Does one of those
times work for you?"

"Sure, I'll see you at 9:00 day after tomorrow. I wrote down the address of
the school, and I have GPS, so I won't get lost, and you'll see me on time,
sir."

"Son, call me Coach. Everyone else does, even my wife. Now, I'd like you to
bring a copy of your last report card, and also a copy of your last year's
physical card, OK?"

"Sure thing, Coach, and I'll see you in a couple days then!"

"OK, see you then."

Sean hung up the phone and texted Andy, "call me now 911."

About ten seconds later, Sean's cell phone rang. "Hey, dude, what's up? Why
the 911? You in trouble?

"Nah, no trouble, And, but look, if you still wanna do the Janesville trip
with me, we'd be leaving early the day after tomorrow prolly around 7:30 in
the morning. Hope that's not too early for ya..."

"That's cool. I'll bring some coffee for the way and we can stop at Dunkin'
Donuts and get something, too. Sounds good!"

"OK, look, I still gotta ask my dad if it's OK for you to go, but that
won't be a problem I don't think. Besides, he kinda owes me a couple favors
for dropping this bomb on me like he did, ya know?"

"Yeah, he does, Sean-o. OK, look, I gotta get going here – I'm helping
my Uncle over on a new construction house today, so if I don't see you
before then, how we gonna do this?"

"I'll pick you up 7:30 in he morning day after tomorrow. Be ready, And –
I ain't gonna wake yer ass up!"

"OK, that's cool. Later, dude!"

"Later!"

Having made his phone calls, Sean went out to the garage in order to get
his equipment ready for the day.

That day, Sean had four lawns to do, but if he was going to be gone the day
after tomorrow, then that would make six lawns as he could not
inconvenience his customers. He called the other two people, and they said
it would be fine to do the lawns that day. Sean knew he had a long day
ahead of him – six lawns would be about ten hours, so he wouldn't finish
until about 7:30 p.m.

Just as the garage door was going up, Sean's phone rang again. Looking at
the screen, he saw it was Greg Tillman, one of his teammates, an offensive
lineman whom Sean had gotten to know last year, and thought of as a decent
guy. Greg had been one of the first guys on the team to make Sean feel
welcome, and not like an outsider after he'd taken over the offense last
season. They had seen each other around at parties, and had some good times
together. Unlike Mark Braden, Greg Tillman seemed to have more than half a
brain, and he and Sean got to be pretty good friends over the past year.

"Hey, Tilly! What's up?"

"Hey, Wymo, hayadoin'? Hey, we're having a pre-season team meeting this
Saturday night. I'm calling around to let everybody know. No, it's just the
guys from the team, pretty much only who's probably gonna be starters. No,
it won't be at my house, it'll be over at Braden's – they have that big
basement room we're gonna use and his parents are out of town. I think
around 7:30 - after dinner anyway. OK, sure, see ya then. No, Brade didn't
say to bring anything. OK, later, man!"

Sean hung up and thought about the team meeting on Saturday night. It was a
good idea, and yeah, Sean did want to repeat the conference
championship. If anything, this year's team would be stronger than last
year's as they hadn't lost a lot of Seniors who were starters. Plus, most
of the guys had done athletics together and had known each other for
years. This looked like it was promising to be a cohesive, experienced, and
talented team. If there had been a similar meeting last year, Sean wouldn't
have known about it anyway since he hadn't been tipped to be a starter -
nobody would have invited an incoming Sophomore like Sean to a meeting like
that.  It just wasn't done.

Sean opened the calendar app on his iPhone, added the date and the time of
the team meeting, and then noticed how full his calendar was over the next
three days.  Not much time to do anything, he thought, except just get
through it all. "Oh, well, it is what it is, right?" Sean said under his
breath, loaded his equipment into his trailer, hitched it to the back of
the Equinox and headed off to the first lawn appointment of the day.

"Good morning, Mrs. Rosen!" Sean called out as he pulled up in front of his
first job.  "I know I'm a little early today, but I'll be heading out of
town for a day, and I have to kinda pack two days' worth of work into one,
ya know?"

"Oh, Sean, you do what you need to do! I wish my grandsons knew how to work
like you do! They're downright lazy if you ask me! It doesn't matter,
Alfred already left for the office – he has some appointments this
morning anyway, so you just get on with it, then, honey! There's a pitcher
of ice water and a glass on the porch if you get thirsty!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Rosen! I'll be done in a jiffy for you!"

The Rosens were Sean's first customers. Dr. Alfred Rosen was Sean's
dentist, and had known him from before he had a tooth in his head. The
Rosens recommended Sean to all the people they knew, and soon Sean had
learned another business lesson: how to use contacts to build a solid
customer base. He was grateful to the Rosens, and he made sure that every
year at Hanukah and Rosh Hashanah the Rosens got a card from him – his
mother taught him that people like to be thanked, and nothing does it like
putting something in their hands.

Because of the Rosens, Sean counted amongst his clientele several Doctors,
two Attorneys, a Banker, etc. These people, Sean learned, paid handsomely
for good work. What they basically wanted was a nice looking yard and they
didn't want to be bothered with it. At all. Sean learned also to cultivate
the ladies of the houses by each spring planting a Hasta, or something
similar in one of their gardens. He always made sure that whatever he
planted was a perennial, and that it looked good. Sure it might cost a
hundred dollars a year to do that, and a few minutes of his time, but Sean
was repaid tenfold because he knew that didn't go unnoticed, and more than
a few times he was pretty sure he caught those middle-age-and-up ladies
eyeing him while he worked, looking wistfully as if they were remembering a
bygone time when they were young. It was just the kind of nice little extra
that Sean would throw in, although not for 100% altruistic reasons –
after all, this was a business, and as Sean reasoned, "it pays for my shit
and I don't have to ask anyone for money."

Sean also learned the reverse lesson. Once, in his first year of doing
lawns, he went to see a new client, quoted him his rate for the lawn work,
shook hands and completed the work. At the end, the old man told him, "Son,
you quoted me $85 to do my lawn, but mostly you just rode around on that
fancy contraption. I think it's only worth $50." Sean stood back, eyeballed
the old man for a couple seconds and said, "Excuse me, sir, but we shook
hands. I told you that my price was $85 before I started, and we
agreed. This isn't fair dealing. Now, if you don't want to pay me, well,
I'm not stupid enough to waste my time suing you for that amount of money,
but I have an idea: why don't you just take your $50 and stick it right in
your ass! You probably need it more than I do!" With that, Sean turned on
his heels and left with the old man standing there slack jawed.

Apparently, the word got back to the Rosens. On his next visit, Dr. Rosen
came out as Sean was gassing up the mowers and said, "Sean, I need to talk
to you about something, son.  I heard through the grapevine that you told
Mr. Dombrowski to stick his money in his ass. Now, is that right?"

"Um, well...yes, sir, Dr. Rosen, it is."

"And was that because he wanted to short you $35 on the yard job?"

"Yes, sir, that's right."

"Good for you, boy! Serves him right trying to cheat a young man like you
out of what you earned! Son, no man sells a dollar for 95 cents and stays
in business. Don't ever forget that. You got chutzpah, boy! Your dad should
be proud of you standing up for yourself like that!"

"Hey, Brade, what's up?" said Joe Regent, another of the football team
members, answering his cell phone. Regent was a defensive tackle, and would
be a Senior this year.

"Hey, Rege, I'm sendin' ya a text. Call me back when you've seen it."

About a minute later Mark Braden's phone rings, "What's this?"

"Pretty clear, don'tcha think? Anyway, we're gonna meet over at the park
Friday night after dinner. This is before the Saturday meeting. We gotta
figure out how to handle this. Look, I'm gonna have Berrifield call the
other guys. He knows who to get. He don't need a reason; I'll just tell him
what to do. He's only the fucking equipment manager... OK, if he asks I'll
tell him it's a fucking emergency... He won't ask anyway, if we tell that
guy to jump, he only says `how high?'"

As the day wore on, Sean was making good progress with his lawn work. The
second to the last home he visited that day belonged to the
Berrifield's. Sean pulled up in front of the large, Victorian home
literally just two blocks from his own, and spied John Berrifield in the
front yard talking on his cell phone. Sean jumped out of the Equinox just
in time to hear Berrifield say, "OK, man, gotta go. We'll see ya later
then!"

"Hey, Wymo! Good ta see ya. I thought you'd be here on Friday this
week. What's the deal?"

"Can't – going out of town so hadda move everyone back to clear my
schedule. You know how it is... Hey, you shoulda stayed a little bit over
to Churchill's the other night. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Ah, that's OK – I had places to go and people to see. You
know... Besides, it kinda looked like you guys were talking about some shit
and stuff."

"Yeah, well, I had a few things on my mind I needed to sort out."

"Oh yeah, like what, man?"

"Can't say right now, Ber... I need to see how it's gonna settle out
first."

"Whatever you say, Wymo! Hey, you gonna be over at Brade's Saturday night?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, guess I'll see ya then."

"Guess so, Ber."

John Berrifield was not one of Sean's favorite people. Unlike Mark Braden,
he wasn't obtuse, or boorish, but he always seemed to be just a hanger-on,
and Sean never really felt he knew who John Berrifield was. He was friendly
enough, but it seemed to be a surface thing, and not quite genuine –
always just a little odd. Of course, then Sean thought, too, that maybe he
read more into how Berrifield acted than what was there – maybe they
just didn't "click" was all. Sean thought it was a bit odd that Berrifield
asked him about being at Braden's - this was going to be a team meeting for
the players that were pretty sure to be starters this season, and what
purpose the team equipment manager would have there wasn't clear.

Sean finished up for the day, pulled the Equinox and his trailer into the
driveway, hosed down all the equipment, tarped the trailer, and backed it
into the third garage stall. He noticed that his dad was home, and the big
Cadillac was parked in the garage. "Hey, dad! Sean called as he entered the
home. "Dad?"

"Hey, son – sorry, I was just on the phone. How was your day?"

"It was OK, dad – the reason I'm late is that I cut all my lawns
today. I had to push everything up to clear my schedule for the Janesville
trip."

"When are you going?"

"Friday. I made appointments with the Realtor lady and the Coach, so..."

"OK, son, we won't talk any more about this until you get back. How's
that?"

"Sure, dad. By the way, Andy's coming with me. I think I'd like to have an
extra set of eyes and ears along. Andy's probably the best person for it –
he doesn't have any bullshit about him, and if I took one of the guys from
the team, then all hell would break loose and I dunno `bout you, but I sure
don't want that..."

"What about your meeting with the Coach?"

"I already thought about that – I'm gonna ask Andy to wait outside. The
meeting will be 30 minutes, tops, and I don't wanna look like I need
someone holding my hand, ya know? But I still want someone along to talk to
and stuff, that sound OK?"

"Actually, son, I think it's a great idea. I know this is a big decision,
and I know Andy's been a good friend all these years, so, sure, as long as
it's OK with his mom. In fact, I'll call her right now."

"OK, dad."

"Listen, you better go online and make sure you have the bed and breakfast
reservation set and let them know that there will be two people, not just
one like they probably think. You should be OK at the Country Club for
dinner – it's an open ended pass for that day, and the bill will be sent
to GM."

Five minutes later, Joe Wyman appeared, "OK, I talked it over with Andy's
mom.  She's on board. So let Andy know it's a go."

"Thanks, dad."

END CHAPTER FOUR