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Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWII
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