POEM
Eviction Notice
Loren’s Redemption and Unexpected Twist
Loren stepped over
the gold and red leaves
that fell from bare willow trees.
He made it up the stairs
to an eviction note
slapped on his door.
The sinking sun left
enough light to read
the three-day order.
The order said to pack
what he could or workers
would stack the rest
and bury them in a landfill
of broken dreams.
He held a brown paper bag
of groceries that ruffled
when he moved it to his other arm.
He ripped it off,
cursed under his breath,
and swiveled his head,
moving his eyes around
for nosey neighbors.
Another blank check
he’d have to add
to his list of hot checks.
Loren entered the home
and flipped a light, but the silent
light painted the room black.
Loren laughed and slid down
the wall — nothing he did went right.
He ate a red apple from his bag.
Loren unlocked his phone
and opened a music app.
He set the phone
on the cold maple floor.
’90s pop played.
He ran his fingers
through his thick, dark hair.
He straightened the wrinkles
from the paper
and read the new lender.
Loren’s eyes narrowed.
Becca Jenkins bought
the company.
Embarrassment washed
across his face.
A picture of her on
a letterhead left no doubt.
Loren lived rent-free
in her head for years;
her change of plans left him
on the hook for back rent.
He’ll have the money in the morning.
His boss decided he deserved
a raise at the mill.
Loren moved to the kitchen
ash table over melting ice cream
and a pumpkin spice candle
dancing through shadows
on the beige walls.
Loren couldn’t recall the last time
he sat with his thoughts.
He went out with the guys
for drinks in dive bars
and a strip club in Seattle.
He found relationships,
but love missed its mark.
Loren stared at the flame
but saw the fire for Becca
that hadn’t died in his heart.
Loren smoked a slender cancer stick
that simmered between his fingers.
Loren’s hands had prints
of guilt themselves.
He cheated on Becca with her friend.
She couldn’t get over it.
He couldn’t forget her sleeping
with other men.
Becca grabbed his arm and said
they were dumb kids back then.
Loren admitted she
wasn’t the smartest.
Becca’s eyes narrowed
to crinkled slits.
She swung her hand to a crack
across his face.
Becca threw her hands
to her face and sobbed.
Loren didn’t allow her to see
the sting on his nerves.
Loren eased up on himself
as he saw his life in technicolor.
He’d moved on from hard liquor,
and his bar days left their past
remarks out of context.
A rapping at his maroon door startled him.
Loren grabbed his chest.
He pushed himself up,
scooted the chair in, and moved down
the hall to the living room door.
“Hello?” he said.
“It’s the lender,” Becca said, sweeter than ever.
“A little late for a house visit?”
“Who said it was a house visit?”
Loren’s heart fluttered.
He ran his fingers through his hair
to style in place.
He twisted the knob and opened the door.
“Yes?” Loren said.
“Move,” she said, pushing her way inside.
“Okay.” Loren arched a brow.
“No power?”
“I get paid tomorrow.”
“Is everything okay?” Becca said, leaning against the kitchen island.
“Couldn’t be better,” Loren said. “And things couldn’t be worse.” Loren dipped his chin, and his eyes followed.
Becca moved to the stainless steel fridge, opened the door, and shifted items around. “No beer?” Becca said she had to hear him say it to believe it.
“It was fifteen years ago,” Loren said, motioning.
“I’ll have your stuff turned on in the morning,” Becca said.
Loren grabbed her arm like he knew she wanted him to do. “I want to turn you on tonight.”
The lights turned on.
Loren turned his head and moved his eyes around.
“I didn’t shut off your power,” she said. “The company had to fix a poll.”
“I was never getting evicted, was I?”
Becca cleared her throat and moved her blazer sleeves over her damp eyes. “No,” she said. “And you never will.”
Becca cupped his cheeks and kissed him.
“The stories we’ll have to tell our kids,” Becca said
as they lay nude on his bed.
(© 2024 AC)
(Amazon Kindle, Spillwords, The Writers Club)
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