Lady Luck was on my side a few months ago...I was at the end of my rope. The Lady in the Cage pushed me to the edge of sanity. Helen had placed a letter on my door a few months earlier that led me to assume that I would be given my third year lease....In fact a line underlined in yellow, that I would need to visit her cage to sign my extended lease.
When I arrived at her window in back of the front door, she apologized that the "new lease had not been ready, and to come back later."
I really did not wish to remain there since I never felt at home there, and under the watchful eye of Lady Helen. But as you will see, Lady Luck won out in the end.
Even before I landed at the Five Points Senior Apartments, I had been forewarned by other managers that the corner property on the corner of Florida and Main had a bad history of management. They warned me that anyone who entered would be too happy to leave with their lives. The property had history of poor management, and apartments were always available there. .but the homeless can't be too choosy and besides, my daughter wished a roof over the head land not lean on Motel Six when my pockets were full.
I believe it was July of 2015 that I co-signed the lease papers which included a parking stall in a secure area. Helen forgot to give me a copy of the lease and also the key to the room. Reluctantly with persistence she gave me both without so much as an apology...a word not in her vocabulary.
A hoard of flies attacked me that first week. Kept awake for a few nights, I found a crack in the bedroom screen window. That fixed, as well as a dirty patio compressor, the door was hard to open. I was attacked by flies my first week there and noticed a problem with the door. The bedroom screen had a crack in the corner, and finally the first of five maintenance men entered and produced a new screen and cleaned the compressor of the outside A/C. I began to feel happy and my chronic bronchitis began to disappear.
One morning I felt like taking my breakfast of eggs and bacon outside to eat and get some fresh air. Just as I walked down the hall from room 1001, she came running towards me and walked in front of me.
"The only place you can eat is in your room." She came towards me, like my mom did as a kid with a broom. Gripping my plate, I fled outside with the mad dog at my heals. I turned when I reached Florida Street and noticed she had returned to her glass cage. I had to keep my emotions in check, somehow but deep down, knew it was not a lady, but the devil
October of the same month, we had one of our worst ever Santa Ana's, where the temperature hit one hundred. I felt like heading to the third floor and reading a book...since I knew that there was a A/C unit inside the library. there....wrong. it had been disconnected so I returned to my room. The door was ajar and would not budge. Finally It opened and called Lady Helen to my room.
"George, the owners disconnected the A/C's since the "Old People forget to turn them off."
"But I moved in strictly because of the good cold air inside the library.
In her guttural raspy voice she shrugged me off and returned to her cage. I still had trouble with the door and the fist maintenance man tried to skirt the issue by reinstalling a metal bar at the bottom. It didn't work. I approached the cage again and told her of my dilemma.
"Just go out and buy some graphite...yes graphite"
I spent the next day at the Kaiser Clinic on Beach. I was placed in a wheel chair. A doctor prescribed a different inhaler for me. It cost fifty dollars but it worked. In the meantime, A handy man they worked for them years earlier came and inserted a new lock.
Now I must convey to the reader that this writer did not know what neat meant. I was filthy, but with money issues, did not have enough to hire a cleaning lady. My daughter brought me a refrigerator that helped a great deal and I begn to pick up and clean.
In October, I was hit with a family problem and turned to God. My San Diego Rabbi had told me that a cousin had a synagogue on Warner in Huntington Beach. My heart stopped shaking the first five minutes inside this sanctuary. It felt as if for the first time in my life. Hashem was guiding me, since in no way did I see the road anymore. I began to put my life on auto pilot.
But it was a day in February that placed my life in jeopardy. I returned to my car after a brief nap and saw my stall empty. I had been away for not more than two hours and called the police. A Westminster Policeman came and took my report while Danny Rodriguez, the maintenance man, and Mark the Owner ignored us. He remarked that if I had my keys inside the car, somebody must have know it and taken it.
"Your car is in a lot but is not driveable. The car was in a crash and the two inside it ran away" The next day my daughter and I tried to retrieve the car from their station but found out that Mel had to be there to claim it. Mel at the time was in the hospital with double pneumonia.
At the Huntington Beach Police department, I got nowhere. The man who I gave the report to told me that they were too busy and a highway man would come to look at the tapes. I felt pissed and thought the police were stupid. I asked a man named Rocket a few question to confirm how dumb they were.
"Who was the second president of the U.S.?"
"Don't know. I majored in science."
"Who was Einstein?" He never heard of the scientist who discovered the theory of relativity.
A video camera was inside the garage. Lisa, an office manager told me that I could not view the tapes without an officer at my side. That never happened. Danny had asked me if they had found my car the day after.
So I needed to renew my expertise in boarding buses. It took about four buses for me to get to the Kindred Hospital in Santa Ana close to the Santa Ana City College. I can't remember walking so much and nobody at the college ever heard of it...Mel could barely get out of bed but in two months would be cleared to return to the Spartan Pacific Assistant Living Center in Huntington Beach.
A look of what looked like exasperation greeted me as I entered the door off of Main. Helen had reached down for a candy and gave me such a look, as if she had seen the devil.
Helen did not know that this crusty old Jew could bus it to get around. She never apologized or took note that my car had been missing.
About one year after Mel's car had been stolen, an Officer Ricci called me and left a message. To paraphrase it he said "I found something about your stolen car that you might find interesting. You can pick up report number 16-002089 at our precinct...a couple months later, I took the bus to pick up the report.
A desk lady told me that they would need the approval of a supervisor before the report would be handed to me...When I returned a few days later, an audacious policeman told me that the case had been closed. And I will never forget his pungent words and the way he administered them.
"Sir, the case has been closed! Unless you saw the one who took the car, we can't do anything for you ."
I was mad as hell, but no cop can tell a Jew what is the truth. That night, I was visited by my friend, a squirrel. It tapped on the bedroom window where his home used to be in a fir tree. The complex spent thousands on landscape and removed the tree next to my window. The squirrel too was beside himself, ever since Matt, the owner removed his tree and spent thousands on flower and grass, no doubt have more patrons sign a lease at the Five Points. He even advertised an entire page in the Register.
"Hey George, got something to tell you. But first give me some of the leftover tuna...thanks."
"Well Jerry, out with it. You woke me up for what?"
"I know who stole your car. My wife Betty told me that she heard through the grape vine that Danny Rodriguez had taken it on orders from his boss, Helen. You know that he was just fired for having a party inside Marcia's apartments when she had gone away. Marcia had a camera that proved it.
I received a letter in September stating that all I needed to come to her cage and sign the new lease. Shaded in yellow were some of the important words. When I had the courage to come to the office she spoke in her raspy cigarette voice.
"No quite ready...Come back later."
A trip to her cage felt like a trip to the gallows during the French revolution. It is hard to smile when the swordsman has an ax ready to remove your head. And so it felt going to her cage. She never smiled or said "hello". A couple of days later, another one inside the cage told me she was on a vacation.
One late afternoon just as I was doffing off to sleep for my senior citizen nap, I heard a noise. It sounded louder so I went to the door and opened it a bit. There stood the Lady in the Cage.
"Ill be nice to you George...Given you sixty days to leave."
Barely catching my breath, I took the notice as if in a dream. When I came to my senses, I put on clothes and walked to her cage. I showed her my neat apartment, but it did no good.
"George, we have a high class of people who live here, and you are far below it. and I don't like Cockroaches."
Of course living month to month, I needed my retirement check as a months rent if I found a new apartment. My daughter looked for me and told me about the Beach Inn in Fountain Valley. One early morning, I heard a tapping on my bedroom window. It was Tommy the squirrel. I had befriended it until her fir tree was removed replaced with un-needed landscaping.
"George, you are lucky to have been shown the door. Most of my family died because of the putrid water. But I will help you all the way since you shared your bagels with us. Make an appointment to see the Beach Inn. It is far from perfect but is a first step in freedom. This place means death for you."
I made an appointment to see the Beach Inn on Magnolia, not far from the Fountain Valley swamplands. Lola seemed distressed as a friend had been killed in Las Vegas. She seemed to like me and had me sign many papers. Her boss, a Jewish owner, peered in on a video and wished that I add a co-signer. My daughter did sign the lease as a co-renter.
I knew that I couldn't come up with the $1,650 a month rent with a double security deposit. The streets and the Motel Six was looking as my last resort. Again I heard a tapping at my bedroom window.
"Go to your mail box. You will find a check that will provide the needed extra security deposit."
In the middle of the night, I strode to my mailbox and to my delight saw a small envelope. Inside was the money for the extra security deposit. The next day, I rode three buses to get to her location off of Talbert Street. Lola was busy and wished to show an apartment to q young couple. I waited in the billiard room next to the office. It seemed like hours but she did finally return.
"George, I am going to dispense with the credit check. Just give me the first month's and the two security deposits."
I removed a wad of Big Ben Bills from my rubber band and counted thirty six if then for her. She smiled and took the bills.
"Here is the keys to the apartment along with the garage and mail box key. Welcome to our apartment."
Exhausted and hungry, I walked across the street to Taco Bell and celebrated. I had a few bucks left for the rest of the month but now clutched the key in my hand. Somehow I felt alive again as this thorny one in the cage could not rumple my life anymore. Yet I still had to stay there until my stuff was removed to the new place.
I had been placing things inside boxes and throwing out a lot of stuff. It was me against the world. After two weeks, I just could not stand it anymore. The building reeked of her witchlike look. Without furniture, I walked to the bus stop and made a last call.
"Lola, do you know of any movers."
"Yes I will get back to you George."
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