Chapter 2 Payday

The man in the jacket took a few strides forward, positioning himself in front of the half-meter-high barbed wire fence. After confirming he had the right person, he introduced himself, saying, "I'm Bruce, working for boss Vincent." Martin was in the midst of recalling his dealings with the loan shark when he inquired, "Is there a problem?"

Bruce leaned his hands on the old barbed wire, stating, "Word is, that old scoundrel Jack Davis has skipped town. The boss sent me to give you a heads-up; don't forget the debt you owe. Payment for the first installment is due next week."

The debt had been accrued by Martin's predecessor, Martin Davis, and he knew he had to tackle this head-on, "It's not overdue yet."

Bruce offered a friendly reminder, "Just preparing you, be ready." He withdrew his hand and wiped it clean, then adjusted his belt and straightened his jacket, revealing a pistol tucked under his arm.

With an innocent smile, he assured, "Don't worry, we're all law-abiding folks at the Hulk Mansion. The boss always teaches us to follow the rules."

Martin eyed the pistol, and his initial instinct was to make a run for it. The usual protocol for being unable to repay a debt was to escape. But how could he flee without any money?

Recalling something Elena had mentioned, Martin queried, "Hey, do Stripper at the Beast House make good money?"

He remembered that being a gigolo was a legal profession that could provide a decent income.

"Fortunately, I'm doing well; I rake in quite a bit in tips every night," Bruce replied, inspecting Martin carefully. Martin had a well-proportioned physique and an attractive appearance. Bruce chuckled, "The Strip Club just opened, and we're short on staff. The locals are well aware of it. With your looks and physique, you'd be a hit there. Middle-aged women who are starved for attention love guys like you. You can make good money, buddy."

Could this serve as an alternative? Martin mused, "I'll think about it."

Bruce got into his car and departed.

Sounds emanated from the adjacent yard where Elena's brother Hall was still digging that hole.

Martin planned to approach the handyman to collect his wages, resolving his imminent food problem. As he contemplated, he realized that Max, the handyman's office, was somewhat distant from the Clayton community. A long walk could worsen his leg injury, incurring additional medical expenses.

Taking the bus was the only viable option. Although Atlanta's public transportation was far from ideal, there was a bus from the Clayton neighborhood to Max's office on the main street, costing just fifty cents one way.

Martin checked his wallet, but it was empty. With the little money remaining, Harris had purchased some medicine for him. Dr. Bill had prescribed veterinary medicine, which Martin dared not take, even if it was offered for free.

Peering next door, Martin contemplated raiding the kid's stash but quickly dismissed the idea. Instead, he searched his own home, finding only a quarter.

Martin recalled that Elena's father, Scott, operated a grocery store and bought stolen goods and scraps. His gaze fell on the wooden house next door.

The house contained nothing more than basic old sofas, low wooden tables, and a dilapidated wooden bed. Any valuable furniture or appliances had long been removed by the Carter family to trade for money. What remained was not only broken but also heavy.

With a leg injury, Martin couldn't manage carrying sofas and tables to sell. He retrieved a pair of pliers with damaged insulation from under a low wooden table, went to the side of the yard adjacent to the Carter's house, and snipped off a section of rusty wire mesh fence, rolling it up.

The barbed wire had many sharp edges, making it tricky to handle. Martin returned to the house and rummaged around before pulling out a rope from under the bed.

Martin wondered, "Would it be alright to sell the Carter family's barbed wire fence to Scott Carter?" He didn't think it would be a major issue since many houses in the community had similar fences.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the air from next door, sounding like Harris.

Martin hurried out and briskly approached Carter's house.

In the yard of the Carter residence, a bicycle lay haphazardly on the ground. There was a pit beside the front wheel, with fine soil cascading into it through the collapsed cardboard.

Harris sat on the ground, nursing his arm and shedding tears of pain.

Hall Carter, who was only ten years old, stood before him, taunting, "Come on, crybaby, get up!"

Harris retorted angrily, "Shut your mouth, you moron! There's a 90% chance my left hand is broken!"

Hall's tone softened slightly, "I was just messing around, set a little trap for you. You're too easy..."

Martin recalled a similar injury he had seen while working as a substitute. He approached Harris, inspecting the injury closely, and remarked, "Tough break, buddy. Looks like you hit the jackpot with a broken left arm."

"Damn it!" Harris exclaimed, sweat dripping from his forehead due to the pain.

Hall felt remorseful, took a step back, and settled on the ground.

Seeing that Harris had no other injuries, Martin suggested, "You need medical attention. I'll take you to Dr. Bill. You said he's got great medical skills." Harris looked alarmed, responding, "Bill can't set broken bones. If you go to him, I might end up disabled. The chances are like 100%."

"The Carter family might get an extra subsidy for having a disabled member!" Martin added playfully, emphasizing, "Just try not to move your left arm."

Quick footsteps echoed, the door creaked open, and fourteen-year-old Lily Carter rushed out, asking, "What did you two idiots do? Hall, how did you manage to create this pit?"

Martin intervened, instructing, "Go and let your sister know. Harris broke his arm."

"I'll go borrow Mrs. Wood's phone," Lily replied as she dashed diagonally across the street.

Martin strategically continued the conversation to distract Harris, "Back so soon?"

Gritting his teeth, Harris replied, "Sister Cole is busy and not at home."

Within minutes, Lily returned with a mobile phone in hand, saying, "Elena borrowed the car and is rushing back."

Upon hearing Elena's name, Hall started inching away, shifting his weight back little by little, attempting to escape.

Elena worked nearby, so she returned quickly.

She was so rushed that she hadn't even changed out of her teddy bear costume pants.

Upon discovering Harris's condition, Elena reached into her wallet and quickly counted the money, taking out a few one-dollar bills, five-dollar bills, and two twenty-dollar bills. Anxious and agitated, she reassured, "Don't worry, I'll figure something out, there must be a way!"

Martin, who had been enjoying free meals for a week, patted her shoulder, saying, "Give me the car keys."

Elena subconsciously handed over the car keys.

"You guys wait here for a moment; I'll go sort things out." Martin accepted the keys and headed toward the car.

Lily Carter suddenly caught up, offering Martin the borrowed mobile phone, "Take this. If we can't pay back the money, you can reach Elena anytime..."

She reached out her finger hesitantly, drawing it back, and extending it again.

Martin playfully pressed a finger to Lily's forehead and gently pushed her away.

Entering the car, he familiarized himself with the controls, recollected something, started the engine, and drove out of the Clayton community, heading south.

Max's office was situated on the outskirts of Marietta's business district. The road from Clayton to this area was riddled with potholes, and the traffic crawled along at a slow pace.

After approximately half an hour, Martin reached a four-story office building, parked the car, entered the building, and climbed to the second floor, where he located the Max Maintenance Company office bearing a sign.

Knocking on the door, a burly Latin man inquired, "What do you need?"

Martin replied, "I work for Mr. Max, and I'm here to discuss work with him."

The blinds of the inner office parted, and a voice beckoned, "Martin, come in."

Entering the inner office, Martin quickly scanned the room. Teddy bears of various sizes adorned display windows, shelves, and desks. Even family photos on the desk featured large teddy bears as the backdrop.

In the photos, a family of four beamed with happiness.

A warm, harmonious, and joyful family, they were evidently teddy bear enthusiasts.

Skilled in reading between the lines, Martin noticed something else.

A few scattered white powder specks dotted the pile of documents on the wooden desk. Middle-aged Max seemed to have a penchant for sniffing, as some of his nose hairs were faintly tinged with white. His eyes above his sizable nose appeared congested and red.

Coming from a lower-class background, Martin had encountered many individuals with similar issues, such as Scott Carter and Emma Carter.

Max appeared slightly jittery as he inquired, "Is your injury better?"

Martin replied, "I've been experiencing headaches, occasional pain, and my legs still hurt."

"You're here for your wages, I presume." Max opened the central desk drawer, retrieved a cash check, and slid it over to Martin, saying, "This is yours."