Selling it All (7 page)

Roxy smiled and nodded. “Yep, that's the one.
It's nothing but a bunch of sexually frustrated white bread
suburbanites, and you get to sabotage their party.” Roxy ran her
fingers through her straight red hair, as she giggled to
herself.

“I'm guessing that you have something in mind
already?” Sarah asked with a smile.

“Oh yeah, a
big
something!”

Sarah stepped out of the shower and wrapped
her long hair with a towel. As she stood in her steamy little
bathroom, she paused to gather her thoughts about the day.
The
day. This was the one that made it or failed. While the
cold tile floor chilled her, she walked over to her coffee maker.
She listened to it while it chortled and gurgled happily in her
quiet condo. She poured herself a large mug, and sat down to ponder
why Joe had not called her yet. He usually let her know when
something was afoot. His giant ego made him a real braggart, and
she was fearing that whatever he had planned was going to be real
big. So big that even he was scared of the outcome.

She thought back to the last planning session
with Jessica and Roxy. Man, she never knew those two cold be so
sadistic and weird! She was even doubting her own plans, as a text
buzzed in:

Good luck Miss Bella! It'll be fun having you
as my underling ;)

Sarah felt a twinge of relief at the sight of
Joe's text. She finally was coming to grips with the fact that she
had a bizarre sort of crush on him that was anything but healthy.
Part of her wanted to throw the towel in, just so she could be
around him as he ruled the world that she worked in. She knew there
was a sort of palpable bond between them. Their competitive little
escapades made them two parts of one entity. She didn't know if he
would ever acknowledge it, but she knew in her heart that he
felt
it.

She thumbed out a retort:

I already have a spot cleared off on my
mantle for your trophy Joey boy! = )

She paused to sip her hot coffee while he
responded:

Regardless, it's been fun. May the best
person (me) win!

She giggled at his arrogant attitude, and
strolled off to finish getting ready.

Joe stood on his veranda, as the fog slowly
gave way to the relentless California sun. While he sipped his
morning java, he looked at his phone to see if she would send one
last text. He hoped she would continue the little trash talk
session. He turned when heard Ernesto's Cadillac pull into the
driveway.

He watched the coastline, as Ernesto walked
up behind him on the Veranda.

“Today's the day boss man.” He said in a
mocking exaggeration of his real accent.

“I know.” Joe replied simply. He swirled his
coffee around in the mug, while a seagull soared around off the
cliff face.

“Ernesto, do you know why farming is such a
rewarding pursuit?” He queried his assistant.

“No, Why?”

“Because of all that prep work and planning.
If you fuck up one step, you lose your entire crop. You can't fake
it, and you can't reschedule it or renegotiate. You're just
screwed, and you have to tell your family that you're all going to
starve before the bank forecloses on your farm. It's absolute.
There's no cheating.” Joe's voice had become distant and
meditative.

“Okay boss, enough of the silly talk, you've
gotta get you're head in the game.” Ernesto said, as he fastened
his suit coat against the morning chill.

“You know what Ernesto? I like her. I really
like her. She's just the type of driven, competitive girl that's
been missing from my life the whole time. I might tell her too, but
she'd probably just laugh in my face and walk away. I can't take
that again.” He tossed the remainder of his coffee over the
railing, and watched as it sprayed out and dissipated in the air.
He turned to walk to the house, and limped a little as the cold
deck chilled the scarred soles of his bare feet.

“Are your feet hurting again boss?” Ernesto
asked with concern.

Joe waved his hand dismissively. “It's no big
deal. I should only have one more surgery left. After that, the
soles of my feet will be back to normal.” He said with a bitter
smile.

That afternoon, Sarah arrived at her open
house with a feeling of dread. She tried to cover all the angles,
but there was only so much you could do while trying to run your
own open house. As she set out her literature, she saw the one
family come on that she would never expect. The Nickersons came in
through the front door, right as Sarah was setting out little
snacks and sandwiches.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson! What a surprise!”
She said with genuine astonishment.

“We talked with Arron Nelson, and he told us
about the little competition that you have with some other realtor.
We both really liked your professionalism in spite of everything,
ans we're putting an offer on the house you showed us the other
day. Well, that is when they finally finish cleaning the little
foam chunks out of it.” Mr Nickerson said with a jovial laugh.

Sarah couldn't believe her luck! She won! All
she had to do was get through today intact, and she was home free!
She jumped up and down like a giddy teenager and hugged the
reserved couple with a death grip. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you! thank
you!” She said, as she bounced up and down.

Across the tract, Joe placed more hot dogs
and burgers on the grill. He had checked all the door handles, and
made sure that the vents were clear. After a thorough sweep, he was
sure that there was nothing that Sarah could do to hamper this
little event.

He had planned a barbeque to help entice the
minister of the most conservative bible church he had ever seen. As
the grill sizzled and smoked, the minister, Mr. John Goodwell came
over to speak with him.

“Joe, my good man! What a beautiful and
glorious day.” He said is a grating, pious tone. Joe simply smiled
and continued flipping burgers. He hated talking with the man, but
he needed the sale, and it meant too much to let it slip through
his fingers.

“Yeah, she's a nice one today...” He
offered.

The minister reached into a nearby ice chest
and pulled out a bottle of beer. As he snapped the lid off, he
continued to engage Joe in unwelcome conversation.

“You know the best thing about Verde Grande?
It's not just the top level golf course, or the big beautiful
homes, but it's that nice gate at the front. I love keeping out the
riffraff!” He said, as his big belly bounced in time to his raucous
guffaws.

Joe narrowed his eyes at the man. He was
dangerously close to throwing all this out the window for one good
swing at the fake little asshole. He heard the other parishioners
milling about in the back yard, and inside the house. He suddenly
saw them for who they really were. All of them were just fake, two
faced suburbanites that were hiding behind this whole God thing. He
flashed back to his time stuck in that little Airstream trailer,
and how the firefighters had to pull him away kicking and screaming
from his own trailer while his mom died inside. Everything welled
up in one instance, and he found himself running toward the front
door when Ernesto intercepted him.

“Where you going boss?” He said. He was
mirroring Joe's own look of shock as he watched his boss freak
out.

Joe tossed the barbeque spatula to his
assistant. “You take over. I need some air.” He said, as his chest
began getting tight.

Out in the backyard, Sarah smiled in triumph.
She had bested the most prominent realtor at his own game! Should
she gloat about it? Naw, she'd tell him when all was said and done.
She kicked her shoes off and walked around on the immaculate grass
while it spread up in between her toes.

All the couples were milling around and
talking amongst themselves, so she decided to go and rub elbows
with everyone. Shoes or not-

It was then that she tripped over a thick tow
cable running into the back door of the house. “
When did that
get here?
”She gauged it at maybe one inch in diameter, as she
followed it through the living room, down the steps, and out to the
front yard. It came to a stop, right at her car. A quick peek
underneath revealed that it was securely fastened to the
undercarriage with bolts and screws. A sudden feeling of dread
swept away her previous optimism, as she ran back in the house to
find out where the other end stopped.

She followed it back to the rear fence. As
she peered over the cedar planking, she saw a large dump truck
nestled in amongst the trees behind the house. The end of the cable
was securely latched to the back of the truck!
He
wouldn't....

Like a person on auto pilot, she didn't
recall running inside to clear everyone out. Everything seemed to
move in some kind of blurred slow motion, as she ushered every last
person out to their confusion and displeasure.

She was pulling her phone out when she heard
the truck in back thunder to life. Her heart was beating out of her
chest, as a wave of panic swept the group of prospective home
buyers on the front lawn. What happened next would go down in
history as the most insane version of professional rivalry ever.
She watched her cute little electric car, as it was slowly dragged
to the front door by the thick cable. Once the little car met the
front door, it began twisting and deforming as the truck towed it
into the front of the house. Sarah watched with morbid fascination,
as the car continued to be slowly dragged through the bottom floor
of the house as it destroyed everything in it's path. The house
buckled and shook as the car passed through one wall after another.
Once it cleared the back stairs, what was left of her car clattered
down to the back yard and was hauled off with the alarm still
blaring and beeping. She reached into her purse and turned off the
alarm with a compliant “beep”, while it continued it slow march
behind the dump truck.

She turned to look at the car-shaped hole
that had been punched through the house. The prospective buyers
looked at her from the other side of the hole, as random bits of
drywall and plaster fell to the ground. A pipe had been damaged,
and water flowed unbidden into the demolished remains of the
once-beautiful home.

Joe was trying to catch his breath. He had
never had a panic attack in his adult life, but he was experiencing
it now. As the outer walls of the large house loomed over him, he
shook his head and tried to get a hold of himself. A quick check on
Ernesto let him know that he was okay to take a quick walk. He
silenced his phone, and strolled out to the street to get some
air.

The pleasant day was not nearly as hot as it
was supposed to be. He swung his arms and adopted a brisk gait, as
he strolled on.

He heard a loud engine noise coming toward
him, and he turned in time to see the large dump truck. Tagging
along behind it was the wreckage of Sarah's little wind up car! He
knew that Ernesto had something planned, but he left it up to him
to take initiative on it. As the car banged and emitted a metallic
screech, Joe felt a big smile spread across his face. The first
adolescent giggles gave way finally to giant heaving laughter.
Tears of comedic ecstasy rolled out of him, while he watched a
large, black van pull onto the front lawn of the house he was
showing.

As he watched on, men began unloading from
the van dressed as some kind of law enforcement. His joy vanished,
as he ran back to see what the commotion was all about.

As he ran in the front door, he was stopped
by some guy wearing a SWAT uniform. With a gun pointed right in his
face, Joe held his hands up and did what the agent said.

“Put your hands on your head and face the
wall!” The large man said with authority.

Joe saw that the other guests of Mr. Goodwell
were all rounded up in the living room with their hands on their
heads as well. They emotions ranged from terror to anger, while Joe
felt his heart racing.

The man who stopped him at the door proceeded
to frisk Joe.

“Am I gonna find any contraband or weapons on
you sir?” The man asked. He took out Joe's phone and tossed it
aside, as he continued his search.

It was when the man cupped his crotch that
Joe got the sense that something was amiss.

“Well well well, it looks like this guy is
packing heat!” The man said, as he reached up to tear his shirt
off. The man proceeded to pull off his pants as well, and stood
there in only a gold g string

“Wait, what?” Was all Joe could utter.

The other men, right on cue, whipped of their
outfits with impressive synchronicity. Another man produced a large
boom box. As the song “I'm too sexy” blared through the cavernous
house, the men all began gyrating their hips and thrusting their
crotches in the faces of the ultraconservative party goers while
they sat on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Joe
shrugged, and made his way out to the backyard. He pulled one of
the burgers off the grill, as Ernesto looked on with pride.

“That's some weird music for a bunch of
church people.” Ernesto said. His position at the grill made him
oblivious to the commotion inside.

Joe chuckled to himself, as he watched the
good minister receive a
very
involuntary lap dance from a
couple of oiled up muscle men. He placed the burger inside a bun
and squirted on some mustard. “Yeah it is. These are great, by the
way.” His attentions turned to the delicious burger, as he
un-slienced his phone.

It rang almost instantly, and he unlocked it
and held it to his ear.

“You had to wreck my car.” Sarah said to him.
Her voice was even and calm, and had just a note of idle frivolity.
“You should have seen the hole it made!” She finally blurted out
with a laugh.

Joe took a big bite of his burger while he
smiled in the noontime heat. “That car didn't suit you. Nice choice
on the strippers by the way.” He said with his own little
laugh.