Sudetenland Tales by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Sudetenland Tales
Page 323
Ray C
The House on Prospect Avenue
Tropical Storm Shamiqua
Ray C had spent five years building a life in the Bronx, a life that felt solid despite the uncertainty that hovered over him like a shadow. He had arrived from Guyana with nothing but a duffel bag and the name of a cousin who had long since moved away. The city had swallowed him whole, but he had learned to carve out space for himself, brick by brick.
His home, a modest two story house on Prospect Avenue, was his pride. It wasn’t much, but it was his. He had saved every dollar from his job at the auto parts store, working under the table, fixing dents and repainting fenders. He had learned the trade quickly, his hands steady, his patience endless. The owner, a Dominican man named Luis, had taken a chance on him, and Ray had repaid that trust with sweat and skill.
The house had been a miracle. A friend of a friend had connected him with a seller willing to negotiate directly, no paperwork, no banks. It was a risk, but Ray had taken it. He had spent years fixing it up; patching the roof, replacing the pipes, painting the walls a deep blue that reminded him of the sky back home. It was his sanctuary, a place where he could breathe.