Generation Lost (Gray Wolf Security #17)

CHAPTER ONE

With the coffee poured and the pound cake sliced thinly so that each person could have a piece, the older woman took a seat and stared at her friends of thirty-plus years. They’d raised children together, grandchildren, muddled through recessions, measles, flu, job loss, job success, and yet here they were.

They were all in the same predicament. The same dim, no light at the end of the tunnel predicament. Every last one of them was barely able to feed themselves, let alone make their mortgage, pay their utilities, insurance, or even put gas in their cars.

“Ellen? What are y’all gonna do?” asked her friend Marion. Ellen looked at her husband Jim, and he nodded.

“Tonight, there will be a fire,” whispered Ellen. “We’ll race out, wait a few moments in confusion and panic, then call 911 and wait for the fire department to get here.”

“No!” gasped Marion.

“You can’t,” said Henry.

“We have no choice,” said Jim. “I won’t watch the bank take my house when I know they’ve been cheating us, raising our interest rates beyond what’s reasonable. We can’t afford the insurance any longer, and it’s only paid up until the end of the month. We’ve got nothing left. No options. We’ve tried everything. We’ve called any authorities that we thought might help. Hell, we even called a lawyer, and he laughed at us when we said we couldn’t pay him.”

Their friends shook their heads, tears in their eyes, knowing exactly how they felt.

“Let us help you get your things out of here,” said Marion, looking around at the memories of her friends’ lives.

“No. No, you can’t,” said Ellen with tears rolling down her face. “If we take out our prized possessions, they’ll know that something was up. We’ve put a few things in the trunk. A suitcase each of clothes, a few photos, but that’s it. We can’t touch anything else. It will all have to go when the house catches fire.”

“With the insurance money, we’ll at least be able to afford a small trailer or apartment for a while,” said Jim. “Everything is so much more expensive, and my medications don’t help. I wanted to take an overdose, but Ellen wouldn’t let me.”

“Don’t talk like that,” sniffed Ellen. “I need you to be healthy, and the medications are keeping you alive. Besides, our insurance won’t pay on a suicide.” They all chuckled, nodding their heads.

“It’s everything, not just medications,” she said. “Milk costing more, eggs costing more, heck, we started buying powdered eggs and milk because it’s so much cheaper. Tastes awful, but there’s nothing else to do. We’ve been buying the store brands only, cutting back on anything not necessary, and believe me, the cheaper toilet paper is making my bottom very aware of the issues.” Again, they laughed with their friends to prevent them from crying.

“We haven’t had red meat in I can’t tell you how long. Usually, I catch some fish, and that’s what we have.”

“We’re all in the same boat,” said Marion, looking at their other friends. Greta and Joan were widows. Tom, Phil, and Boris were widowers. Then there was Grace and Herb, Otto and Patricia, and Clinton and Lila. The group had lived in the same neighborhood for almost their entire adult lives. Peacefully raising children, burying a few children and spouses, and now they were all about to be homeless.

“There just has to be something we can do,” said Joan.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing,” said Ellen. “The bank is threatening to take the house. We can’t afford the repairs to make it worth selling, which, as it turns out, is a good excuse for the fire.” Her sad expression made the others sad.

“You can stay with us,” said Clinton. “We’ve got an extra room.”

“We appreciate that,” nodded Jim. “But for how long? You’re in the same boat we are. Since that mortgage company came in and took over all our mortgages, we’re all in the same rotten situation.”

“How will the fire start?” whispered Clinton.

“That old fuse box is about to blow any minute. We’ll just speed up the process,” he said, nodding.

“Do it now,” said Joan. They all stared at her, their faces showing shock and surprise. “Do it now, and it will look more believable with all these people as our witnesses. We were all just having coffee and cake, and suddenly, we smelled smoke. We got out, but that was it.”

“No,” said Jim. “No, I won’t risk your lives!”

“It’s no more risk than your own life,” said Otto. “I agree. It’s a good idea. Let’s go make sure it sparks soon, and we’ll wipe our prints from the fuse box.”

The two old men made their way to the utility room, opening the ancient fuse box. There were loose wires everywhere, and given time, it would have started all by itself. They were just going to speed up the process a bit.

Wiping the area around the box, they looked at one another and nodded.

“It’s been a good old house,” said Jim, wiping his eyes. “I built that back porch for her so she could watch the kids play in the summer. And that walkway out there, I paved that myself. All the paint and wallpaper…”

“We’ll find a way, buddy. Come on.”

Back upstairs, they drank their coffee in silence until someone said they smelled something burning. When flames began coming from the utility room, they rose slowly and headed toward the door. With one final look back, Jim and Marion stepped off their porch and into the street. They waited about five minutes, then nervously making a call to the fire department.

The old timbers of the house did their job, burning like kindling as the electrical fire spread through the entire house. By the time the fire trucks arrived, they were huddled on the curb, crying against one another. Genuine tears of sorrow, despair, and unimaginable loss of their entire lives.

“We’re sorry, sir. There was nothing to be done. Everything is gone,” said the firefighter.

“I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“What do you mean our insurance doesn’t cover the fire?” gasped Ellen. The insurance man stared at her with a sly smirk.

“It’s quite simple. During your last renewal, we sent you the renewal notices explaining all the changes to your policy. There were quite a few,” he smiled, shaking his head. “Your insurance no longer covered flooding, broken pipes, fires, roof replacement, or any natural disaster, including hurricanes which is a shame considering where you live. It was all in the paperwork.”

“That document was over a hundred pages long! How could you expect us to review that on our own,” she yelled. Jim gripped her hand.

“This is against the law,” he said, shaking his head. “This can’t possibly be legal.”

“I’m afraid it’s not against the law, and it is legal,” he smiled. “You’ll receive a small sum for personal items, roughly, let’s see, roughly twelve hundred dollars.”

“Twelve hundred dollars? Are you joking? We lost everything. Our photos, clothing, china, everything!”

“Yes, it’s a terrible shame, but again, you didn’t review the policy and update your personal amounts for reimbursement. Of course, if you’d like to rebuild, we’re happy to help you find someone who will finance the rebuild. Otherwise, you’ll need to sell the land to the developer in the area.”

Jim stared at his wife, understanding very clearly now what was happening. The insurance company, the mortgage company, and the new developer were all in on this together.

“You mean the developer who is relying on you to get us all out of our homes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” said the man. “Here’s your twelve hundred. I suggest you hurry along and find a place to stay tonight. It’s going to be a wet one, and we wouldn’t want to see you get sick or anything.”

In their old sedan, Ellen broke down, sobbing so hard Jim was worried he’d have to take her to the hospital. When they pulled into their friends’ home, they all came out with smiles on their faces until they saw their expression.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t cover fire. Our policies were all changed,” sobbed Ellen. “Check your own. They don’t cover fires, natural disasters, flooding, pipes breaking. It’s a long list of things no longer covered. They knew it. They knew it, and they’re working with that developer who’s been trying to get us to sell.”

“They didn’t give you anything?” asked Otto.

“Twelve hundred dollars,” said Jim. “That’s it. That’s all we get.”

“Oh, my God,” whispered Marion. “What will we do? We’re all in the same boat.”

“For now, you can stay with us,” said Grace. “At least you’ll be warm and dry for a few days.”

“A few days?” frowned Jim.

“We received a foreclosure notice this morning,” said Herb. “We have until the end of the month to leave, which is only a few days away. We thought we had more time.”

“Oh, no,” whispered Ellen, looking at Grace. Her friend gave a sad smile, nodding.

“We moved some boxes to Otto’s garage, but most of what we have we’ll have to sell. The apartments we can afford are horrible. They’re in terrible neighborhoods, and the crime rates are atrocious. We wouldn’t last a week in a place like that.”

They sat in quiet for a long while, just staring at the houses being torn down around them. It was all going to be gone soon. All of it. It would be torn to the ground, cleared, and modern condos and townhomes in their place, or worse, if the rumors were true, a casino.

Their once historic neighborhood of lovely little post-war cottages would be gone. The memories of generations of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren gone. The park where they’d once played little league baseball was now nothing but a patch of dirt. The grass long gone, the swings gone, all of it nothing but a faint memory.

“This is exactly what happened with the others, isn’t it?” asked Greta. They all turned to look at her.

“What do you mean, Greta?” asked Herb.

“We all thought they’d moved on, were living with their children, or found something. But they didn’t, did they? They’ve disappeared. All of them have disappeared, and we’re next.”