Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-four
Iris’s nostrils began to flare before she even entered Rapacine’s brownstone apartment building.
A musty funk filled the vestibule as she punched in the entry code, and Iris surmised the landlord had left garbage in the hall again.
But when she crossed the threshold, she found the hallway clean and the stench unbearable.
Her hand flew to cover her nose and mouth as her entire body revolted at the putrid odor and the emotion that accompanied it: fear.
It smelled like death.
Iris banged on Rapacine’s door and called her name. She had feared this scenario since she first started helping the older woman during the awful early days of the pandemic.
At last the door swung open, and Rapacine stood there in a wide-brimmed straw hat and equally wide-eyed alarm. “What is happening?”
“Oh thank God.” Iris steadied herself on the doorframe. “Are you okay? What the hell died in here?”
“You thought it was me ? I am insulted.” Rapacine tutted. “One, I am not that old. And two, even my corpse will smell like flowers.”
Iris spoke through her shirt she had now pulled up and over her nose. “Please, I gotta get out of this hallway.”
“Come, it’s better at the back.”
—
In the garden, Iris let herself inhale. “Have you considered calling the police?”
Rapacine had gotten distracted by some weeds. “For what?”
“For the smell! The garbage was bad, but this is next level. They must have brought a dead animal or something.”
“There is no dead body of any species, I can assure you of that. It is merely a malodor. And a stink is not a crime. I googled it.”
“How are you so unbothered?”
Rapacine waved her hand in dismissal. “Did you know that no smell is objectively or inherently unpleasant? Scent is the most teachable sense of all. From a young age we learn to associate each scent with a memory and categorize it as good or bad based on that. Scent is our first signal to bond, to our mother, to her breast—or to avoid, a stranger, or a food that made us ill. It is not the smell of decaying flesh which repulses us, it is the association of death. It is only our own mortality that repulses us.” She put the last of the weeds into a brown paper bag and joined Iris at the garden table.
“And anyway, in fifteen minutes, your nose will go blind to it. In about eighteen hours the scent will be gone completely. The building appraiser came today.”
“Why would they stink-bomb the place on the day of their appraisal?”
Rapacine poured herself a glass of wine. “Because they didn’t make the stink. I did.”
Iris looked at her, stunned. Then she could only laugh.
“I have bad news for your case. My lawyer friend who was helping you, he’s been put on leave.
And I’m afraid his summer associate will also be unavailable.
But don’t worry, I’m gonna help you find another tenants’ rights lawyer.
Mike thought he could get you a buyout.”
“If I wanted money, I would’ve taken their previous offers.”
“What previous offer?”
“The last was about one hundred thousand dollars.”
Iris’s mouth hung open. “You turned down six figures?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want the money! This is my home, it has been for three decades, it is priceless to me. You can’t let people push you around. It is not right what they are doing to me, and I will not give in. I will leave on my own terms or on God’s terms. Money is not God.”
“They’re not gonna stop, Madame. And you fighting back is only going to escalate their anger. If you won’t consider any buyout, they have no motivation to play ball with you. I don’t even know if a lawyer could help you.”
“I don’t need any more lawyers, and I don’t need help. You must recognize when you have power, Iris, and you must not be afraid to use it. Others will try to scare you into believing you are helpless. It’s a lie.”
“But they can overpower you. They’re bigger, richer, they can out-litigate you, they can evict you.
You have something they want, very, very badly.
And they’ll be ruthless in their pursuit of getting it.
They’ve already shown a willingness to harass you!
I know you love this place, but that’s clouding your judgment. ”
“Love is never a weakness. Conviction has led many outnumbered armies to victory.”
Iris threw up her hands. “It’s not how the real world works, I’m sorry.”
“Ah vraiment ? I can think of some real-world examples. What does the tree frog do? What does the skunk? If they insist on trying to eat me, I will make myself noxious .” Rapacine banged her fist on the table.
Iris took a deep breath. Mireille Rapacine was either the dumbest or the most inspiring woman she knew, probably both.
Rapacine was so worked up that she’d sprung from the table.
Barefoot in the grass in a linen slip dress, her gray, wavy hair flowing over tan, speckled shoulders, the muscles of her wiry arms flexing as she parried an invisible enemy with a finger like an épée.
She looked as delicate as a fairy and as furious as a wildcat.
“It is not strong to take without permission. That is brutishness, not strength. Strength is to be the one who is taken from and yet continues on. I am a woman. I have been taken from my whole life. And I am still here. I am a force!”