Chapter 4

I didn't run the house past Veronica before I bought it for Ivor.

I knew she'd never agree.

But I'd already done the math. Next month the research institute would pay out a project-completion bonus, roughly a hundred and twenty thousand.

Add a short-term loan from a few close friends I trusted, and I could scrape together two hundred thousand.

Enough to buy a small, run-down ground-floor place in the old district on the city outskirts, one with a little yard and no stairs to climb.

Shabby, sure, but it had heat, a flush toilet, and the farmers' market right outside the door.

Ivor living there, me swinging by every day after work to check on him, that beat anything else I could think of.

Two weeks later, Ivor was discharged.

Since I hadn't found the right house yet, I put him up for the time being at a Motel 6 out near the edge of the city.

"Theo, this place has to run over a hundred a night, doesn't it? Such a waste." Ivor leaned on his cane, staring at the big bed, and flat-out refused to sit down. "My leg's a lot better. I'll head back to the village tomorrow."

I watched him quietly slip the little bar of soap and the disposable toothbrush from the sink into his battered canvas bag, and something in me ached.

"Dad, don't worry about it. Just settle in and stay."

Saturday morning, I got in touch with a real estate agent.

The agent, a young guy named Keith, showed me a unit in the old mill workers' housing compound that I liked. Ground floor, sixty square meters, with a little yard of about ten. The previous owner needed cash fast; paid in full, it was only two hundred fifty thousand.

I sat on the couch in the agency office, my heart pounding. I'd already borrowed enough from friends to cover the gap. I could sign today.

"Theo, this place is perfect for an older gentleman." Keith slid the purchase agreement toward me, all enthusiasm. "Since it's paid in full, let's just put it in the old man's name. Makes it easier later for things like assistance benefits, or the community handing out rice and cooking oil."

I nodded. It made sense. I pulled out my phone and called Ivor.

"Hey, Dad, did you eat lunch yet?" I kept my voice as light as I could.

"I ate, I ate, had the free noodles from the motel." Ivor's voice still carried that hesitance. "Theo, this afternoon I'm going to head to the bus station—"

"Dad, don't go back." I cut him off, smiling. "I've found you a place in the city with a yard. I'm about to pay for it and do the transfer today. Dig out your ID, I'll come get it in a bit. This house, it's going in your name."

On the other end, dead silence, all at once.

A full ten seconds must have passed before I heard Ivor's heavy breathing come through.

"Buy a house? Put it in—in my name?" His voice suddenly shifted, no longer that plain, honest tone, but something jarringly off, high and sharp.

"Yeah, paid in full. From now on you can settle down and live in the city, no worries."

"No! Absolutely not!"

Ivor suddenly roared into the phone. In forty-five years, it was the first time he'd ever spoken to me at that volume.

"Theo! Listen to me, I don't want your house! My name absolutely cannot go on that deed! Absolutely not!"

And in his voice there was something he couldn't hide, a thread of panic, even a little tremor.

I froze. "Dad, what's wrong? Are you afraid of spending my money? Don't worry, this money is mine—"

"I said no and I mean no! Don't push me!"

"Beep, beep, beep—"

Ivor hung up on me, hard.

I stared at the dark phone screen, completely lost. I called back. A message said the number was powered off.

Keith looked at me, awkward. "Theo... so, are we still signing?"

I frowned, and a faint unease was rising in me. Ivor's reaction wasn't the reaction of a man worried about money.

That tone of his, it was almost like...

like he was terrified of what might come to light the moment his personal information went into the property system.