Zombie Tales: Primrose Court Apt. 205 Read Free Page A

possible too.
    I went to my journal and jotted down a note.
There was no way I would put up with an instrument being played
right over my head, not at any time of the day. I was already
dealing with arguments from above me. Plus old Mrs. Farrow next
door was half deaf and kept her television loud enough to shake the
wall between us. Then there was the lady in apartment 105, just
beneath me. I think she had four kids, but it might as well be
forty judging by the amount of noise. If I didn’t need the passive
income, I’d kick every single one of them out of my building.
    The mystery of the black case wasn’t a
mystery for long. It turned out not to be a musical instrument
after all, it was much worse. To me it sounded like some kind of
grinder or sander; whatever it was it was loud. It seemed to be
vibrating the entire building. Mother’s fine china was rattling in
the hutch and I had to pull the display pieces down before they
rattled right out of the cupboard.
    I went to the broom closet and snatched up my
swifter. Using the handle, I pounded on the ceiling in the dining
room where the noise was the loudest. I pounded again and finally
the teeth rattling noise ceased. Mr. Grimly would have a lot of
explaining to do.
    I went to my phone and dialed Gus’s number,
Gus is the onsite building manager.
    “Yeah,” Gus sounded as if he had a mouthful
of something.
    “Gus? This is Mr. Granger; do you have any
idea what Mr. Grimly is doing?”
    “Ah… not at the moment…no.”
    “Well, I don’t know either, but he’s making a
terrible racket and I’m concerned that he is damaging my
property.”
    “Umm… I could ask him to keep it down…”
    “Keep it down?” I asked, “How about you go up
there and see what the hell he is grinding on in my building?”
    “Well, Mr. Granger, I would but… ah… there’s
a law that says we got to give twenty-four hours notice before
entering someone’s residence. If he doesn’t want me to come in, I
can’t force him. You might try property management or the police.
Is he still grinding? I don’t hear anything.”
    “No he quite a few minutes ago,” I
confessed.
    “Maybe he’s done.”
    “That’s hardly the point, Gus.”
    “Well, like I said. I could go up and ask him
to keep it down if you like, but if he’s done…” he let his words
trail off, I think he went back to eating his lunch.
    “Forget it, if he starts in again I’m just
going to call the police, see how he likes that.”
    “You do that, Mr. Granger, sorry I couldn’t
be more help.”
    He definitely had a mouthful of food that
time; I could barely understand a word he said.
    I hung up the phone and listened intently for
any sign that Mr. Grimly was still intent on destroying the
upstairs apartment. I didn’t have to wait long. The thick hum and
vibration started again. I moved through my apartment trying to
determine exactly where the fat man had moved. The grinding was
loudest in the bathroom this time. It sounded as if he were
drilling holes in the tub.
    I thumped on the ceiling again, but with the
machine going I doubted he could hear me. I thumped again and
again, and then finally I gave up. Time for drastic measures I
thought and dialed 911.
    “911, what is the nature of your
emergency?”
    “There’s a man upstairs who may be destroying
my property,” I told the woman.
    “Is he an intruder, sir?”
    “No, he’s a tenant. He’s not in my apartment,
he’s upstairs in his apartment.”
    “…and you say he’s destroying your
property?”
    “I said he may be destroying my property, I
own the building.”
    “Sir, this doesn’t sound like an emergency to
me…”
    “It’s not an emergency.”
    “The 911 service is for emergency calls only,
in the future if you would like to lodge a complaint you’ll have to
call on a direct line.”
    “So… what, you can’t help me?”
    “I’ll send a patrol car around to
investigate; do you have an apartment number?”
    “Yes, I’m in