The first time I saw April, we were going door to door in a shabby Hispanic neighborhood, telling people to “repent or burn,” “Jesus saves,” “get saved” and “come to church.” April made me nervous because her eyes had a crazy, buggy glaze. It didn’t help the matter that she was talking incoherently about stabbing someone and miming it out.

When I ran into her again, eight years later, I was impressed by how much she had changed. She still laughed with a snort, and worked her lips and eyes around when she was telling a story, but her eyes felt more reasonable.

April was a big lady, almost 300 lbs. She had gotten a job at the community college in the dining facility, and she took the same math class every term. It was a pre-algebra class. She was faithful at church, I could always smell fries and bleach on her clothes when she was near. Her kids had lived with her, but when they graduated from high school and left, April was without a place.

I had a small one bedroom place, and I moved out of my room, slept on the couch, and let April stay with me. I charged her 20% of her earnings as rent. For about a year, I saved her rent money with the intention of giving it back to her when she left, but you know about the asphalt on that road to hell. She took the bus to work, but I picked her up. She complained about her math teacher and all the students in her class on the way home.

“They’re just talking about TV shows,” she did a neck roll and bugged out her eyes. “I just want to do MAFF.”

“Well, just sit on the sidelines and work problems from the book while they are small talking. There’s no reason to pick a fight about it. You’ll get to the math soon enough.” I said.

We lived together in some semblance of harmony for two years. She didn’t like my bathroom, which was decorated with bandannas, because it seemed gang-ghetto to her. So my bathroom became a standard dolphin and seashell room.

“You need to buy me a step stool. I can’t reach the cupboards” she said. I ignored her.

One day she came home excited, she passed her math class. Eight’s a charm. I really do admire her determination.

A month later, she came home from work excited, again. 

“I got laid off. That means I get to lay around all summer and do nothing,” she said.

“Hmmph.” I thought. I went to work and mentioned the situation to the guys. That was a bad decision, they didn’t know anyone lived with me, and after they found out that I lived with another woman – they just assumed, and people started picking on me.

Well anyway, Glenn said, “That woman is just using you, she’s a flop and she’s got to go.”

“I feel responsible for her.” I said.

“And she’s taking advantage of that.” Glenn said. “What would you do, if you had the house to yourself?” He asked.

“I’d move back into my room.” I said.

“You mean she lives in the only bedroom?” said Glenn. “Where do you sleep?”

“On the couch.” I said.

“OH! She’s got to go.” Glenn said, “You take your room back.”

“But she’s older and kinda big, sleeping on the couch would hurt for her.” I said.

Glenn raised his eyebrows and shook his head. I felt embarrassed for being so nice to April.

The cords to the air conditioners disappeared shortly after that. I was a diesel mechanic so I was used to working in the 110 degree Texas summer, so a warm house didn’t bug me. It hurt her.

“April wants me to drive her to Kentucky to visit her sister. She says a bus doesn’t go to where her sister lives. I don’t want to go.” I said to Glenn.

“Then don’t. If you say ‘no’ she’ll find a bus,” said Glenn. Glenn was a dark skinned black guy with long white hair. He knew how poor people think, better than I did.

I said “no” and the next day April was on a bus for Kentucky.

When she left, I went furniture shopping and bought a bedroom set and moved April into the living room, and I made myself comfortable in the bedroom. I even found one of the air conditioner cords, imagine that.

When April came back, she slept on the couch. I made her get up in the morning when I did, and made her leave the house until after five. She normally went to the air conditioned library.

After about two months, she found somewhere else to live. I felt bad about being mean to her, but with time I forgot all about it. She got a job at Walmart as a stocker, and an apartment after that.

Seven years have passed, and I don’t have a car, or a job. I rent a room from my brother and go to college. I’m taking my math class for the second time. Last month I told my brother that I couldn’t afford to pay rent. We have a standing agreement that I can work off my rent if I need to, but this time was different. It was like he was punishing me for not being able to pay, and doing sneaky things like taking my house keys while I was in the shower.

He found this old camper for me to tear apart. It had rat nests, piles of manure, termites, the skeletal remains of several cats – lovely place.

“I want to get it torn apart before dark,” he said. We started at noon, and it gets dark at five. Three hours in, I got the majority of it gutted, but swinging the sledge hammer did a number on my back.

“Uncle! I’m done,” I said. That was three weeks ago, and I just went to the doctor. I’ll get physical therapy, and I got some good drugs for it.

I was very angry, until today when I sat down and prayed about it, and remembered my poor hospitality to April.

Like they say - “Karma’s a bitch!”