Charles Largent entered First National Bank of Staten Island on Monday morning and took the elevator to the top floor. He gave the secretary his name and was directed to the president's office. He waited outside the open door.

Mr. Angelo was sitting at his desk, his gray hair perfectly combed, his pin-striped three piece suit without a wrinkle in it, holding a telephone to his ear. He nodded to Charles while he resumed his conversation. Charles took off his Yankee baseball cap, pushed back his muscular shoulders, and raised himself to his full six feet four inches. When Mr. Angelo hung up the phone, Charles was beckoned forward.

"Hello, Charlie. Have a seat."

We didn't shake hands, Charlie thought. Not a good sign.

"Charlie, you've owned your apartment building, what, 3 months now?"

"Yes, sir."

"And already you missed a mortgage payment?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't help it. First, I had to replace the hot water heater- "

"Charlie." Mr. Angelo held up his hand. "Every business has its problems. A good businessman solves his problems, and moves on. You'll have the payment when, Charlie?"

"By next week, assuming everyone who owes -"

"Charlie." Again the silencing hand. "Next week is sufficient."

Mr. Angelo walked around the desk and put his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie, the previous owners of that apartment building are long-time friends of mine. They asked me for my opinion of you before they sold you their building and took back a mortgage. I vouched for you, Charlie. I told them, 'Charlie may be a young man' - what are you, 30?"

"32, sir."

"Yes. 32. I told them, 'He's a bit young to be owning an apartment building, but I think I know this young man's character. He knows the value of hard work because he saved up the $25,000 down payment on his own. He'll learn what he needs to know to make the building pay off.' "

Mr. Angelo stopped and looked sharply at Charlie. "Did I misjudge you, Charlie?"

"No sir."

"I hope not, Charlie." Mr. Angelo went back to his seat behind the desk and stared at Charlie. "I have been instructed to institute foreclosure proceedings if you don't send the mortgage payment within a week. Do we understand one another?"

"Yes, sir."

The phone rang, and Mr. Angelo picked it up. He nodded - Charlie was dismissed.

Charlie went directly to his little office in the basement of the Benziger Apartments. He opened the desk drawer and got out forms. He filled then in, went upstairs, and began knocking on doors.

"Charlie, what is this?" Mrs. Spinoza had her hair in curlers. The smell of spaghetti sauce and oregano wafted out her door.

"It's an eviction notice, Mrs. Spinoza. You haven't paid the rent."

"Charlie, I told you we had some surprise bills this month. The mister's car broke down and then the insurance came in ...."

"Mrs. Spinoza, I understand all that, but I have some surprise bills of my own."

"Charlie, you're not going to make friends with us this way."

"Mrs. Spinoza, it took me eight years to save up the down payment for this building. It was hand-me down clothes for my kids, no meals out with the wife, and a ratty, broken down old van for me. I'm not throwing those eight years into the Bayonne River, Mrs. Spinoza. I need the rent, and I need it by Friday, or you'll have to move out."

"You'll get it!" Mrs. Spinoza slammed the door behind her.

Julio Hernandez was next. Charlie knocked six times before the door was opened.

"Yes, Mr. Charlie." Julio greeted him in faded boxer shorts, scratching himself.

"Here, Julio."

"What is this, Mr. Charlie?"

"It's a paper that says you have to pay me the rent by Friday or move out."

"Mr. Charlie, why you wake me up like this? You know I work nights. I say you gonna get your rent, and you gonna. I just a little short this month."

"Juan, I'm a little short this month, too. Only it's with the bank, and it's not because I bought a new wide screen tv, like you. Now you either pay me when you get paid on Friday, or you leave."

A second door was slammed in Charlie's face.

Charlie went up and down the halls, knocking on the rest of the doors. The tenants that were home got the same unyielding response from Charlie, "Pay up or leave!" The tenants that weren't home got a notice taped to their door, with the big bold letters 'EVICTION' .

The last door Charlie knocked on was Sally Johnson's.

Sally answered the door after the fifteenth knock. She was wearing flannel pajamas, even though it was one o'clock in the afternoon.

"Yeah, what you want?" While she yawned, Charlie noticed Sally's belly.

"Sally, are you pregnant again?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So congratulations! Where's the father so I can shake his hand?"

"He out."

"Tell Martin congratulations when you see him."

"I ain't gonna tell Martin nothin' cause I ain't gonna see him."

"Why not?"

"Cause I ain't letting him back in here, that's why."

"Oh." Charlie took a deep breath. "Sally, how come I ain't seen the rent yet."

"Ask Martin. He know the reason you ain't been paid."

"Sally, you're the one I'm talking to. You're the one that's on the lease. You're the one who gets a check from welfare for the rent."

"Ain't you been listenin'? That no good man took my check."

"Yeah, but he couldn't cash it because -"

"Yeah, well, he forged my signature and cashed it anyway."

"No way. He can go to jail for -"

"Yes, way! And he already in jail, now, so it don't matter ... and not for forging no check either. For beating me."

"Beating you?"

"You think bein' pregnant might stop some men from raising they hand. Didn't stop him none. He took my check and bought crack with it. Caught him in the bafroom, smoking a pipe. I pitched a fit, we had it out, and he left pissed off. Soon as he leave, I find the rest of his stuff, and flush it. When Martin come back, he go looking for his stash. When he can't find it, he ask me, did I see it. I said, yes I seen it. And he say, well where is it then. And I say, I flush it down the toilet. Well, he went crazy, punching walls and kicking doors. Then he punched me. Right in the stomach, here. He hit me so hard he knocked me down. I called the Po-lice. They come and took him off to jail, and brought me to the hospital. Doctors took tests. They say I'm carrying a dead baby."

"That's terrible!" Charlie's own stomach turned at the thought of a dead fetus in it.

"Doctors say any day now I'm gonna pass this dead baby. They ain't sure if I can have no more children, neither. That man may have ruined me for that. Lucky I got the two I got."

Charlie paused a long time before he changed the subject. "Well, what are we gonna do?" He gave a guilty look at the eviction notice he was holding.

"About what?"

"About the rent."

"Told you I ain't got the rent money. It's gone. "

"Can you go to welfare for it?"

"Nope. Already asked. They say they ain't giving me no extra money."

"Can you pay me back next month?"

"I can pay you next month for next month. Welfare don't hardly pay enough to live on, let alone pay back what's owed."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"Didn't I just tell you?"

Sensing he was going around in circles, Charlie introduced a new point. "Doesn't your mother live around here, Sally?"

"Now don't go thinking I can ask her for the money, because I already done that, and she already said no."

"Actually, Sally, I was thinking we could move you over to her place."

"My Momma's already got a full house with every room taken."

"Do you have any other family?"

"Not around here."

"Look Sally, I don't want to put you out on the street."

"So let me slide for a month."

"I can't do that. I need the rent money to pay my bills. If I let you slide, all the other tenants will want to slide."

"All the other tenants ain't asking. I'm asking."

"Look, Sally, this isn't getting anywhere. The only logical thing to do is to have you move over to your mother's."

"Logical to who? Me, or you?"

"Sally, it boils down to your Mom's, or the street. I need a paying tenant, so I can pay my bills. You have to choose." Charlie held up the eviction notice.

Sally thought a long while. Finally she answered, "My Mom's, I guess."

"Good. I'll get some help, and we'll move you over."

"Whoa there, Mr. Landlord. I can't leave right now. I need time to pack. I ain't movin' so good with this big belly and this dead baby inside."

Charlie's belly did a flip-flop. "Okay, Sally, how about a week from now, we move you out? I'll bring some boxes. Whatever you haven't packed, we'll pack for you."

Sally nodded her head, and went back inside her apartment. Charlie tore up the eviction notice, and went on his way.

The following days were busy for Charlie. Tenants were knocking on his door, giving him fifty dollars here, $100 there. Everyone paid him something, and promised the rest by the following payday. Charlie received enough to make his mortgage payment.

On the following Monday, Charlie had a bologna sandwich and a glass of water for lunch. It was the same cheap bologna, and the same lousy city water he had been dining on for two weeks. After lunch he knocked on Sally's door, with two men along side of him. Sally answered after the twentieth knock.

"Yeah?" She was wearing the same flannel pajamas.

"Are you ready, Sally?" Charlie noticed Sally's belly was still protruding from her pajamas.

"Ready for what?"

"To move to your mother's. I have the men here to -"

"I ain't moving."

"Sally, we agreed. Last week -" The other two men looked at each other and shook their heads knowingly.

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind."

"Sally, do you want me to put you out in the street?"

"You do what you got to do!" Sally closed the door in Charlie's face.

Charlie evicted Sally Johnson.

Six months later, Charlie met Sally on the street. She was holding a beautiful little baby girl, dressed in a cute pink dress with pink bows in her hair.

Charlie then turned to the tenant he was telling The Dead Baby Story to and said, "The little darling was smiling and talking baby talk. She didn't know she was supposed to be dead, and I didn't have the heart to tell her."

Charlie used The Dead Baby Story as a tool, like he used a razor when he was a carpenter, to separate truth from fiction. Charlie told his tenants, before signing a lease, that the only way he would postpone an eviction were if they had an excuse better than The Dead Baby Story.

Charlie did not volunteer to tell The Dead Baby Story. He merely mentioned the title. Human nature being what it is, everyone asked to be told more. If Charlie were in a coy mood, he offered to defer the telling of the story for another time. Listeners would then plead with him to tell the story. Charlie was a pleasant fellow, and he obliged his audience. He told the story the same way every time. There was no need for embellishment - the story was a simple, yet profound work of art.

But there was a part of the story Charlie did not share.

After Sally slammed the door in Charlie's face and refused to move out, Charlie marched down to his office. He paid the moving men the last $100 in his checking account, and then filled out an eviction notice. He broke the pen when he pressed too hard.

Charlie stomped up the stairs to Sally's apartment and taped the notice to her door. Then he walked away, satisfied. He didn't turn around when he heard Sally's door open, nor when he heard the notice get torn off.

"You black bastard!" Sally shouted down the hall.

Charlie turned around as Sally's door slammed shut. There was a pile of torn paper in front of it. Charlie left it there.

Charlie discovered the Staten Island court system was clogged with evictions. It took him two months to get his case heard. He decided not to pay $500 to hire an attorney for such an open-and-shut case. Sally, on the other hand, was represented by a free Legal-Aid attorney. Sally's attorney plied the judge's sympathy while Charlie watched, helpless. It took five months to get Sally out. Charlie lost $3,000.

Charlie hated Sally Johnson after this bitter episode. Later, when he saw her walking down the street, pushing a baby carriage, he crossed over to confront her.

"How are you doing, Mr. Largent?"

"All right."

"Ain't she sweet?" Sally pointed to her baby.

"Yeah, sure. "

"Named her Martina, after her daddy. He's out, now, living with us. We got a place two blocks down, on Bismark. Martin's clean, too, and looking for a job."

"That's nice."

"Mr. Largent, are you holding a grudge against me?"

"Damn straight!" Charlie exploded.

"Shush, the baby's sleeping."

"Ain't that what dead baby's supposed to do?"

"Don't you talk that way about her. You got a problem, it's with me, not her."

"Oh, go to hell!" Charlie walked away.

Sally ran after Charlie and grabbed his shirt. "You wait a minute there, Mr. Landlord. We ain't finished, not a by a long shot."

Charlie stared at her hand until she let go of his shirt.

"Mr. Largent, I didn't have no place to go. My Momma wouldn't take me in. She said, 'You made your bed, girl, now you sleep in it. I ain't giving you one of mine.' Tell me, what was I supposed to do? I got babies to protect."

"Sally, you're full of shit! You lied and cheated me, the same as you lie and cheat the welfare department. You live your life by lies and cheating. My Momma lost two babies, and she was never the same afterwards. It would never occur to a decent person to lie about something like that. I hope you're proud of yourself. You ruined it for the next tenant who will really need help, because I'm not going to believe her!"

Sally looked directly into Charlie's eyes while her own anger seethed.

"You still ain't learned nothing, have you, Mr. Landlord?! You got to give people the benefit of the doubt until they prove themselves wrong!"

"That's easy for you to say, Sally. It doesn't cost you nothin'. You get free rent, free food, and free lawyers. I'm the fool that pays for your benefit of the doubt!"

"Oh yeah, I get free everything. I got three kids to raise, and a man living with me who is worse than a kid. That man did take my rent money, and he did punch me around for flushin' his drugs, and he did go to jail. I lied about the dead baby because I needed help from you, and I didn't think you'd give it to me any other way."

"Yeah, right."

"Look, I don't care if you believe me or not. It's the truth. And yeah, I take welfare. You seen how I live. Do you want to live that way? Do you want your kids to grow up that way?"

Charlie stared at Sally, still angry, but with nothing to say.

"Seems to me, Mr. Landlord, you the lucky one. You get to decide who to let slide, and who to come down hard on. Me, I'm never going to own any apartment building. I'm never going to decide who stays and who goes. I won't never have the chance to be lied to about rent. The only decision I'm ever gonna make is which bill to put off, and which one can't be put off. You think I got it so good, then you change with me, I'll change with you. Then we see who the fool is."

Their argument was interrupted when Martina woke up crying. Sally walked back to the dilapidated carriage and picked the baby up.

"You got her up, now you deal with her." Sally pushed Martina into Charlie's big arms.

Charlie held the baby, stunned. Martina stopped crying and stared at the giant looking down at her. The standoff was ended when she gave him a big toothless grin. Charlie laughed and talked baby talk to her. He turned to her mother, shook his head, and gave her a forgiving smile.

THE END