Curtis Surrendered The Lease While The Refund Checks Were Printed

"No," I told Vera.

She let the silence stand.

"No salary label," I said. "No paper saying I approved what I didn't approve."

"Then those terms come out."

For two days, Curtis said he would fight until the building stood empty. During those two days, the lights stayed off and no receipts came in for him to spend.

Miles sent notices to the known creditors. The captains received the refund plan through Vera. Nobody was asked to trust a promise made behind the counter.

The settlement papers changed six times.

In the final version, Curtis resigned as manager. Miles became the company's limited manager for the sale and winddown. Curtis surrendered the lease on behalf of the company under the approved agreement.

My new company, Almonte Lanes LLC, would buy the listed equipment and supplies for the appraised $18,000. The documents stated exactly what was being sold and where the money would go.

The court approved the sale and settlement after the notice process. Vera made me read every page before I signed.

"Don't sign just because you're tired," she said.

I moved the red washer down each finished page.

Curtis had to return $18,400. He raised $8,200 at signing, partly by selling the van. The remaining $10,200 was covered by a judgment and six monthly payments of $1,700.

"What if he misses one?" I asked.

Vera pointed to the enforcement terms.

"Then we use this. We don't chase him around the parking lot."

I gave up the $4,200 in back rent. I owned that claim now, and I chose to waive it so the customers and outside bills could be paid.

That left $32,200 in customer and supplier debts. The agreed costs of the accounting, legal work, and winddown added $4,200.

The $18,000 sale and Curtis's full $18,400 repayment would cover that $36,400 total. Miles put the figures on one page.

For once, every dollar had a place to go before it arrived.

Curtis sat opposite me at the signing table. His lawyer handed him a pen.

"Does this keep the police out of it?" Curtis asked.

"No," Vera said.

He looked at Nolan, who gave him the same answer. The investigator already had the records I had provided. This agreement settled the civil dispute. It promised no protection from a criminal case.

Curtis signed.

He left his keys on the table, but I didn't pick them up. Those locks would be changed after the surrender took effect.

The first $26,200 reached the company account under Miles's control: my purchase money and Curtis's first payment.

Miles issued all $18,400 in tournament refunds first. He then paid the old league's $6,200 prize fund. The remaining $1,600 went toward the electric bill.

Each payment had a receipt. Each captain got the same written update.

"You're asking people to enter again?" Bev said when she collected her team's check.

"Only after their refunds clear. New company, new entry form. They can take their money and bowl somewhere else."

She looked at the check for a long time.

"That may be why they won't."

I spent the next week learning jobs Curtis had claimed only he could do.

I opened the new business account. I arranged fresh insurance, utility service, and the required local approvals. I paid a $900 utility deposit from my own funds. I set aside enough cash to keep the doors open without spending future entry fees.

Vera checked the transfer papers. Miles kept the old company's money separate. I signed new work agreements with the two desk clerks who wanted to return.

I hired an outside bookkeeper for a weekly review.

She asked who would check her work. I told her I would read the bank statement beside her report each Friday. She smiled and wrote that into our agreement. I liked her better for asking the question.

Then I changed lane nine's bearing.

The old one came apart in my hand. Its inner race had a rough strip I could feel with my thumbnail.

"You heard that through a wall?" the locksmith asked.

"It was trying hard to tell somebody."

He laughed and went back to fitting the new front cylinder.

Nineteen days after the lockout, I stood behind the service curtain and ran all twelve machines. Pins dropped, swept, and rose. The ball lifts rolled without a catch.

I walked three lanes away from nine and listened again.

No chirp.

At the front counter, I put my name on the staff board under Mechanic and Manager. I wrote both words small enough to leave room for the desk clerks.

The locksmith handed me two new keys. Outside, snow slid off the awning in soft little piles.

I had just turned on the lobby lights when Bev appeared at the glass, carrying a sign that said OPEN.