The following morning, bright and early, I stopped by Prentiss’s house so he could ride over with me to check out Lloydie’s property.
“Prospect Lefferts Gardens!” Prentiss declared, as he slid into the passenger seat. “Moving on up, breddah.”
“Of a sort,” I replied, keeping my emotions in check.
The route from PanStar to the house was no more than a ten-minute drive- that was the first thing that was attractive to me.
And then we pulled onto the block.
One side consisted mainly of red brick pre-war apartment complexes on fairly well-kept lawns, set back from the street a bit. The other side was made up of private houses dating from the early 1900s. They were all some sort of hybrid Victorian style. Many had a private driveway and detached garage. There were people out and about, even in this early morning hour, but there wasn’t a lot of noise. Nothing about that block felt inherently rundown beyond salvation.
It was a whole different world from Crown Heights.
The three of us walked an unevenly paved pathway and up three stairs to a perceptibly rickety porch. Lloydie produced a key and unlocked the heavy wooden door.
We entered the front hall and immediately, I could see what this house could become.
What it would become.
I didn't want to think about what it was in its current state. I knew I had the time and the money to turn it into what I wanted it to be. And I liked it because it was the bridge between Crown Heights and Flatbush.
It was the path from my arrival to my elevation.
Plus, there was a really good roti spot around the corner, so I was willing to take a chance.
I gave Prentiss a tight nod. He raised his chin at me.
“When should I drop the check over by your sister’s?” I asked Lloydie, as I reached out to shake his hand.
