El Rancho del Corazón

17 Mortgaging Our Souls

I GRABBED A PLATE of food and looked around at the various groups who were gathered in our yard. Thank goodness it was a decent night, though we were all swatting at mosquitoes and bug spray was being passed around. I’d lit a fire, even though it wasn’t near dark yet. Just having it crackle away was an awesome feeling. I stood staring over it as I surveyed the group.

Mr. Duval was in an intense conversation with Hannah. Mr. Pratt was talking to Anna, Mom, and Dad, and was nodding his head a lot. Teri Pratt was questioning Rose and Mr. Davis. Mr. and Mrs. Clinton approached my parents. Rev. and Mrs. Gordon were standing beside their daughters and looked like they couldn’t be prouder of the way Hannah was talking to Mr. Duval.

“I suppose you will want her to move in with you, too,” a voice said from beside me. Nikki’s mom actually put an arm around my waist. “You know you have been very good for her these past two years, in spite of the tattoo,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Duval. It might sound strange, but I really think Nikki has made the right choice. I’m going to miss her like crazy and I hope she comes here for at least part of her holidays, but she’s really made for Brown. She’s… she’s brilliant, ma’am,” I said.

“That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t believe me,” Nikki said, putting her arm around me from the other side. “Are you trying to steal my boyfriend, mother?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Nikki, dear. You do have to keep me apprised of your relationships. I thought Liz was your boyfriend now,” Mrs. Duval said. My eyes had to be reflecting light as wide open as they were. I was between these two!

“Mother! You really have to pay attention. Liz is my girlfriend. Brian is my boyfriend. Really!”

“Well, honey, if you decide to get rid of either one of them, would you please toss him or her toward me. The Masons are all fine, but they are so stony.”

“Mothers,” Nikki huffed. “You can’t live with them and you can’t hide the bodies.”

What the fuck?

“Poor Brian,” Nikki whispered in my ear. “Still can’t tell when his crazy girlfriend is making a joke. Even with her mother.”

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“This is the part that I came up with, so I have to make the presentation,” I said when everyone gathered together.

“I understand that you came up with the whole concept,” Mr. Jones said. He seemed sober. His accent always got thicker when he’d been drinking.

“Parts of it,” I said. “The only thing I really care about is keeping my family together and getting us all to school this fall. The part I’m taking the blame for is the part about how to get the $75,000 that we need. I did a little research, but bankers don’t really talk to kids. I had to pretty much lie about what I wanted in order to get information. The ranch property itself is currently valued at $2,300 per acre. That’s $92,000, give or take a little depending on whether it is tillable or residential. But that’s what the county recorded as the value of your purchase, Anna Mom. An 80% mortgage on the land would yield $73,600. That’s close enough to the $75,000 estimate that I’d be willing to front any extra out of my own savings if necessary. The payment on that would come out to about $800 a month on a thirty-year mortgage. Nine of us plan to live here full-time, plus an additional payment from Hearthstone Entertainment for its use of the kitchen and to pay for utilities. We had all agreed to pay $100 in per month as rent on the house. With the payments that we were to collect, we would have $1,200 per month and pay Anna $1,000. The other $200 was intended to go to utilities. The same payment would provide the mortgage payment and a couple hundred as profit to Anna. Unfortunately, of course, we can’t take out that mortgage. Only Anna can.”

“There are a couple problems, Brian,” Mr. Davis said. “In most instances, land mortgages are only given on producing land. All the land here is fallow. Not to say that no bank would loan money on it, but certainly not 80% loan to value. More likely 50%. Secondly, the cost of land mortgages is higher than the 9.7% you found for home mortgages. It’s part of the whole real estate racket.”

“Then we don’t have an option,” I said, dropping my head. Damn it! I was sure I had it figured out.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Duval said. “There are private lenders.” I’d never heard of that, but what would I know? “I believe that Rex and Anna and I could put together a package that would be quite attractive and might not delay getting started.” Rex and Anna didn’t even look up. I had a feeling that they’d already talked, but I still didn’t get what Mr. Duval meant.

“What it means is this, Brian,” Dad said. “We’ll loan you the money. Not me. I don’t have it. But someone, whose name is not important to the deal, has agreed to front $75,000, at a commercial lending rate. That is currently 10% but it rises and falls with the market. You need to know that the interest rate could be 15% in two years, or it could be 5%. We don’t know. The investor will carry the loan for six months, interest free. That means that if your show suddenly started reaping big profits or if you came into a lot of money, you could pay it off at the end of six months for $75,000. It’s pretty generous.”

“It’s not free,” Rex said. “Everyone here wants to believe in you. We voiced that with our investment in your production company. But lenders require security.”

“What do we have for security?” I asked. “When it comes down to it, even what we own we mostly owe to our parents.”

“That’s true,” Anna said. “That’s why I’ve put the farm up as collateral. I’ll guarantee the loan.” It was too much. Too much responsibility. I just wanted to keep my family together. Somebody—and whoever it was had to be present tonight—was willing to put up the money to remodel the barn. Anna was willing to give them the farm—ranch—if we defaulted on the loan. It was too big a risk. We were a bunch of kids. I was going to turn it down. We’d have to find another way.

“Excuse us,” Rose said. “We need a casa meeting. We’ll resume in a minute.” She grabbed my arm and led me to the barn. All fifteen of us in the casa were present. Only nine of us would live in the barn if it was renovated, though. I’d depended on a hundred from each and three hundred from the production. If we took the loan to improve the barn, Anna would not get anything for her investment. She was supposed to get the $900 a month in rent.

“We can’t do this,” I said.

“That’s why we’re in here,” Rose interrupted. “So you wouldn’t go making any big statements until we talked about it.”

“But it’s too big a risk,” I complained. “If any of us default or if anyone leaves, we are up shit creek. Then ultimately Anna and the lender are right up there with us. And Anna wouldn’t be getting any income.”

“Brian, what do you think this barn is worth right now?” Jennifer asked. “I’ve seen the closing statements. Under value of outbuildings, the number listed was $25,000. You are going to put $75,000 and 30 people’s labor for two months into it. How much do you think it will be worth then? $100,000? $150,000? $200,000? Who is going to own this when we’ve increased the value by that amount? My mom. It might not be cash flow, but Mom’s assets are going to grow with every shovel of dirt we take out and every nail we pound. Take that objection off the table.”

“And Brian, Patrón, look at the faces in front of you,” Josh said, putting his arm over my shoulder. “I want you to look at each one. Start right here with Rose. Just look into her eyes.” He moved me further, forcing me to look into the face of each of my hearthmates. Jennifer. Elaine. Hannah. Courtney. Samantha. Liz. Nikki. Whitney. Mary. Sora. Sarah. Cassie. Then he pulled me around to look him in the eye. “Which of us do you think might default? Which of us wouldn’t move heaven and earth to make this work? There isn’t one of us who will ever miss our hundred-dollar payment.”

“Josh, there’s only nine of us living here who have to pay rent.”

“I’m paying. It’s my home, too. I just happen to be away at college this fall.”

“Same here,” Cassie said.

“This is where I plan to come for Thanksgiving and Christmas and breaks and summer,” Nikki said. “You said it was my home.”

“I’ve already told my parents that whether I get into IU or not, I’m moving here right after graduation,” Mary said. I looked at Sarah and Elaine. They grinned at me and nodded.

“You guys…” I said. I couldn’t go on. I was wrapped in hugs from every direction. It took a while before I could stop crying. “Let’s go sign some papers,” I finally got out.

 
 

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