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light. Jack clicked it on and saw a maintenance room that was dirty, smelly, and totally inadequate. There were dusty shelves holding old bottles of various liquids, all dark and mysterious. The right wall was lined with a variety of shears, spades and saws, each with old worn handles. A table was at the far end covered with tools that had been tossed there by the previous user. A lazy, dirty bastard, Jack thought.
    Jack knew he’d better inspect the rest of the building to see what he was really up against. He headed for a door at the back and stepped over moldy boards and piles of dirt. He brushed against a broom hanging on the wall. The broom had pale green residue on the ends of the bristles.
    The door opened into a dimly lit hallway with red carpeting. A light flickered at one end, with a stairway beyond. Doors lined the walls every twenty feet and Jack headed towards the stairs noticing the uneven plaster, the large ornate trim around each door. The place looked like it was built in the 1800s. He began to wonder if he shouldn’t have called the work-from-home number in the newspaper instead.
    At the end of the hallway there was a door marked BOILER ROOM. He pushed the door open with effort and saw an enormous furnace that looked recently installed. It was fed by a natural gas line that crept up the wall and exited through a hole to the outside. It wasn’t running so Jack checked the pilot light to make sure it was lit.
    “Are you the new handy?”
    Jack spun around and saw a little girl standing in the doorway. She had bright green eyes and black hair and she wore a white sun dress with red polka dots. She held a Tootsie Pop in her hand.
    “Yes. My name’s Jack.”
    “My name is Madeline. I’m six years old. Mommy saysnot to talk to people here, but the last handy was funny and he fixed our door. Do you fix things?” Her voice sounded earnest.
    “I try. Do you need something fixed, Madeline?”
    “I sure do.” She paused. “I’m scared of our walls.”
    “Your walls?”
    “And the floor is green,” she said.
    “Well, let’s go take a look. I’m sure there’s no reason to be afraid.” Jack hoped he sounded more convinced than he was. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with Apartment Building E and it wasn’t the cracked foundation or the run down interior. It’s that damned tree.
    Jack knew it was common for trees that grew too close to houses to spread mold over the roof. The tree would drop spores on the roof and the shade would keep the sun from drying it out. The area became damp and moldy and eventually the shingles would have to be replaced or the tree cut down. He wondered why someone didn’t cut that monster willow down ages ago.
    Madeline led Jack up the stairs and into the second floor hallway.
    “Mine is at the end.” Madeline said and replaced the Tootsie Pop in her mouth. “Ong za right.”
    Of course, Jack thought. The same side as the willow.
    When they got half way down the hallway, large pounding sounds broke the stillness and caused Jack to stiffen. It sounded like they came from behind the next door. Jack glanced at Madeline. She looked unconcerned.
    “That’s just Marge. She’s got cats.” As if that explained it.
    Jack began, “Does Marge—”
    The door flung open and a large elderly lady emerged and nearly bowled Jack over. She was frantic and held a cat under her arm. Bare feet, wearing a pale yellow gown. Curlers in her hair. The cat had sharp greenish eyes and was scratching and biting, trying to get away. It had drawn blood on Marge’s side, but she didn’t seem to notice.
    “I didn’t do it! Tell them I didn’t do it! He’s still alive !” Her eyes glowed a deep green. They had the same faraway look Jack had seen in his cousin’s eyes when he went to visit him in the nuthouse.
    Marge lowered her head and ran between Madeline and Jack. She knocked Madeline to the floor and pushed Jack against the wall.
    When she got near the stairs