These Dreams of You

~ ~ ~

Now Zan and Viv are many months delinquent on the house, which has been scheduled for foreclosure twice only to receive stays of execution at the last moment. Their debt to credit card companies has reached a level Zan doesn’t want to know. “We don’t know how much we owe?” Viv whispers so the kids won’t hear.

“We do know,” says Zan. “A lot.”

“But shouldn’t we figure it out exactly?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Zan says, “I need to be able to get out of bed in the morning. Because quantifying it with more precision won’t make it any less or any easier to deal with. Because sometimes you need a little denial in order to function.” In his head Zan figures it’s about $135,000. Various credit accounts have been closed or canceled or their limits strategically have been lowered to less than the balance. Wall Street hounds the Nordhocs ceaselessly, phoning hourly; if Zan scrounges up a grand on a $1,200 bill, the lender relentlessly pursues the outstanding $200 dawn till midnight. New bankruptcy laws are a Rube Goldberg contraption, disqualifying the family for owing too much or too little, for earning too little or too much. Zan’s conversation with an attorney about the situation is the financial equivalent of being told by a doctor he’s terminal.