So as it turns out, that letter of eviction that came through Cassius’ door wasn’t fake. He, his wife and their six kids have a month to leave, since their property is being claimed by the council.
Now, I know I’m going to be the one who clears this up. Obviously I am, because Mother and Father don’t know the first thing about moving; almost no one in the Jacoby clan does. We’ve been in the same place for over a hundred years, so no one has the slightest clue what to do when you have to up and move somewhere else entirely.
No, Cassius, you don’t just pack everything into the ute and go to find a house that isn’t occupied. That only worked the first time because Great Uncle Homer left you his house after he had that shotgun-possum incident. But I can’t just go to Cassius and Clara and say “So, guys, there are conveyancing solicitors in Melbourne, and they help you out with transferring ownership of property. Now, this here ain’t yours any more, so you have to find a place on the market and put in and offer, after which…”
I would lose them on the second syllable. It’s not that Jacoby folk don’t have the smarts to figure out conveyancers, vendors statements and buying a home- well, we might not, but that’s besides the point- but the fact that we ain’t never done it before. I only know because I read some books and I like to keep up with the local property market. For…research. And other stuff. Hey, hey, I gotta be getting my own place at some point. There are some benefits to sharing a room with four brothers, but privacy ain’t one of them. Reading time is more limited than I’d like.
Anyway, I’m helping them out. If I have to find a conveyancer with quality service in Melbourne somewhere, I will…and it’s gonna have to be top-class, because they’ll be dealing with first-timers. That is, first-timers even less initiated then regular first timers.
-Forrest Jacoby Jr. Jr.