Far from the madding crowd

I knew last Friday that Arne had returned, but not any details. My mother and father left for Florida soon afterward. Charles Wallace wasn't speaking to me, or at least wasn't speaking directly. He stuck to reading aloud from Duncan's posts on April's blog.
"I get the point. He's having a great time, made even greater by the fact that I'm not there," I said. Duncan was being really nasty at this point in his posts. Wilco got agitated and ran to the front door right then. "What's wrong, Wilco," I asked. Charles Wallace opened the door and Arne strode in. "Oh, that's what's wrong."
"Hey, sorry, I've got to stay with you guys for a few days," Arne said.
"Why now? I'm miserable, he's a pest, only Wilco's perfectly bearable," I said.
"Hey, your life may be in the shit, but I'm really in trouble. Ivar's closed the building for construction, rewiring, health code violations, you name it, it's happened to the Three Kronen. Oh, there's no karaoke this week, so you're out $15 bucks or however much he was giving you."
"What?"
"Some moron shoved a plastic doll in the Three Kronen's septic system, which set off the water sprinkler system, which shorted out the wiring, which started a fire, which burned out the kitchen, which happens to be right under my apartment. So it's either here or the car, and it's cold outside." There wasn't much to say at that point. I went to help Arne get his Maritimes souvenirs out of the car and into the basement.
"What did you do, buy every plastic lobster in Nova Scotia?"
"I need them for an illusion I've been working on. I need a place to practise it, preferably a closed business with a big parking lot."