Jared’s bedrooms—both the one at his mom’s house and the one at his grandmother Nana Sophia’s house—symbolize his relationships with his mom and grandmother. At the beginning of the book, Jared lives in the basement, having suggested that he move there so that his mom could rent out his room to help cover the bills. This reflects how Jared has to take on greater responsibility in his relationship with his mom, as he has to help shoulder the burden of making sure that they can pay the bills. The basement is rather decrepit, and it becomes even more so when Jared’s mom finds out that that he’s been helping his dad, whom she hates. When she discovers this, she punches the wall, breaks Jared’s furniture, and slashes his mattress. This illustrates that his mom can, at any point, become violent with him. If Jared’s room reflects his well-being at home, the ease with which his mom destroys it suggests that she’s poised to endanger that well-being at any moment. Eventually, though, Jared and his mother are able to reconcile somewhat, and he moves up from his basement to a room on the top floor, next to his mother’s bedroom. This change in living situation reflects a shift in their relationship, as she starts to treat him better and care for him more openly.
Nana Sophia, meanwhile, eagerly prepares a room for Jared at her house for him to visit over the summer. She shows him pictures of the nice room that she has set up—a sunlit room that opens onto a deck overlooking a rocky beach. This room symbolizes the warmth and safety of their relationship, in contrast with Jared and his mother's rocky relationship over the course of the novel.
Jared’s Rooms/The Basement Quotes in Son of a Trickster
“Are you still helping him?”
“No.”
“Then why’d you pawn the TV?”
“You took off, but we still had bills.”
She took another deep, slow breath. “I was pissed. You have no idea what it took not to strangle you.”
“Yeah,” Jared said. “That’s love.”
She side-eyed him. “That’s the only thing that kept you from being mulch.”
The ape man leaned on his knuckles, sniffing the air. His head swung back and forth. He bent down and sniffed the floor. Jared lifted his feet onto the couch. There goes the neighbour’s house. Off to Kansas.
[…]
Other hands scrabbled through the floor, their nails clicking on the linoleum.
I’m here, Jared thought. Alone in the living room. I’m watching TV. Nothing else is real. I know the difference between real and not, and this isn’t real.