Page 65 of The Woodcarver's Model
“Don’t go there.”
When Marco finessed the rig into position, Ricky leapt in behind the truck and started unhitching the drill frame to raise it into the upright drilling position as he’d seen Marco do.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off that,” Marco yelled, grabbing Ricky by the shoulders and throwing him through the air.
“What the fuck, man? I was just giving you a hand.”
“Best not to touch another man’s tools.” Frank laughed.
“Shit. That guy’s crazy,” Ricky shouted, pumped up on adrenaline.
“You pull that pin, kid, and the whole drill frame will flip up and take your goddamn head off.”
“Yeah…well…” Ricky walked away.
Philippe came up to Frank. “Kid gonna be okay?”
“The one thing they hate more than being told what to do is being told they did something wrong. Nothing worse for a twenty-year-old, not that you’d remember,” Frank added, laughing.
Philippe laughed. “Crap—I can’t even rememberbeingtwenty.”
“Just watch him. He’ll be showing off just to prove he’s a real man,” Frank cautioned.
Marco loaded the six-inch-wide drill auger into the drive and raised the drill frame carefully into position. Every move Marco made was measured.
Just then, a white Suburban drove around the corner and skidded to a halt.
* * * *
At 11:35 a.m., Estelle slowly mounted the stairs of the Broughton Street offices of Vancouver Island Publishing. Her office might have been in an old building, but at least it had an elevator.Strike two, Cedric.
As she waited outside the office to catch her breath, she could hear the phone ring. Although she couldn’t quite make out the words spoken, she could sense the tone, and it was one of frustration. Estelle entered as the telephone receiver was slammed down. No sooner than the receptionist looked up to see who had entered, the phone rang again. The receptionist grabbed at the receiver like it was a snake ready to strike.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she yelled and slammed the receiver back on the cradle before the caller had a chance to utter a syllable.
“It’s been like that all morning. Is there some new disease going around that makes people go crazy? Should I be thinking about getting a shot?”
The phone rang again and Brenda picked up and slammed the receiver right back down. “I’ve been having people who don’t even speak English yelling at me. That’s not right, is it?”
“I have no idea. I’m here to see Cedric.”
“Do you have an—” Before she could finish the sentence the phone rang again. “Oh, just go in,” she said, waving the receiver towards the inner office door. “What!” she yelled into the phone. “Sorry, Mom, I didn’t know it was you… No, I don’t always answer the phone like that.”
With that, Estelle entered Cedric’s office. She noticed his phone lay on the floor some ten feet from the end of its cord.
“I’m too busy right now, so would you please leave,” he said without looking up.
“But Cedric darling, it’s been a very long flight,” she said, in a way that would have made a 1930s screen vamp proud.
“Estelle! What are you doing here, my love?”
“The mountain comes to Mohamed.” Estelle walked to his desk and hoisted her short frame onto the edge of his desk.
“My dear, I’m afraid you’ve come at an inopportune time. As you probably sensed, things are a little…chaotic at the moment.”
“Yes, I couldn’t help but see that. Who knew that the travel publishing business could be so…active?”
“Oh, my dear, you have no idea. No idea at all.” He finally rose from his chair and leaned in for a kiss but Estelle swivelled off the desk and back onto her feet.
