it upstairs, to the Chamber. That oughta do the trick, but in the meantime, Vassily wanted to let me know he might be late, or even completely MIA, today.”
“So, you’ll be running the carousel today?”
“It’s why I get the big bucks.” I finished my coffee and glanced at the clock. “There’s also some paperwork I need to fill out, so I guess I’ll wander on down and get that out of the way before the excitement starts.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Peggy said, getting up. “Got somebody coming in today to train on the smoothie machine.”
“Really? Greenie?”
“A local. Somebody Felsic knows. Ethrane, her name is. Used to fill in around the midway when Jens was managing. I found her on his lists as a will-call, so that’s okay.” She shook her head. “Have to get her to apply for a Social Security card, so I can pay her. I dread the day that stuff goes to computerized filing only; it’s gonna change a lot of things.”
“Change is what we do, hereabouts.”
“Yeah, and it’d be boring if we didn’t. I just wish we could turn the speed back a notch or two.”
I slipped my keys, wallet and phone into various pockets of my jeans.
“Hey, Kate?”
There was something . . . tentative in her husky voice and as a general rule, Peggy didn’t do tentative. I turned to face her.
“Yeah?”
“I just want to let you know that . . . I really value our friendship. It’s been swell knowing you, and I wouldn’t want anything to, you know, come between us.”
She was nervous; she was serious; and she was, I thought, going out on a limb to say what she was saying. I wish I knew what limb, exactly, and what she thought might come between us, but that was for later. For now, putting Peggy at ease was my job, I thought.
So, I gave her a grin.
“Sure; bros forever, Jersey.” I raised my fist. “Bump?”
She laughed, we did the fist-bump, and headed out for Fun Country.
Marilyn was in her office when I arrived. She was sitting at her desk, with the ledger book open—doing accounts the old-fashioned way, which would have been the way she learned it, back before we had personal computers to do that stuff for us.
“Good morning, Kate,” she said, in her usual cool, emotionless voice. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“In fact, I think you can,” I said, and told her what Vassily had told me.
“So, I’ll be opening the carousel today—that’s covered,” I finished up. “But Samuil seemed to think there was some paperwork I needed to fill out with you here. Also, I’d like to make sure the kid gets his supper.”
Marilyn had moved the ledger and was staring down at a list stuck into the corner of her blotter.
“He knows better than that,” she muttered.
I tipped my head.
“Who, Vassily?”
“No, Pete—” She pressed her lips tightly together. “Vassily’s other employer.” She got up, paced over to the file cabinet on the back wall, and pulled open a drawer.
“There is paperwork; it was good of Samuil to remind you.”
I took the form she handed me, and moved over to the ticket counting table to fill it in. Marilyn returned to her ledger and for a few minutes we worked in silence, each at our separate task.
I was just finishing up the reason for Vassily’s possible tardiness, coming down heavily on the fact that the kid was blameless, when a high, wavering whistle pierced the air.
I jumped slightly in my chair.
Marilyn sighed the sigh of the unjustly put-upon, muttered, “Stupid fax,” not quite under her breath, and got up to retrieve it from the machine sitting on top of the file cabinet.
I went back to my form, adding another sentence to make it perfectly clear that Vassily’s morning employer was ’way outta line, signed it, dated it—and realized that I hadn’t heard Marilyn move since she’d gotten up to fetch the fax.
She was standing, half turned toward the desk, staring down at the page in her hand; her face was rigid and just as white as
“So, you’ll be running the carousel today?”
“It’s why I get the big bucks.” I finished my coffee and glanced at the clock. “There’s also some paperwork I need to fill out, so I guess I’ll wander on down and get that out of the way before the excitement starts.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Peggy said, getting up. “Got somebody coming in today to train on the smoothie machine.”
“Really? Greenie?”
“A local. Somebody Felsic knows. Ethrane, her name is. Used to fill in around the midway when Jens was managing. I found her on his lists as a will-call, so that’s okay.” She shook her head. “Have to get her to apply for a Social Security card, so I can pay her. I dread the day that stuff goes to computerized filing only; it’s gonna change a lot of things.”
“Change is what we do, hereabouts.”
“Yeah, and it’d be boring if we didn’t. I just wish we could turn the speed back a notch or two.”
I slipped my keys, wallet and phone into various pockets of my jeans.
“Hey, Kate?”
There was something . . . tentative in her husky voice and as a general rule, Peggy didn’t do tentative. I turned to face her.
“Yeah?”
“I just want to let you know that . . . I really value our friendship. It’s been swell knowing you, and I wouldn’t want anything to, you know, come between us.”
She was nervous; she was serious; and she was, I thought, going out on a limb to say what she was saying. I wish I knew what limb, exactly, and what she thought might come between us, but that was for later. For now, putting Peggy at ease was my job, I thought.
So, I gave her a grin.
“Sure; bros forever, Jersey.” I raised my fist. “Bump?”
She laughed, we did the fist-bump, and headed out for Fun Country.
Marilyn was in her office when I arrived. She was sitting at her desk, with the ledger book open—doing accounts the old-fashioned way, which would have been the way she learned it, back before we had personal computers to do that stuff for us.
“Good morning, Kate,” she said, in her usual cool, emotionless voice. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“In fact, I think you can,” I said, and told her what Vassily had told me.
“So, I’ll be opening the carousel today—that’s covered,” I finished up. “But Samuil seemed to think there was some paperwork I needed to fill out with you here. Also, I’d like to make sure the kid gets his supper.”
Marilyn had moved the ledger and was staring down at a list stuck into the corner of her blotter.
“He knows better than that,” she muttered.
I tipped my head.
“Who, Vassily?”
“No, Pete—” She pressed her lips tightly together. “Vassily’s other employer.” She got up, paced over to the file cabinet on the back wall, and pulled open a drawer.
“There is paperwork; it was good of Samuil to remind you.”
I took the form she handed me, and moved over to the ticket counting table to fill it in. Marilyn returned to her ledger and for a few minutes we worked in silence, each at our separate task.
I was just finishing up the reason for Vassily’s possible tardiness, coming down heavily on the fact that the kid was blameless, when a high, wavering whistle pierced the air.
I jumped slightly in my chair.
Marilyn sighed the sigh of the unjustly put-upon, muttered, “Stupid fax,” not quite under her breath, and got up to retrieve it from the machine sitting on top of the file cabinet.
I went back to my form, adding another sentence to make it perfectly clear that Vassily’s morning employer was ’way outta line, signed it, dated it—and realized that I hadn’t heard Marilyn move since she’d gotten up to fetch the fax.
She was standing, half turned toward the desk, staring down at the page in her hand; her face was rigid and just as white as
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