Slate by Nathan Aldyne Page A

tools. I’ll have hourly and overnight rates, a twenty-four-hour emergency service—”
    â€œFor wrenches?”
    â€œOh, sure, but other tools too, of course. When you’ve got to have a wrench, you’ve got to have one.”
    Valentine smiled and took a long swallow of his beer.
    â€œAnd once I get going, I’ll give carpentry courses and so on.” Linc paused and gazed up at the ceiling. “I think it’d be great to stand behind a counter all day in your own place, talking to people who come in, watching people pass along the sidewalk. Join the Gay Businessman’s Association, go to all the meetings. You think it sounds too much like a dream?”
    â€œI think,” said Valentine, “that before you know it, there’s going to be a chain of Rent-a-Wrenches. First a shop on Christopher Street, and then Castro Street, Santa Monica Boulevard, everywhere. And you’ll keep going back and forth: New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Washington, Chicago, and you’ll write every penny of it off on your taxes.”
    â€œAre you making fun of me?”
    â€œNo. I’m not. I think it’s a good idea.”
    â€œI’ve always wanted to be my own boss. Even when I was in school in New Orleans, I knew that that kind of education wasn’t right for me. I mean, I read Blake and Conrad, but that doesn’t help me, not when I’m painting a room or rebuilding a kitchen. You know what I mean? ”
    â€œHow long were you at Tulane?” Valentine asked. “Did you finish there?”
    â€œTulane?” Linc asked, slightly puzzled.
    â€œYou said you went to school in New Orleans. I assumed you meant Tulane.”
    â€œOh. No. I couldn’t afford that. I went to this two-year junior college. I even had trouble getting in there because of the state residency requirement.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you go to a two-year school in Maine? Why travel all the way to New Orleans?”
    Linc seemed uncomfortable suddenly and shifted on the sofa. Finally he said, “I went down there with a lover. It was pretty good for a while. I got a job days and went to school at night. Then he left me.” Linc sighed slightly. “He fell in love with a guy I went to school with and used to study with at our apartment.”
    â€œThat’s too bad.”
    Linc shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I was too young to have a lover, anyway. He sends me a Christmas card every year, but that’s the only time I ever think of him now.” He looked up at Valentine and smiled. “All I’m thinking about now is helping you get Slate opened and figuring out how to get Rent-a-Wrench off the ground.”
    â€œAnd speaking of tools,” said Valentine, “Ashes was supposed to be here at three. He’s probably downstairs waiting. We’re going over to the restaurant supply store and look at some equipment for the kitchen. Want to come? We can go by Benton Lock on the way. I really do think I ought to get the locks changed.”
    Later in the afternoon, Valentine returned to his apartment alone. He found Clarisse running the vacuum cleaner in his bedroom. She snapped it off when he appeared in the doorway.
    â€œI’ve been having domestic hot flashes all afternoon,” she said almost apologetically. “So I thought I might as well do your carpets while I had this thing out.” She yanked the plug out of the wall socket and wrapped the cord around the hooks on the handle of the machine.
    Valentine looked about. “You made my bed too?”
    â€œThe sight of an unmade bed drives me to distraction.”
    Valentine sat on the edge of it in order to remove his boots. Clarisse seemed to linger hesitantly.
    â€œYes?” said Valentine.
    â€œI’ve been going over a few things in my mind…”
    â€œI’d kill for a cigarette,” said Valentine.
    â€œSo would I,” said Clarisse.
    â€œWhat