Read Online Adelaide Upset by Penny Greenhorn - Free Book Online Page A

can tell
you’re very talented.”
    “ No thanks,” I said,
waving off the paper plate she was trying to load up for me. “I
stopped by my grandma’s house on the way over and she always
insists on stuffing me full.” I couldn’t stop lying; bullshit
stories just seemed to fall right out of my mouth.
    “Alright then, if I can’t tempt you,” she
said, returning the plate. “How about I take you to meet Bill
Shrader, he’ll work out someone for you to interview.”
    “Bill Shrader?”
    “The man from the festival,” she
prompted.
    “ The accountant?” Here I
was surrounded by burley lumberjacks—surely one of them must have
known Smith—and she wanted me to see the accountant?
    “ It must have something to
do with writing our checks, but I swear he knows everyone,” Sam
assured. “The muckety-mucks like to joke that he doesn’t just know
everyone, but everything, since he’s been around for so long.
Either way, he can point out an experienced logger among the bunch
for you to interview.”
    It was packed under the
pavilion, with picnic tables stuffed together, covered in cloth and
piled high with food as families gathered ‘round. Sam navigated the
crowd looking for Bill while I merely tried to control my face, the
emotions always battling to take over. Men bragged stories, women
clucked gossip, children rushed, and everyone ate, the medley of
subtle emotions seemed to crescendo inside me. Someone hit the
punch line as we passed and I smiled, almost laughing along with a
joke I’d never heard.
    “ There he is.” Sam spotted
Bill Shrader as he separated himself, moving away from the pavilion
to stand in the shade of a nearby tree as he stuffed down a
burger.
    I was just thinking how
I’d like to get rid of Sam when someone called her name. A women
rushed over, her necklace of plastic beads clacking. “I’ve been
meaning to speak with you, Sam.”
    “Don’t let me stop you,” I hurried to say.
“I’ll just go introduce myself to Bill.”
    “I’ll find you later,” Sam called. “We’ll
exchange cards!”
    For the second time I
rushed away from Sam, letting her words trail off behind me. I was
eager to meet Bill, just one link closer to learning the
truth.
    He was sweating again. I
could see patches of wet fabric growing under his armpits as I drew
near, his meager thatch of hair was slicked with it, sticking to
his scalp. “Hello, Bill.”
    He chewed. He swallowed. “Do I know
you?”
    “ Unfortunately my name is
Laide,” I said, again wishing I’d put more thought into going
incognito. “Sam Phelps sent me to speak with you about an interview
I want to do for the paper.”
    He sort of hunched over
his food, watching me intently from under a ledge of heavy eyebrow.
“Unless it’s a story on accounting I won’t be much help.” He went
back to chewing.
    “ Geared more for locals
than tourists, it’ll be a verbal vignette, a glimpse into—” He was
bored, impatient for me to go away. I didn’t blame him. “You know
what,” I said, letting his impatience bleed into me. “I’m really
only interested in David Smith. Yes, you know him,” I continued,
noticing Bill had stopped eating, suddenly alert. “He worked at
SL&S for a while, but then he suddenly left, or maybe
disappeared.”
    “ That was more than ten
years ago,” Bill acknowledged.
    Finally, some answers.
Smith had scared me into treading lightly, as if his death could be
a dangerous topic, but my, or rather Bill’s, impatience had paid
off.
    “If I recall, he had family. Did you talk to
them yet?”
    “ No,” I responded, feeling
his curiosity. “I believe they’re under the impression that he ran
off and left them, so I’m hesitant to stir up troubling memories. I
was hoping he’d have a friend that still worked here, someone who
might remember those days before he disappeared.”
    Each time I said disappeared it
seemed to stir his emotions, dredging up concern; he himself was
troubled by the memories.