Read Online Elizabeth and After by Matt Cohen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matt Cohen
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“I wanted to talk to you,” Ned announced. Arnie’s big frog eyes opened up behind his glasses.
“Hello, Ned,” said Arnie. “How are you doing?”
“Pretty good,” Ned said.
“You doing some building out at your uncle’s?”
Why did Arnie Kincaid need to be here? The last thing Ned wanted was Fred to be reminded that he already had a job. Not exactly a job, more like a sentence; because of the various ways he’d disgraced himself at home he’d been exiled to his uncle’s farm to play nursemaid to old Alvin.
Fred was looking at him curiously. It was now or never.
“I came in to see if you were short someone,” Ned said. “Being the summer. I wondered if you’d have room for someone to help out.”
Fred rose to his feet. His big shoulders bulged out of his vest, his broad tanned arms were folded. Since he had declared for reeve, Fred talked as though someone was writing down his pronouncements.
“I don’t know,” Fred said, sounding surprisingly undecided. Ned’s heart jumped with hope. He couldn’t have believed he had that much hope inside him. “I guess not. We’re okay for now.”
Ned flushed. “Billy Boyce told me you were looking for someone.”
Fred turned away but kept talking, his voice again amazingly uncertain. “I might have been looking for someone who could handle the work. Someone reliable.”
“If I’m late, you can fire me.”
Now Fred and Arnie were looking him over as though he were a piece of meat. That’s what a Richardson was. A big rotting piece of meat that everyone wanted to bury. They couldn’t bury Luke because of what he’d do to them if theytried, so that left him. The son. The heir. The lame-duck prince.
“Maybe I’ll think about it,” Fred said. “Why don’t you come back next week?”
Ned turned and walked out. His shirt was soaked through and when he climbed into his truck, his back stuck to the seat. His knees were sore, as though he’d crawled across the asphalt. He wheeled out of the parking lot, stepped on the gas. A few miles and he was driving down the Second Line Road past Fred’s place. His house looked like an advertisement for his own store. Bright new paint. Carefully trimmed shrubs and a circle of flowers. Everything but a pissing angel on the front lawn. What Fred deserved was to have a match put to the whole thing. The way Fred’s eyes had stayed fixed on him while he talked, until he just turned away as though he couldn’t be bothered to watch Ned embarrass himself by begging.
“Why don’t you come back next week?” Why don’t you go eff yourself?
He turned off the Second Line and headed back towards town. Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen with his mother.
“I was going to come out to see you today,” she chirped. Amy, everyone called her, short for Amaryllia. She’d just got her hair dyed her usual summer blonde—streaked as always—but her high-fashion hair only emphasized the weary way her skin had begun to fold around her eyes and mouth.
“I asked Fred Verghoers for a job at Allnew today.”
“Your father would be very upset if you worked there.”
Allnew was part of a chain owned by a Toronto consortium that MaryLou Boyce had sold to at the same time she was pretending to work out a deal with Luke. Now Allnew was West Gull’s biggest landlord and biggest employer. Luke had fought against a permit for the expansion of their premises andwhen they succeeded he announced he was going to get himself elected reeve, just to keep them in check. That was when Fred Verghoers announced his own political intentions.
“I’m not even allowed to live in my own house,” Ned said. “I don’t see why Luke should be telling me where to work.” Luke. That’s what he called his father now, like everyone else.
“You’re better off at Alvin’s.”
“I’d be better off with a real job and my own place. Do what I want when I want.”
“What did Fred say?”
“It looks good. I’ll probably start
“I wanted to talk to you,” Ned announced. Arnie’s big frog eyes opened up behind his glasses.
“Hello, Ned,” said Arnie. “How are you doing?”
“Pretty good,” Ned said.
“You doing some building out at your uncle’s?”
Why did Arnie Kincaid need to be here? The last thing Ned wanted was Fred to be reminded that he already had a job. Not exactly a job, more like a sentence; because of the various ways he’d disgraced himself at home he’d been exiled to his uncle’s farm to play nursemaid to old Alvin.
Fred was looking at him curiously. It was now or never.
“I came in to see if you were short someone,” Ned said. “Being the summer. I wondered if you’d have room for someone to help out.”
Fred rose to his feet. His big shoulders bulged out of his vest, his broad tanned arms were folded. Since he had declared for reeve, Fred talked as though someone was writing down his pronouncements.
“I don’t know,” Fred said, sounding surprisingly undecided. Ned’s heart jumped with hope. He couldn’t have believed he had that much hope inside him. “I guess not. We’re okay for now.”
Ned flushed. “Billy Boyce told me you were looking for someone.”
Fred turned away but kept talking, his voice again amazingly uncertain. “I might have been looking for someone who could handle the work. Someone reliable.”
“If I’m late, you can fire me.”
Now Fred and Arnie were looking him over as though he were a piece of meat. That’s what a Richardson was. A big rotting piece of meat that everyone wanted to bury. They couldn’t bury Luke because of what he’d do to them if theytried, so that left him. The son. The heir. The lame-duck prince.
“Maybe I’ll think about it,” Fred said. “Why don’t you come back next week?”
Ned turned and walked out. His shirt was soaked through and when he climbed into his truck, his back stuck to the seat. His knees were sore, as though he’d crawled across the asphalt. He wheeled out of the parking lot, stepped on the gas. A few miles and he was driving down the Second Line Road past Fred’s place. His house looked like an advertisement for his own store. Bright new paint. Carefully trimmed shrubs and a circle of flowers. Everything but a pissing angel on the front lawn. What Fred deserved was to have a match put to the whole thing. The way Fred’s eyes had stayed fixed on him while he talked, until he just turned away as though he couldn’t be bothered to watch Ned embarrass himself by begging.
“Why don’t you come back next week?” Why don’t you go eff yourself?
He turned off the Second Line and headed back towards town. Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen with his mother.
“I was going to come out to see you today,” she chirped. Amy, everyone called her, short for Amaryllia. She’d just got her hair dyed her usual summer blonde—streaked as always—but her high-fashion hair only emphasized the weary way her skin had begun to fold around her eyes and mouth.
“I asked Fred Verghoers for a job at Allnew today.”
“Your father would be very upset if you worked there.”
Allnew was part of a chain owned by a Toronto consortium that MaryLou Boyce had sold to at the same time she was pretending to work out a deal with Luke. Now Allnew was West Gull’s biggest landlord and biggest employer. Luke had fought against a permit for the expansion of their premises andwhen they succeeded he announced he was going to get himself elected reeve, just to keep them in check. That was when Fred Verghoers announced his own political intentions.
“I’m not even allowed to live in my own house,” Ned said. “I don’t see why Luke should be telling me where to work.” Luke. That’s what he called his father now, like everyone else.
“You’re better off at Alvin’s.”
“I’d be better off with a real job and my own place. Do what I want when I want.”
“What did Fred say?”
“It looks good. I’ll probably start
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