Bob of Small End

by David Hockey

  Chapter 14 Craig

  Ken phoned at eight Saturday morning. “Hello Bob. Did you enjoy your holiday?”

  “I certainly did although my aunt isn’t very well. She’s got emphysema and uses oxygen. But we went for a couple of drives and had lots to talk about. How did things go at the workshop? I’d like to see what you’ve done.”

  “I can be there at nine. How about then?”

  “I’ll be there.” He sat down to eat his porridge and make his shopping lists. His grocery list started with ‘coffee,’ the brand he preferred and couldn’t get in the Small End grocery shop and ended with fish. Then he made a separate list for workshop items adding ‘six safety glasses’ and ‘four overalls.’

  Before leaving he crossed the parking lot to see what they had done at the new Community Centre’s site. Where it was to be erected a large rectangular section had been excavated and covered with crushed stone. Capped sewer and water pipes projected in several places. He shook his head thinking that he wasn’t going to like living that close to the Centre there’d be so much noise though it might be like the trains, he only noticed the sound from them when wondering if they were on time.

  He drove the van to the workshop and parked at the side. The exterior walls had been painted and their new colour brightened the place making it look attractive and welcoming. Ken was already in the shop pushing a large rack towards the paint booth.

  “Hello Bob. How do you like this, a moveable rack? I’ve made four of them. They’re to move toys from the end of the line to the paint booth. I had to buy sixteen wheels for them. They were expensive because I had to buy new ones. You’ll see them on Leon’s bill.”

  “The racks should be very useful. Did you buy anything else?”

  “A few ducts. We’ll need them for the extractor and exhaust fans. Screw hooks for the racks and a few other things. Nothing cost much.”

  Several shelves were mounted on the long wall of the hall and cardboard boxes sat on two of them. Bob pointed to them and asked, “those are for parts?

  “Yes. They’ll do for now but I want something stronger. If you see any plastic boxes when you’re shopping buy one or two. Once we get the right size we’ll buy a couple of hundred. Hey, did you notice how far apart the shelves on the trolley are? That’s so I can put hooks underneath. The holders will hang there after the parts have been dipped and they’ll dry there. That way they’ll be ready to move to the next paint booth. Oh, I’ve made all the other paint trays. Come. I’ll show what we’ve done.”

  They went to the sanding booth where the sanding mop was bolted to the bench. “The extractor fan hasn’t come yet. It should be here early next week. Jack helped me make the trolleys and the benches. I told him that I didn’t think we would need him again so he gave me his bills. There’s the labour costs, that’s him and John, and it’s £1,075. The materials he bought during the construction cost another £732.88.”

  “We won’t have enough money to pay all our bills Ken. We’re going to need well over £4,000.”

  “I guessed that. Why don’t we add another £2,500. That should keep us going until we get money from the retailers. Can you manage that?”

  “Fifty one percent, yes. I can do that today, I’ll be in Big End after this to do my shopping.”

  “I’ll give you my cheque then.” Ken pulled out his cheque book and wrote one, payable to Small End Wooden Toys. “Here, put that in when you deposit yours.”

  “Do you want anything for the shop? I’ve started a list, it’s just got safety glasses and overalls. Two medium and two large size. They should fit most people. I can get the overalls and glasses from the lumber yard.”

  “I can’t think of anything right now. I’ll make a list next week if I think of anything.”

  They walked around the place one more time, visualising how things would work if there were two or more people working in the shop. As they were leaving Bob said, “I’ll make a sign to hang over the entrance door. ‘Small End Wooden Toys.’ It’ll be a wooden sign, stained brown, so it’ll show against the wall.”

  “Just what we need. Good!”

  Bob drove the van to the garage to be filled and gave Tim his credit card. He took it, slid it through his machine and Bob signed the slip. It couldn’t have been easier. But he decided not to get a card for himself; thinking it’d be safer if he only used cash.

  At his bank in Big End he transferred £2,000 from his savings to his checking account and bought a bank draft for £1,275, putting that and Ken’s cheque in their business account at the National Westminster. Now he felt less worried. There was enough to pay all their bills and if Jenny and Leo sold the toys they had they’d be all right for a while. If he found more retailers they’d begin to grow. ‘Let’s hope I do that at the conference.’

  After lunch he went for his usual walk. It had begun to rain but he didn’t mind, it was what his garden needed and he needed the walk to think how he would answer questions from future retailers about percentages, quantities and deliveries. He’d have to take a notebook to record special requirements and details about contacting or delivering to them. It would be important to be consistent and precise about what he said. He also had a quiet little chat to Betty about Sally as he walked beside the river.

  He joined his friends in the Crown at six and told them about his visit to his aunt, a little about her illness and that she had given him her Vauxhall. Joe told him about the sub-division above the railway tracks.

  “There’s about two hundred acres under development. The water and sewer pipes are already at their main entrance.”

  “Oh and what about the Centre Jane, who’s going to build it?” Bob asked.

  “We haven’t received any bids yet. We’ll probably get them next week.”

  “How’s the Spring Show going?” asked Rose.

  “The rehearsal was a disaster. One of the school groups had to cancel because so many of the children had colds. We’re looking for another skit. Any of you have a suggestion?”

  “Joe can whistle,” suggested Jack.

  “Only if you sing,” he replied.

  “The children might be better by the time the show opens but they won’t have had much practice. Worse, the lead actor in the comedy fell and broke a leg and his replacement has not learned the lines. I guess it’ll all probably work out in the end. It usually does.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. You know, the shows are about the only entertainment I get apart from television and holidays,” said Bob.

  Bob left with the others and as he was saying goodbye Jack told him that he had the stationary and workshop photos and would bring them to him tomorrow.

  “Oh great. What time?”

  “’Ow about nine?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. I’d also like some titles beneath each photo. I’ve taken another look at what I’ve done and it’s not good enough. Can you do that?”

  “Aye. ‘Ow big?”

  “How about me coming to your place and see what you’ve got.”

  “Okay.”

  As soon as his washing was in the machine and he had finished his dusting on Sunday morning he walked to Jack’s place. It was early, just after eight thirty, for he wanted to hoe the garden before the rain began.

  “’Ow do Bob. Come in,” and Jack led Bob to the back room where his computer was kept. He turned it on and while they were waiting for it to open up he gave Bob the photo he’d taken of the new shop. It showed the benches, some machinery, and the painting and sanding booths.

  “A nice one Jack. It shows how much bigger we are now.”

  “Aye.”

  “Did Ken choose it?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then we’ll use it. Now about the titles. All I want is ‘The first workshop’ and ‘The new workshop.’ I want the wording under each picture so it doesn’t have to be too big.”

  Jack loaded his word processing program then showed him the range of fonts and sizes he had. After selecting the most appr
opriate combination Jack printed each on thick paper and gave them to Bob.

  “Nothin’ for that Bob. Here’s t’bill for t’other stuff.”

  Bob glanced at the figure, £32.50. “I think we can afford that.”

  Rose walked into the room and suggested they have coffee in the small garden behind the shop. Bob wanted to return to his garden but accepted her offer because he wanted to know more about the Gift and Toy conference. Over coffee she answered his questions, telling him to dress smartly, to be prepared to discuss percentages and delivery details. He walked back with his arms full of paper and his mind wondering how he could attract retailers to his table, fearing that everybody would spend their time at the bigger displays where there would be much more to look at. He decided to buy some sweets and put them in a bowl on the table, perhaps that would help.

  It looked like the rain would be arrive any moment so he put everything on the kitchen table and started hoeing. He was lucky for it didn’t begin until he’d finished most of the garden. He spent the afternoon cutting wooden letters for the new shop sign with his jigsaw. He sanded each one then glued them onto an old curved plank. They read ‘Small End Wooden Toys.’

  After supper he pasted the photographs and titles onto the cardboards making posters of them. The printed titles covered his hand-written script and he was pleased with the results. ‘One look at these will tell anyone how we started and what we’ve become. It shows how well we’re doing and that might make them more willing to work with us.’

  He was in no hurry to get up Monday morning not knowing what to do that day. It was still raining so he couldn’t work in the garden. He couldn’t think of anything else he should do to prepare for the conference. He could go to the shop and help Ken but he didn’t want to be there when the new boy arrived. Ken should be the one he reported to, not him. Then he remembered the sign he’d made for the workshop door. He’d stain the letters. That would make them stand out.

  He was eating his breakfast, wishing he had bought more kippers because the ones he had yesterday were wonderful, when a letter from Maria arrived. She had booked him on the August tour and included a brochure. To confirm his booking he should send her £500 and the agency would convert it into escudos. He would have to pay the balance one month before the tour began. He looked at the tour date. It began Sunday August 11th and ended the following Sunday. He wrote the dates on his kitchen calendar and put a note on Saturday 3rd July to remind him to send the rest of the money. Then he added ‘buy a £500 bank draft’ to his to-do list.

  In her letter Maria congratulated him on getting his driving licence. “Now you can drive me when we meet in August!” Bob thought of telling her that he would be driving a Vauxhall by then but decided to keep that for a surprise. She was interested in his business venture and said she hoped she could meet Ken when she did her September tour. The date of that tour was September 15-22nd and he added those dates to his calendar, not that he was planning to take a church-visiting tour but just to record when she was in England. ‘So if Maria hopes to meet Ken she must be thinking she’ll extend her stay. That’d be nice.’

  He thought more about what Maria wrote as he dried the dishes and decided to get a draft from his bank today. ‘I’ll go to the bank this afternoon and see if Jenny wants any more sets.’ Rose had told him he should keep in touch with his retailers so that they got to know him and were more likely to suggest his toys to people who were not sure what to buy. He didn’t need to visit Leo because he’s see him at the conference.

  In his letter he told Maria that he would love to drive her around the Lake District although she would have to tell him where she’d like to go because he hadn’t been there before. “Perhaps we can look for new places that the agency might add to future tours.” He wondered if the company would pay for her to spend a few extra days in England. Probably not. He looked again at how she had ended her letter. She had written the same words he had used, “with love, Maria.” So he ended his letter in the same manner.

  Bob stained the wooden letters and left them on the bench to dry. He donned his mackintosh, collected an umbrella and walked to the workshop, entering by the front door.

  Ken was running wood through the saw jig. He stopped when he saw Bob and greeted him. “Hello Bob. This is Craig Elton. He’s on trial for a week. Craig, this is Mr. Barns. He and I own the company.”

  “Hello Mr. Barns. I hope my work will satisfy you.”

  “It’s not me Craig, it’s Mr. Smith you have to satisfy. He’s in charge of the work shop.” He looked at what Craig was doing. “Do you know what these are for?”

  “Mr. Smith told me that the needles will hold the wooden pieces that are to be painted. This is what they do,” and he pushed the holder he was holding into a piece of scrap wood and lifted it. Bob noticed that he was wearing a glove, probably one Ken had given him.

  “That’s right. How many holders are you going to make Ken?”

  “Enough to hold a hundred pieces. I was telling Craig how we make the toys. Do you have any more questions Craig?”

  “Well I’ve several but I’ll wait and watch what you do. That might answer them. I learn best by seeing what’s done rather than being told about it.”

  “Yes I do too,” Ken said.

  “Me also, I think,” echoed Bob.

  “Let’s have a break now, it’s nearly ten. Time for tea. I’ve bought a kettle and the other stuff. But we don’t have anything but these two stools to sit on. The chairs won’t be here for another week.”

  “You can have a couple of our garden chairs Ken. I’ll bring them later. Where’s the kettle, I’ll make the tea.”

  During the tea break Ken told Craig that he’d like the staff to call them Ken and Bob. “I know it’s unusual to use first names in England but it’s done in many factories in America. I’m told this helps to build teams and team spirit fosters production and quality. I wanted to try that in Southampton but couldn’t get the rest of the management group to agree. What do you think Bob. Do you mind?”

  “No not at all.”

  “Then Craig, please call me Ken and Mr. Barns, Bob.”

  “I’ll try, er, Ken. It’ll be a bit difficult but I’ll try.”

  ‘It’ll get easier with practice.”

  After the break Bob helped Ken as he ran the long blocks through the saw jig to make the small houses. They stopped for lunch and Ken told Craig that the lunch break was only half-an-hour. “Do you mind having a short one?” Craig said he didn’t mind at all but he hadn’t brought any lunch. “Here, have this,” said Ken, and gave him a sandwich and an apple.

  “Thanks Ken. Tomorrow I’ll bring my own. I didn’t think about lunch when I left home.”

  Bob said he didn’t have his lunch either. “I’m driving to Big End this afternoon so I’ll eat at home. I’m going to my bank and I’ll also see Jenny to see if she needs more. I’ll take five of each set Ken. Do you want anything for the shop?”

  “I haven’t thought of anything. Oh, I don’t think the plastic bags you use to carry the sets in looks very professional. Why don’t you look for something better?”

  “Good idea, I’ll do that. I’ll collect the sets for Jenny after lunch. How are we going to keep track of the ones you make and the ones I’ve taken?”

  “I’ll write what we make on a piece of paper. You do the same for the ones you take. I’ll pin my sheet to the wall in the office. No, we should have a notice board and some drawing pins. Can you buy them and a stapler, pencils, a pencil sharpener, some ball-point pens and two or three pads of paper. Things for the office and anything else you think of or see when you are in the stationers.”

  “Okay. I’ll add them to my list. I’m off now. See you this afternoon. ‘Bye”

  As Bob opened the waiting room door he saw Ken opening another package of biscuits. ‘I’d better buy more of those and some tea and sugar too,’ he told himself.

  After lunch Bob took three plastic bags from the cupboard under th
e sink and two garden chairs from the lean-too, put them in the back of the van and drove down the hill to the shop. He left the chairs in the waiting room and then wished he had brought one of his side tables for the room. He’d do that tomorrow. He collected five of each toy set, put them in the bags then wrote what he’d taken on a piece of paper and pinned it to the wall.

  “Have you thought of anything else Ken?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, ‘Bye then.”

  He parked the van in the bank’s parking lot, bought the draft to send to Maria then crossed the road to Jenny’s shop. She wasn’t there but Susan told him that they didn’t need any more sets at the moment. She smiled at him and pointed to his mackintosh.

  “Don’t you like my coat?” he asked.

  “Yes. But it’s not the latest fashion. Oh sorry. I hope you don’t mind me telling you that.”

  “No I don’t. I’m told I should look like a ‘professional.’ You should help me chose my clothes!”

  “I can’t do that! You could go to Hankins, they’ll help. My Dad goes there.”

  “What does he do Susan?”

  “He’s an insurance agent.”

  “Well he probably wears the kind of clothes I should wear. I’ll see what they suggest.”

  Mr. Hankins helped him chose a suit, a smart, dark blue one, a tie and two shirts. He was told they could adjust the trouser length immediately and Bob said he’d be back in half an hour or so. Luckily he had enough money with him to pay for the clothes. He walked back to the bank and withdrew another £200 before retrieving the van.

  His next stop was the shopping centre where he bought the tack board and office items from the stationer’s shop, together with a receipt book he’d use to record the number of sets given to retailers. They also stocked three different sizes of plastic boxes so he bought one of each. Ken could chose the one he wanted. He was told that the supermarket sold large plastic carry-all boxes so he went there and bought two as well as coffee, bags of sugar, two boxes of tea bags, ten packets of biscuits and, as a treat for himself, four packs of kippers and his special coffee. He asked for two bills, one for the shop items and one for himself.

  The rain had stopped when he returned to the clothes shop so he left his mac in the van. He didn’t want Mr. Hankins to sell him one of those, at least not yet. His suit was ready for him, waiting in a large plastic bag.

  Ken was moving a drum of acrylic to the paint booth when Bob walked in the side door carrying one of his carry-all’s filled with items from the stationers. “Don’t fasten the notice board to the wall Bob,” Ken called. “I’ll put it up after the desks arrive.” Bob nodded, left everything in the office and went back to the shop to see what was happening.

  Craig was pushing wood through the saw jig making village houses. Bob watched him for a while and showed him a slightly better way to hold the wood. Then he went to the paint booth and watched Ken. Five engine boilers were hanging from the needles of a holder and Ken dipped them into a tray full of paint as he watched. Lifting it carefully Ken brushed the lower side to remove the excess paint then hooked the hanger onto two of the eye rings that were screwed into the bottom of the shelves on the movable rack.

  “It’ll get faster as I learn the best way to do it,” he said.

  “It’s much faster than brushing it on right now. I hope the paint looks okay after it has dried.’

  “If this paint is the same as the paint we tried earlier they’ll be fine. I’ll do all the first coats today and do the second tomorrow. Then I’ll try the rubber stamps to see if they work. I made them yesterday. Craig can glue them together then fasten the wheels and hooks, wrap and box them. Not much to teach him there.”

  “I’ll drop in tomorrow afternoon and see how it’s going. I’ll be working on the display table in the morning. Oh, I’ve bought three plastic boxes. Choose the one you like and I’ll find out where we can buy them in bulk.”

  Ken nodded his head. “Good.” He was much more interested in the way his dipping was working than in what Bob was saying. So Bob bid goodbye and drove home. He checked his wooden sign; the stain had dried so he gave it a coat of varnish before making his supper.

  Bob woke with a start early Tuesday morning very worried about his display table. Ideas for it were running through his mind but something was bothering him. Was the table going to collapse? No, it couldn’t be that, it was strongly made. Was it too small? Maybe that was what was wrong. Then he suddenly realised that it had no sign saying that the toys were made by Small End Wooden Toys. That was the problem. He’d phone Jack and ask him to print one.

  Since he couldn’t phone him this early he decided to treat himself and have a pair of kippers for breakfast. After he had washed the dishes he fetched the toy sets from the van, set up the booth table in the lounge and was about to put some of the toys on the table when the scratches and smears of paint on the top of the plywood board caught his eye. Earlier they hadn’t looked too bad but today they did. He’d have to find something to cover them and thought about using one of Betty’s table covers but all of them were circular. It needed a plain white cloth, perhaps a bed sheet would do. He screwed the slanted poster holders into the back of the table, fetched a sheet and positioned it then added some toys. That worked. He placed the photograph cards on the holders and stood back. Yes, they told the story and looked nice. But where would he put the company name? There wasn’t enough room to put it on the table. He could hang it on a line strung between the two posters above the table but that would look pretty shoddy. Then he thought of hanging it in front of the table. It’d probably look fine there, with the sheet as a background.

  Since it was nearly eight he decided to call Jack. Rose answered the phone.

  “No. Jack’s already left. A real-estate agent phoned last night and said there’s an old cottage that’s just come on the market and Jack’s gone to look at it. He’ll probably be there most of the morning. I’ll tell him you called when he returns Bob.” Bob thanked her then hung up. That wasn’t too good. What if he didn’t come back then or couldn’t make the sign today?

  He sat in his easy chair and thought. Could he make the sign? It was very important to have the company’s name displayed. Ken had told him that weeks ago. He was stupid to have forgotten. How could he make one that would look professional?

  Then he remembered how he used to make letters for Sam when he was learning the alphabet. He had cut them from wood and painted them. Sam and Regina would put them in alphabetical order or make words with them. He could do that, that is, if he could find the stencils. They were probably with his old woodwork magazines. One year the magazine provided stencils of letters and numbers each month in different fonts and sizes. He’d use one of those.

  The magazines were stored in Regina’s room. He found the stencils but soon realised that the letters would be too small. He’d have to enlarge them. He found his pantograph and drawing board and took them and the stencils to the kitchen. He’d choose a font, scale it up, draw the letters on white paper and transfer the outline to some thin plywood using carbon copying paper.

  It was a joy to use his jigsaw again. He remembered the days when he cut the alphabet and gave it to Sam for Christmas. Regina used the letters more than Sam did, forming words, then sentences like, ‘I love you Mom and Dad’. They were happy times.

  He sanded the letters, took them to the lounge and placed them in order on the white sheet realising as he did so that they’d show up better if they were stained. A dark walnut colour would be best. He took the letters back to his shop, opened the can and stirred the small amount that was left in the tin then brushed the top of each letter with stain, wiping it afterwards with a cloth to even the coat. ‘Now, how am I going to fasten them to the sheet? Ah, I’ll glue them to a cord, that should do.’

  When Jack phoned he told him why he had called that morning. “But I’ve solved the problem, I’ve cut the letters out of plywood.’

  “Okay.”


  “Rose said you were looking at a cottage. Did you buy it?”

  “Nay. He wont’s too much.”

  “Why not make him a low offer and see what happens Jack?”

  “Aye, I might.”

  The stain had dried after he had eaten his lunch so he arranged the letters and glued a string on the back. Being made out of wood they’d add just the right touch to his display table. No one could miss seeing their name now. Then he searched the house for a box where the retailers could leave their cards eventually choosing a wooden fruit bowl. He put his business cards in a box that he’d made years ago to hold Betty’s earrings then arranged them all on the table. It all looked pretty good to him.

  He walked down to the shop carrying one of Sam’s bedside tables and left it in the waiting room. It would do for now but it should be replaced by a bigger, more-suitable one. When he went into the shop it was empty but there was a noise coming from the back. He opened the rear door and saw Ken and Craig screwing two brackets into the wall.

  “Hi Bob. The exhaust fan came this morning and we’re just tightening the bolts. We’ve tried the fan earlier and it does a great job. I pushed wood into the sander and there’s next to no dust in the booth when the fan’s turned on. This duct,” and he tapped it, “goes directly to the sanding booth. The fan fits on this bracket and the dust goes into a bag under the machine. The bag’s reusable but I don’t know where we’ll dump the dust. I’ll ask Joe where to put it when I see him. How’s the table? All set up?”

  “It’s fine now. I made a sign saying ‘Small End Wooden Toys’ to hang on the front this morning.”

  “Take a photo of the whole thing at the conference. It might be useful someday.”

  “All right. Did the other fans arrive?”

  “Yes. We’ll install the one for the saw jigs tomorrow but we’ll need more ducts. I didn’t know where they had to go and I didn’t order enough. I’ll need some flexible duct too. The paint booth fan can be installed later. I had no trouble when painting, there didn’t seem to be any fumes, so we might not need one in there.”

  Once the fan and it’s bag had been properly installed they showed Bob how well it worked then they decided to stop for the day. Craig left first, collecting his bike from the side of the shop and riding off.

  “He’s asked if we can provide a place to chain his bike. He doesn’t think it’ll be stolen but he doesn’t want to worry about it. I’ll ask Joe if he has something we can bolt onto the shop wall.”

  “Will you hire him?”

  “Yes I will. He learns quickly and is good with his hands. I’ll tell him he can have the job if he guarantees he’ll stay with us for at least one year. I don’t want to take him on then find that he wants to take a different job in a month or so. And Bob, I want another helper. We’ll need one if the conference brings in lots of customers. If he’s as good as Craig we’ll be in clover.”

  “All right. Do you want me to put the same sign in Rose’s shop?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Okay. The conference is very important, isn’t it? It worries me. If I don’t find lots of retailers all this is for nothing.”

  “Now don’t think like that. You have to have a positive outlook when you meet people otherwise you’ll turn them away. Remember, ‘Don’t worry, We’ll be alright,’ that’s our motto. Keep it in mind.”

  “Yes. You’re right. Okay. Tomorrow’ll be fine.’

  “Good. Well I’m going home now. Enjoy the next few days and let me know what happens as soon as you can.”

  “Okay. Cheers Ken.”

  Ken locked the door, got in his car and waved as he drove away. Bob walked home, thinking more positively about the conference. ‘Well it’ll be a new experience, that’s for sure,’ he told himself, ‘I might as well enjoy it.’