Tom arrived at his mother’s new house at 6:45, but found that he had to park nearly two blocks away. Dressed in a bright orange t-shirt and blue jeans, Tom donned his new hardhat. He couldn’t get into the sight without one and he found that somehow, the hardhat made him feel more masculine. Carrying the five white bakery boxes proved to be a challenge, but somehow Tom made it back to the construction site without dropping them. He set them down and they were quickly opened and devoured. Tom looked around for Sam, but he could see no sign of him. Tom’s heart sank as he checked his watch. He stepped up onto a stack of plywood and scanned the men that were attacking the white bakery boxes. Sam was not among them.
Tom shook his head as he stepped back down onto the trampled lawn. He walked up to the house and he heard a heated argument taking place inside. Tom thought he heard Sam’s voice and he stepped inside to investigate.
“I’m tellin’ you that there is no way that header can support that much weight,” growled Sam, standing toe-to-toe with a man in a red foreman’s hardhat. Tom recognized the big man, a hardboiled brute with heavily tattooed arms and a stringy white beard.
The other man held a blueprint in one hand and he jabbed his finger at it. “And I’m telling you that this is how the architect designed it. Sam, I like you, but you’ve got to let it go. Don’t make me walk you off the job.”
“This is my cousin’s house,” said Sam, not giving an inch. “And I’m not movin’ until we get an inspector in here. Just look at that expanse, we need to double that header up.”
Several men had gathered in the large room and Tom waded through them. “Excuse me,” said Tom, “what seems to be the problem?”
“Fat Tommy,” exclaimed Sam, his eyes lighting up at the sight of him. “Look at this, will ya? Do you think that this header is safe?”
Tom didn’t know a header from a hole in the ground and he shrugged his shoulders. The foreman recognized Tom and he flung the blueprints in front of him. “You see,” he said, pointing at a cluster of lines and angles, “that’s the way it was designed.”
“And I’m tellin’ ya that it needs to be doubled up,” said Sam, crossing his arms.
Tom stared at the blueprints and rubbed his chin. He had no idea what he was looking at and he prayed someone would rescue him. Just then, another man waded into the fray. “What’s going on, here?” he asked. Tom breathed a sigh of relief. The man was a building inspector for the City of Minneapolis.
Sam pointed up at a long beam that sat above them. “That’s the problem,” he said. “If we weren’t going up another story, that single header would be fine. I know it ain’t drawn up that way in the plans, but I think that header needs to be doubled up.”
The inspector was tall and thin, a gaunt looking man who might have been an undertaker in another life. He looked up at the header in question and he pulled a tape measure from his jacket pocket. He held the end out to Sam. “Hold this on that edge,” he grunted.
Sam took the edge and placed it at where the header met the top of the interior wall. The building inspector pulled the tape down to the other end and he quickly shook his head. “That man is right,” he said to the foreman. “And it’s a damn good thing he caught that when he did. You need to double this up.”
Tom thought the foreman was going to blow a fuse, but he surprised Tom by walking over to Sam and clapping him on the back. “Good eye, Sam,” he said. “Most guys don’t have the seeds to stand up to me, but you do. I like that. You just saved us a lot of time and money. I’ll be talking to the boss about this.”
Sam smiled and shook the beefy man’s hand. “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass.”
The foreman smiled, revealing perhaps eight teeth. He then checked his watch. “It’s seven O’clock,” he bellowed. “The show is over. Quit loafing around and get to work. Jackson, you and Sam get going on doubling up that header!”
Tom smiled as Sam gave him a quick wink. He was proud of his relative and he couldn’t wait to share this story with Shari. He followed the men out of the house and he returned to get himself a doughnut. Sadly, the boxes were all empty.
Soon, the sounds of construction filled the air. Tom stood back and watched in amazement at what appeared to be total chaos. Men in hardhats poured over the house like ants on an anthill. Every now and again, Chona would rush up to him and ask for approval on a last minute change of plans. She was all business and never smiled, but Tom respected her for taking on this challenge.
On the opposite side of the street, people began lining up behind the yellow tape. Trucks loaded with building materials streamed up and down the street, unloaded by swiveling, yellow forklifts that rode on tall tractor tires. Men on scissor-lifts were already installing windows, while others scrambled on top of the tall roof.
Shari sat at her desk and pounded away on her keyboard. She had been given the go ahead to write the story and she was busy recording the background. Like any good story, she started from the very beginning, capturing the moment she and Tom had first met. She smiled as she worked, frowning from time to time, laughing at others. She was in her element and she loved every minute of it. As she was writing about her initial meeting with Chona, her desk phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw that the call was from her financial advisor. She debated if she should answer the call, she was in the groove and hated anything to interrupt her, but she found that she was more curious as to why Rick Wellman would call her. “Hello?”
“Shari,” asked Rick Wellman, the same financial advisor her parents had used, the man responsible for doubling their investment value. “Am I bothering you?”
“Not at all, Rick. What’s on your mind? I hope everything is alright.”
“Everything is wonderful, Shari. That’s why I’m calling. We just got a hot tip down here on a new company that is making some big waves in cancer research. They’re about to go public and everyone down here is in agreement that this stock is a chance in a lifetime. I know how you like to play it safe, but I really think we should jump on this thing. Just think about it, okay? I will need your answer by the end of the day.”
Shari bit her lip. Normally, she would have quietly thanked Rick and told him she wasn’t interested. She kept her money invested in blue chip stocks, sure things, and while they never leapt up in value, they had always proven to be a safe investment. When Chona had given Shari an estimate at the total cost of rebuilding Doris’ house, Shari had nearly choked on the number. Though they could well afford it, the expenditure would put a big dent in her savings. “How sure are you about this company?” she asked.
“Between you and me and the fencepost,” whispered Wellman, “I’m all in. I’m telling you, kiddo, this stock is the real deal. I’d hate to see you miss out on it.”
Shari could feel her stomach twist into knots. She stared blindly out of her office window, wondering what she should do. Rick had never steered her wrong in the past, and as far as she knew, had never given her parents a bad tip. She took a deep breath. “I trust you, Rick,” she said. “Do whatever you think is right.”
“Shari,” said Rick, “you’ll never regret this. I’ll be in touch.”
Shari thanked him and they quickly said their goodbyes. With her head spinning, Shari found it hard to get back into her groove. Finally, she pushed Rick out of her thoughts and was able to bring her story up to date. When she looked at her clock, Shari was shocked to see that it was well past noon. She dashed out of her office and down to the parking garage. She had promised Tom that she would meet him for lunch and she hoped that he hadn’t eaten without her. She was famished.
Doris slowly opened her eyes and found that her body was riddled with pain. As she remembered what had happened, her eyes came into focus and she could see a faint light glowing from around the corner. How far had she fallen? Doris wasn’t sure, but she must have tumbled a long way. She checked herself for broken bones and was happy that everything appeared to be working. She would
have bumps and bruises, but she would be able to walk out under her own power. Slowly, painfully, she hauled herself to her feet. She groaned as great bells of pain rang in her ears. She gave a brief thought about returning to the top of the stairs, but that was all. She was in no shape to do any more exploring, not today.
Doris took a tentative first step. Her knees ached and felt sticky under the fabric of her sweat pants. She kept moving and the light grew brighter. She groaned at every step, but she didn’t stop until she reached the bottom. There, Doris stood and stared at the black expanse that stood between her and the light at the other end of the tunnel. Without the flashlight, she would be as blind as a bat. She waited there, gathering her courage, wondering if there would be enough to get her safely across. She remembered how wet and slimy the floor of the tunnel had been. This frightened her. One wrong step and she knew what could happen. She might die down here.
At that moment, something clacked in the spiral stairwell. The sound wasn’t particularly loud, but it had been loud enough to echo in the enclosed space. Doris lifted her arms and screamed. And then, for the first time in many years, Doris began to run. With her mind frozen with fear, never giving a second thought to what she was doing, Doris sprinted down the black tunnel and ran toward the light. Her echoing footsteps only caused her to run faster, as she imagined a bogeyman giving chase. She wanted to scream, to moan, but somehow she knew that she didn’t have the breath to spare.
She made it to the light at the opposite end, but Doris didn’t stop there. She took the steps two at a time, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. At the top of the stairs, Doris yanked hard on the chain and she became nearly delirious as light spilled in from the other side. As soon as she could fit through the opening, Doris burst into the living room. She fell flat on her face on the hardwood floor.
“Ahh,” she groaned, over and over, gasping for air and praying her heart would slow down. She lay there for a long time and eventually, Doris Picacello fell fast asleep.
Chapter 7
“There you are,” said Tom, relieved to see his new wife. “I was getting worried about you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Shari, “I got caught up in my work and time just slipped away from me. Have you eaten?”
Tom shook his head and gave Shari a quick kiss. “I told you that I’d wait for you. When you didn’t show, I took the liberty of running down to the deli. I hope you’re good with that.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’m absolutely starving.”
Tom led Shari over to a green patch of lawn. A large brown bag sat there along with two bottles of water. They both plopped down on the grass and Tom opened up the bag. They ate hungrily, pausing to talk only a few times before they finished their meal. Tom told Shari about what he had walked into, explaining how Sam had held his ground with the foreman. “He was right,” he said. “The inspector backed him up and they doubled that header thing. The foreman thanked Sam and even said that he would talk to his boss about what Sam had done.”
Shari smiled broadly and she gave Tom a kiss. “That settles it,” she said. “He is not sleeping under some bridge, I just won’t have it. Tonight, Sam is coming home with us. One of us has to be out here, anyhow. We can drive him back and forth and I won’t hear another word about it.”
“I’m glad you said that. I was about to say the same thing.”
“I love you, Tom.”
“And I love you, too.”
They sat and watched the men as they worked. Teams were busy hanging the siding and the roofers were already hard at work. The air was filled with banging and clanging and the sound of men giving orders.
And at that moment, Tom and Shari couldn’t have been happier.
They didn’t arrive back home until nearly 8:00 that evening. Initially, Sam had refused Tom’s offer and it had taken a few minutes to persuade him to spend the night with them. Tom could see that despite his past, Sam Calizzi was still a proud man and unaccustomed to charity. Too tired to cook, they stopped on the way and picked up a chicken dinner to go.
Doris, who was now wide awake after sleeping most of the day, was lying on the sofa when they walked through the door. An hour earlier, she had been wearing a long sleeve blouse over black slacks to hide most of her injuries, but she had changed into a red tank top and blue jeans. Her knees and elbows were heavily wrapped in gauze and she wore an Ace bandage around her forehead. “Ma,” exclaimed Tom, as he rushed to her side and fell to his knees, “what happened to you?”
Slowly, Doris put her hand to her head. Her eyes were half open and her mouth hung slightly open. “I fell, Tommy,” she stammered. She then groaned a little. “But don’t you worry about me, I’ll be okay.”
“Maybe we should get you to a doctor,” said Shari, tossing their dinner onto the table and rushing over to stand next to Tom. “Where did you fall? Do you think anything is broken?”
“I just said I would be okay,” snapped Doris, with a lot more force than she had intended. “Nothing is broken, not that anyone cares.”
Sam took off his boots and walked into the living room. He wore a 70’s era blue jean vest over a white t-shirt and faded jeans. He stared at his cousin for a long moment. “You sure got scraped up,” he said. “Where did you say you fell?”
“What is this,” growled Doris, “twenty questions? I didn’t say where I fell. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was outside on the steps when I fell. Don’t you have a parole officer to check in with, or something?”
Sam looked over his shoulder at the front door. “Yeah,” he said, “you did all that falling down three steps, huh? That’s too bad. Are you hungry? Shari picked up some chicken at the deli.”
Doris could smell the chicken and truth be told, she was starving. Still, this was her moment and she intended to milk it for all it was worth. “Tommy, I don’t think I could hold a fork,” she said, grimacing as she lifted her hand off of her forehead. “Would it be too much to ask to help me eat?”
“Not at all, Ma. I’ll go and fix you a plate.”
“Take out, again. Doesn’t your wife ever cook?”
Sam and Shari exchanged a look and they followed Tom into the kitchen. Sam went to the sink and washed his hands with dish soap, while Tom began cutting up bite-sized pieces of chicken breast. Shari went straight for the wine rack. “Doesn’t your wife ever cook?” she whispered, sarcastically. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she finds out where we’ve been.”
“I’m sorry about that,” said Tom. “She’s obviously in a lot of pain and probably doesn’t realize how that came out. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Don’t go making excuses for her, Fat Tommy,” said Sam. “Your ma could shave with that tongue of hers. You should have stood up to her. She knew exactly what she was sayin’.”
Tom raised a finger at Sam, but he only shook his head. Sam had been right. His mom did have a sharp tongue and she never missed a chance to cut with it. He scooped mashed potatoes onto her plate and ladled some gravy over them.
“Sam, I really wish you would stop calling him Fat Tommy,” said Shari. “I know it’s a family nickname, but I don’t like it. Could you do that for me?”
“Sweetie,” said Sam, patting Shari on the shoulder, “all I can say is that for you, I’ll do my best. Old habits die hard.”
“Thank you,” said Shari, offering Sam a glass of red wine.
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning to Tom. “And I suppose that goes both ways about old habits. I know your ma wants you to be happy. Just give her some time. She’ll come around.”
Tom smiled and nodded, doubting everything Sam had just said. “I know she will,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. He then picked up his mother’s plate and silverware and walked out of the kitchen.
Shari and Sam politely argued over which one of them should dish up, first. Shari stood her ground and won the argument. She hovered next to Sam as he fixed his plate. “So,” she whispered, “
you didn’t seem to buy her story.”
Sam seemed to consider his answer. “Did you buy it?” he asked.
“I might have, but now I’m not so sure.”
“My cousin, God bless her, but she’s a snoopy woman.”
“Oh really, and you think she was snooping around here?”
“I never said that. All I’m sayin’ is that she got pretty banged up falling down those three steps. Know what I mean?”
“How long are we going to do this dance, Sam?”
Sam turned to face Shari. “I’m done dancin’. Look, I love Tommy and I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Yeah, I found the lever by the bookcase. And if I found it, you can bet your britches that Doris found it. I mean, it ain’t hidden very good. I’m sorry, I wasn’t being snoopy. I never stepped a foot down there. In fact, I even showed it to Tommy. I told him that he should never go down there, not unless you was right there with him. Go ahead and ask him.”
Shari sipped her wine and nodded her head. “I didn’t know it was so noticeable,” she said. “Don’t worry, I believe you. And you think Doris fell down into the tunnel?”
“Just look at her. What do you think?”
Shari covered her mouth and giggled. “Serves her right, I can’t say that I feel sorry for her.”
“Aren’t you worried that she was over in the other house?”
“Not at all, I had the other end of the tunnel boarded up after my parents died. Besides, I’ve got a pretty good alarm system in that house. I’m not worried about her getting inside. That place is locked up tighter than a bank.”
Sam nodded and pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “If you don’t mind me asking, but what the hell are you hidin’ over there? Don’t you think you should show the place to your husband? Tommy is a good kid. You can trust him with your life.”
The Minnesota Candidate Page 7
