by Barry Rachin
“Do you know who that was?”
“Donald Carrington,” Carl replied. “An art dealer with galleries in Hyannis, Martha’s Vineyard and Newport, Rhode Island.” He scratched an ear leisurely and grinned. “Mr. Carrington just placed an order for five thousand dollars.”
******
Carl stopped by later that night. He sold a little over two thousand dollars to retail customers. They weren’t looking for gifts. They bought larger pieces as collectibles - personal investments, not unlike stocks or mutual funds that would appreciate in value over time. Carl also took a second, substantial gallery order. “There’s enough work to keep me busy nonstop for the next six months.”
“How can you meet deadlines while working at the school?”
“I’ll cut back my hours or quit altogether and find part-time custodial work.”
“Between the woodworking and a new job, I’ll hardly see you anymore.”
“Not necessarily..” Carl reached into his pocket and removed a diminutive box. Not the sort of box he was in the habit of making. No, this was clothbound with polished chrome edging. Very small. Not terribly practical. Just the right size.
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