Casting Stones 1 | Page 29

Nine
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
Chapter 9
The sound of the shower running, woke Tanya. A few minutes later, Eddie emerged, dressed in gray slacks, light blue dress shirt, holding a tie in each hand and saw she was awake.“ I need to look more casual. Which One?” he asked, placing them against the shirt front.“ The striped one. And I love your casual look,” she said, as Eddie found the jacket that went with the slacks and tossed it over his shoulder.“ In case I have to go to the office,” he said. The statement puts a smile on both of their faces. Jumping out of bed, she hugged her husband and headed out of the bedroom. She stuck her head in her children’ s rooms to see if they were getting ready for school. Nicole was up and Tanya had to yell“ Rise and shine,” at the lump of covers in Justin’ s bed. The lump wriggled and grumbled. Justin emerged like a turtle. His head of dark, rumpled hair slowly making its way from beneath the thick quilt and covers.“ I’ m up,” he mumbled.“ I can see that,” she said, making a mental note to double check or send Nicole on her favorite morning pastime; carrying out mom’ s orders.
The kitchen smelled of coffee. Tanya saw Eddie pouring a stainless steel travel mug full of java.“ Gotta meet Rodney at the factory,” he said, as he kissed her goodbye and ran out the front door. The sky was changing from the indigo of night to the deepest shade of blue, as Eddie wheeled his truck into the entrance of“ His baby.” The headlights lit the heavy padlock on the yellow pole gate blocking the dark parking lot. He climbed from the cab. The chill of the morning caused his breath to mist before him in the white beams of the headlamps as he bent to roll the tumblers on the lock and swung the gate aside. Eddie donned the black leather jacket hanging on the hook behind the driver’ s seat, climbed in, sped across the smooth surface of the unused lot and pulled into a handicapped parking space.
The quiet enveloped him as he killed the engine and rolled down the windows, allowing the cool air into the warmth of the extended cab of his vehicle. Eddie gazed at the building he was about to transform and guzzled the remaining warm coffee from the mug. Eddie knew he could make this work if he could avoid the games. Frank provided the persona and Rodney had spoken openly and honestly. Sweeping lights moved across the facade of the building. The deep sound of diesel engines interrupted the quiet and his thoughts. Eddie looked in the mirror and saw two sets of headlights angle toward his parked vehicle. The flatbed trucks were loaded with perfectly stacked squares of cinder block. One of the trucks carried a piggyback forklift. The large, heavily treaded, fat tires indicated the forklift was prepared for any type of terrain. Eddie waited behind his pick-up as the first truck pulled next to him. The man behind the wheel glanced at a clipboard.“ Are you Mr. Dodge or Mr. Williamson?” the driver yelled over the clatter of the engine from the open window of his red truck.
“ I’ m Eddie Dodge.”“ If you sign at the bottom, I can start unloading. Where do you want the load?” he asked, handing Eddie the clipboard.“ We are going to fill in between the columns. If you were a mason where would you want them?” Eddie asked, pointing at the stone posts, evenly spaced, along the front of the building.“ I’ m not a mason,” the surly driver said.“ How long you been delivering block?”“ Twenty years.”“ You’ ve never heard a mason say,“ Why the fuck did they drop them over there?” Eddie asked, with a chuckle, pointing at the far corner of the parking lot.“ I’ ll space them along the curb. They will probably want a stack or two where your pick-up is parked,” the driver said, realizing, despite the tie, Mr. Dodge might know what he was doing.“ Consider it moved,” Eddie said, handing back the signed paperwork. Pulling one of the triplicate forms from the work order, the driver handed Eddie a copy, set the air brake and killed the engine. With a sharp“ PHISSST!” and a knocking halt, the sudden silence was broken by the creaking groan of the opening driver’ s door. The driver, wearing faded blue jean, bib overalls, pressed, white T-shirt and highly polished black work boots, climbed from the cab and lumbered toward the other truck. The high and tight haircut and boots indicating ex- military. Eddie put the paperwork in his briefcase and moved his truck to the middle of the parking lot while G. I. Joe, in bib overalls, talked to the other driver. The delivery trucks were positioned precisely at one-third intervals. Joe began the task of unloading the forklift. The other driver