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Maybe not ‘the shits’ but it did rank pretty highly. “Pretty odd story, to be sure.” I reached for my briefcase. I really wasn’t in the mood. But he wasn’t finished yet.
“Then, you know Louise? Pretty Mexican lady works in the office over there?” He gestured toward the closed door. I was pretty sure Irma’s ear was pressed against the other side.
“Nope. Can’t say that I do.”
“Yeah, well, she’s still over there. There’s a rumor goin’ ‘round that she’s pregnant. Used to go out and drink with the crowd from time to time, but she’s been drinkin’ soda lately. Been putting on a few pounds lately and Irma’s pretty sure she heard her gettin’ sick in the bathroom one morning. She’s not married—not even engaged.”
I think this was supposed to shock me, but Lenny seemed to forget that I was a card-carrying member of Generation X. I didn’t have the effort to argue with him about it though. “That right?”
He laughed heartily. “Yup. I guess we’ll know for sure here soon enough won’t we?”
I chuckled—with effort. “I guess so.”
“Guy lost a finger back in September in a machining accident. Some of the guys said they thought he was high—which I didn’t doubt, always thought he was a druggie—but his test come back negative and now he’s makin’ out pretty well with the workers’ compensation and all that.”
“Wow! He cut off his finger?” This was way more interesting than the romantic escapades of the office twits.
“That’s right. Cut that sucker clean off. More blood than I ever saw in my life—well, save the births of my kids, but you know.”
Actually I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know.
“Ahem, well, so Lenny, how have things been going on the business end?”
For about twenty minutes I kept him on task, but he’d drained his coffee cup and got up to pour another. He held up the pot and looked at me, silently asking if I wanted more, and I put my hand over my cup. I was still holding my pen poised over my legal pad, but apparently he couldn’t talk and pour coffee at the same time. He was licking his lips as he stirred in more sugar packets. He used the same stirring rod, one end of which was all chewed up.
The guy definitely had a case of nerves. He settled into his chair and then jumped up as though there’d been a tack on it.
“Say, I could really use a smoke just now. Care to join me?”
I could see that we were going to get nowhere without nicotine, and I had to admit I could have used a little myself just then. “Yeah, sure.”
Lenny grabbed his coffee and bounded out into the shop, leaving an intermittent trail of milky coffee splotches as he went. I followed him down the four cement stairs that led into the shop.
Inevitably, everyone in the huge room watched us as we went outside. I was pulling my coat on as we went and when we reached the door, Lenny opened it for me and jumped out after me. He already had a Camel in his mouth and lighter in hand. He lit the cigarette with one hand and offered me the pack at the same time.
“Don’t mind if I do.” I took one. I usually preferred cigars or specialty cigarettes, but I didn’t have any—trying to quit again. I really wished I had something better just now, but I gratefully accepted the Camel and the light offered me from the Zippo with a picture of a Camaro on it.
I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. When I finally exhaled, and opened my eyes, Lenny was staring at me.
“You okay, man?”
“I’m fine. I just haven’t had a smoke in a while. Trying to quit, you know?”
“Oh yeah, don’t I know it. Penny’s been tryin’ to get me to quit for years, but, well, you know how that goes.”
I nodded and smiled. He started to smile, but then his eyes got very wide as though he’d seen a car explode behind me. I almost turned around to see what was going on when he nearly shouted “Oh hey! I clean forgot to tell you about Wes. Biggest story of the year, boy oh, and it just happened last month.”
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