“Mom has those in the Jeep.It’s nice,” the boy contributes.
“I bet.Listen, I’ve gotta make one stop,” I announce.“Gotta drop off that box at The General Store downtown.Have you been in there before?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You would’ve remembered.The place has everything.It’s been here forever, and at some point was the only store in Silence.Food, books, household items, clothes, hardware, you name it, they have it.In the old days they even used to sell boots and saddles.They don’t have those anymore, but still carry a boatload of other stuff.If you’re looking for something and strike out everywhere else, chances are you can find it there or Mabel will be able to order it for you.”
“Mabel?”
“She runs it.That’s who is waiting for that box.”
Mabel had called yesterday morning, asking if I had some new stuff for her, because she’d be heading into Spokane on Monday to drop off more supplies for the charity.That’s what I needed to do last night, go over every piece to make sure no ends were loose or sticking out, before I packed them.
“What’s in the box?”Remi inquires nosily.
“I’ll show you when we get there.”
His mother already knows about my hobby, and I figure, if anything, it might help me build up trust with the kid.It’s nothing to be ashamed off, although, I’d rather my poker buddies don’t get hold of that information.It would supply them with endless material to roast me with.
“There you are,” Mabel booms from the rear of the store when we walk in.“And I see you brought reinforcements.”
She must’ve seen Remi behind me, toting the box.
Mabel is already rounding the ancient counter by the time we get to the back.
“Put it up here,” she orders, tapping a hand on top of the counter, as she narrows her eyes on the boy.“You’re new in town.”
“Yes, ma’am.I’m Remi Androtti.We moved here earlier this year.”
Tessa did a good job raising the kid.I didn’t expect him to be this polite and had been ready to make the introductions, but I see there’s no need.
“Ah, yes, I heard about the new detective.I thought the name sounded like that race car driver.You related by chance?”
“No, ma’am.You’re probably thinking of Mario Andretti.”
Mabel shrugs.“Only off by one letter.”
Then she turns her attention to the box and swiftly cuts the tape with a sharp nail, opening it.She pulls out each blanket in turn, unfolds them, inspects them, only to fold them back up and stack them on the counter.
“Nice,” she comments.“Got time to pick out your next yarn?Just got a new shipment in.”
“Not today, Mabel.Remi and I have an errand to run.I’ll see if I have time this week to pop by.”
“I’m around.”
We say our goodbyes, and when the boy and I are back in the truck, he turns to me.
“You made those?”
“Yep.”
“I didn’t know guys could knit.”
“Why not?”I counter.“Although, I don’t knit, I crochet.Not that it matters.”
Remi shrugs as his eyes slide to the road.“I dunno.I just never heard of that.”
“Fair enough.I guess I never had either, that is, until earlier this year.I’m sure some folks look at it funny, but I found myself with too much time on my hands and don’t do well sitting still.This keeps my hands busy and I’m doing something useful.”
