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“Yeah,” I say. Not sure if you’d be found by the right people, anyway.
He pulls his phone out and whips off a quick text, then clicks off. A few moments later, the shaft is flooded with light from the bottom.
“Oh,” I say.
“Is that better? Less well-like?”
“Thanks. It is better.”
“You got out of that well, Vicky.”
“I got out. And grew up to be a dog whisperer slash captain of industry,” I add. He says nothing. It’s a stupid joke. “I’m sorry. I’m just messed up right now.”
Bangs and drills sound from below.
“It’s hard to be powerless like that.”
“It’s more about the fear,” I say. “Did you ever have that fear of footsteps in the dark? And then you get to the warmth and light of safety and it’s such a relief. But in the well, it was like the footsteps never stopped. Hour after hour, the terror kept grinding on. It took everything out of me. Fear is exhausting. Little-known fact.”
“How long were you in it?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says.
“Something. Else.”
He sighs. “You know that model we fixed together? With the trees? And I wouldn’t tell you why it was important to fix it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, now I’m telling you. There’s this guy, Renaldo, he’s the one who made it. He eighty-five, one of the oldest guys in all of Locke. He helped my grandfather and father build the company, and he definitely has enough money to retire, but building is his life. Those models take him forever to make, but Brett and I feel like it keeps him alive. And if he saw the thing destroyed…he’d be crushed.”
“You seemed mad.”
“Well, who’s leaving their bevs all over the model? Right? Anyway, he was kind of an uncle to Brett and me. As my dad got too busy to deal with us, Renaldo was the one who’d take us around, make us learn the ropes with the trades. Brett and I would go and do our homework at that place, and if we finished in time, Renaldo would give us little assignments. Make a five-inch bridge out of ten toothpicks and a piece of string, stuff like that. And there would be a test, like the bridge would have to extend between blocks spaced five inches apart and be able to support a stack of ten quarters.”
“A bridge made out of just a piece of string and toothpicks? How is that possible?”
“You’d be surprised what you can make from a piece of string and toothpicks. It’s excellent building material.”
“Maybe this is the part where you reassure me that even though it’s excellent building material, you went on to use more durable materials in the construction of things like freight elevators in boutique hotels.”
He turns to me there in the strangely lit shaft. “This thing’s solid steel, baby.”
I suppress a smile, because of course it sounds slightly sexy. “So you keep Renaldo on staff. That’s sweet.”
“He gave us an amazing education. He’s a master builder—literally.”
It comes to me that he didn’t mention his mother. As if she wasn’t in the picture. “Did your mom help out with the company?”
“No.” He pulls out his phone. I don’t press him on it. I’m not exactly the mother relationship queen myself.
“I want to tell you something and have you hear me on it. Trust me on it.” I need to tell him without violating my pact with Carly.
“Yeah?” He slides his hand along mine.
“Your mother handed over the company to Smuckers.” That’s not violating our pact, right? It’s a true fact. Light beams up from below, peeking through slits in the metal. “Things…tend to work themselves out. When something belongs to somebody, it tends to find them.”
