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Three of a Kind - 40
Chapter Six
Zane finished putting the leftovers away for them to take to the site, then headed out the back door
to work on his truck before it got too dark. He wasn't staying in the main house any more than
necessary to cook and eat and clean up, use the bathroom and shower. He'd upset Randy, somehow,
and that wasn't very fair, was it?
He and Butch were right friendly, chattering and joking on the ride to the job. The big boss liked
him well enough, too, giving him more and more to do.
Once he got another paycheck, he'd start paying Butch back and really work on the truck, maybe
talk about buying the trailer and moving it somewhere with water and more electricity than an
extension cord. It was old and hot and falling apart, but it was clean.
Randy was already out there, picking through the junk near the truck, a half-full basket next to him.
"Evenin', Randy." He smiled, nodded, trying to be friendly.
"Oh, hi, Zane. Hi." Randy ducked his head and then raised it again. "I won't be long. I don't wanna
make you uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable? I'm cool. I don't mind company." He popped the hood, started working. "Whatcha
doin'?"
"Looking for diamonds in the rough. There's a goldmine of good stuff here. I'm looking for little
bits." Randy gave him a bit of a smile.
"Little bits? Oh! I found something for you at a site!" He dug in his pocket, pulled out the handful
of colored glass beads.
"Oh, those are amazing!" Randy jumped up and held out his hands, beaming wide. "Oh, they're
cool, Zane. And look -- these are just like your eyes."
Zane grinned. "Yeah. Pretty wicked, huh? I saw them and reckoned you'd have a use for them."
"Very wicked." Randy bumped his hip. "Thanks, man."
"You're more than welcome." Good job, Z. Way to make amends. He leaned deeper into the truck,
feeling easier in his skin, less like an intruder.
"So what about you -- what're you doing?" Randy leaned into the truck with him, blinking at the
engine.
Three of a Kind - 41
"Trying to fix this old bitch so she runs." He grinned, started pointing out the pieces he'd replaced,
the parts that still needed fixing.
"It looks pretty complicated..."
"Some of it is, but these old trucks are easy compared to the new ones."
"It'd make a neat sculpture. Without the truck around it. And maybe some color."
"I've seen that sort of thing, down at Rice in one of the museums. Industrial art. Pretty cool." He
loosened the carburetor. Damn thing needed a cleaning.
"You've never come into the studio to see my sculptures. You wanna?"
He looked over, nodded. Hell, even if he hadn't been curious, he'd have said yes, but... "That would
be wicked, thanks."
Randy bounced and beamed at him. "Cool. Come on. I mean you've seen some of my work in the
yard, right? Butch says you can't tell the art from the junk most of the time, but he's being funny
when he says that."
"He's very proud of you. Says you sell your work in a gallery?"
"Yeah. Some guy showed up a couple years ago and wanted to buy it. Can you believe that? It
makes me laugh sometimes, thinking of my sculptures in people's living rooms."
"That's cool." He shut the truck hood, following Randy back across the yard.
Randy grinned as he opened the door. "I'm working on the pieces of you. You know from when I
sketched you?"
"Yeah. Me? Really?" Weird and cool all at once.
Randy nodded and pulled him into the room, turning on the lights.
There were pieces everywhere and stuff stacked in shelves against the walls. None of the pieces
looked like him. None of them really even looked like people. Or faces.
There were lots of things though that might have been curls, curly and springy and green marbles
and glass and paint in twos that must have been eyes. One that was a square-ish shape of metal in a
cowboy hat.
"Wow. Wow, this is too cool." He looked around, fascinated.
Two of the walls were lined with shelves with all sorts of clutter on them. Zane couldn't have told
Three of a Kind - 42
you what order existed there, but he would bet Randy knew where everything was and had a reason
for why the lengths of metal pipes were sitting next to a basket full of broken plates.
A third wall had large pieces of stuff leaning against it. There was welding equipment in one corner
and all sorts of hammers and tools scattered all over the place.
Randy moved to one of the pieces, bouncing. "This is you. See the glass marbles? Those are your
eyes. And this is your hair. It's a metaphor, you know? Because you were all hair and eyes that day.
When we first met. Or was it the second time? Anyway. It's you."
"It's wicked cool, Randy." He was serious; it was weird, but really cool. Sort of fascinating and
wild and innocent.
"Yeah? Really? Wicked." Randy bounced over to another piece, this one the cowboy hat. He
picked up a piece of paper from the floor and brought it over, showing a sketch of him wearing his
cowboy hat, but the inner lines had all been rubbed out, leaving the shapes, which the piece itself
echoed completely.
Zane grinned. "Wow. That's... Wow. I like it. Very..." He searched for something he'd learned in art
history at school. "Minimalist."
Randy laughed and caressed the piece with his fingertips. "It's my favorite. I call it 'hero in a
cowboy hat'."
"Hero? Why hero?"
Randy shrugged, smiled. "Because your face was swollen and your ribs cracked and you didn't [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]