Robert Reed - The Myrtle Man

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2024-11-23 0 0 38.65KB 20 页 5.9玖币

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ROBERT REED

THE MYRTLE MAN

He had a pleasant face, in a reliable, unhandsome way, and his warm brown eyes

and easy smile made Amy want to believe the best in him. His name was Jacob

Tumbull, the crisp brown uniform and two IDs proving that he came from the

library dealership. Gazing at the camera above the sealed front door, he said,

"You have myrtle problems, as I understand it." He lowered his passport, then

brightened his smile. "Something about John Wayne riding into battle on a

fire-breathing dragon. Is that right, Ms. Taylor?"

"Oh," she exclaimed, "it's a lot more than that."

Referring to the reader on his belt, he laughed and said, "And something about

the shape of the world, too."

"It's round," she blurted.

"Yes, ma'am. I know."

Amy said, "But my son doesn't. Our library taught him it's like an apple. You

know, with holes at both ends."

"It's a common myrtle, ma'am."

"Can you help me?" Did she sound anxious? Vulnerable? Or just crazy?

Crazy would be the worst, she believed. "I don't dare let him read or watch

anything. I mean, he's a boy. He doesn't understand --"

"Yes, ma'am."

"The library is lying to him!"

"Ms. Taylor," he said, "I want to help. But first, I need to examine your

equipment and determine the extent of your trouble."

"'A purge and refill job.' That's what I was told to expect."

"Eventually, yes." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "But first I need to

check the hardware, then I'll have to protect all the files that belong to you

and your family. A general purge would erase them."

She said, "Fine."

She said, "I understand," without meaning it. A long truck was parked at the

curb, and she focused on its license, jotting down the number because she

didn't

trust her library to record this critical detail. Then she touched a button,

saying, "Come in," as the door unsealed with a menacing kla-chunk.

These were clever, malicious times.

What if she'd just invited a thief into her home?

Yet Mr. Turnbull didn't appear the least bit criminal. Looking nowhere but at

her, his eyes showed nothing but a bloodless, professional interest. And she

still couldn't relax, blurting out, "My husband's going to be home soon. Maybe

any minute."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you need me to show you the library?"

The face only hinted at amusement. "It would help, yes."

Then from behind: "Mom? Who is it?"

Harry came charging out of the basement. Her son was wearing shorts and an

unflattering mesh shirt, and he was sweating, a large orange ball in his hands

and his breathing damp and fast. In a secret way, she was glad the library was

broken. Her son needed this exercise. She knew it as surely as she knew she

should do it too, but then again, he was young enough to change his ways. A

vigorous game in the playroom was a good thing. Harry had inherited her

fat-hoarding genes, and that was just another thing to make her lie awake in

fear.

"You're the myrtle man," said Harry.

"I am," the invader confessed.

Amy motioned. "It's just upstairs." She took the first few stairs, then paused

and looked over her shoulder.

"I'm following," the myrtle man promised. "Lead on."

"So where's your cable?" asked Harry, something suspicious in the tone.

"You're

supposed to bring in a glass cable, and stuff."

"I will. My stuff's in my truck."

Harry waited for an instant, then said, "I found the myrtles."

"Did you?"

"Well, a bunch of them."

"So," the man asked, "what's the shape of the world?"

"Round," Harry replied, almost growling. "That's what Mom says." Amy hesitated

on the top stair, remaining silent.

"It is round. How can it be anything else ?" The myrtle man laughed, then

asked,

"What's your name?"

"Harry. What's yours?"

"Jacob."

"It says Jacob on your shirt," Harry observed.

"Very astute."

"What's astute mean?" He shouted up at his mother, "Can I look up 'a-stute'?"

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Robert Reed - The Myrtle Man

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