Dead Silver

27

After lunch, Madbird and I went back to the carriage house to finish collecting our tools. I still wasn't sure what Renee had in mind or how long that would take, and he needed to get going, so we decided he'd drive my truck to the job and swap it for his van. She could give me a ride out there to get it.

We gathered our gear quickly, with the unconscious precision of having done so countless times before. But this time I hit a minor snag. The five-sixteenths socket from my set, about the size of a cigarette filter, was missing. I was sure I'd left it on the workbench, and at first I thought it must have rolled off. It was bright chrome and should have been easy to spot, but I checked the area carefully with no luck.

"You didn't see a socket lying around, did you?" I said, in case Madbird had put it someplace else.

He shook his head. "You check your tool belt?"

It was true that we often pocketed things like that without realizing it. I dug through the belt's worn leather pouches and spread their contents on the workbench-a couple of pounds of nails and screws of a dozen different kinds, chalk box, utility knife, much-nicked chisel, twenty-five-foot tape, nail sets, lumber crayon, pencils, a handful of sawdust and plaster chunks, and a bottle cap from a Mickey's Big Mouth beer. I couldn't figure out how the hell that had gotten in there-I hadn't drunk Mickey's Big Mouths since high school.

But no socket. Not that this was a big deal; I had a couple of others somewhere, and I could buy a new one for a few bucks. There was just something peculiarly annoying about losing a tool. It would nag me for weeks, and I'd be looking for it subconsciously everywhere I went. I scanned the room in exasperation, trying to think of other spots where I might have stashed it.

Then I heard Madbird's deep rumbling laughter. My annoyance level rose. I didn't see how this was all that funny.

"What you want to bet that thing got drug off where the sun don't shine?" he said.

When his meaning hit me, I had to laugh, too.

Those motherfucking pack rats were still on the job.