"A little more tearing," he said. "Here and there. Get the lath and plaster off the walls. Remove the moldings, get the drywall up. But yes, when I'm done it'll look as good as it did when Bellamy brought Mrs. B. upstairs for the first time."
"There," she said. "I thought so."
Yeah, she was still a loon.
He gathered up two-by-fours and carried them down in armfuls and heaped them on the junkpile. As for the ones with nails sticking out, he took the time to remove what nails he could and hammer the others flat. No point in getting sued by the parents of some kid who got a spike through his foot because he couldn't stay off the junkpile.
It was probably his next-to-last trip to the curb when he came back into the house to find Carville in the entryway, sitting on the bottom step. "I'm ready to haul that old water heater out," he said. "Actually, I was ready a while ago, but I been inspecting the rest of your plumbing and heating while you calmed down some."
"Calmed down?" asked Don.
"When I came to the door to get you a while back it looked like you was having a scene out there with some guy in a suit. Admit it, you was just showing off for the woman."
Don was embarrassed. Cindy hadn't been the only one watching. "You just saw what I do when I don't kill a guy."
"There was a minute there when I thought maybe he wished you would."
"I just don't know my own strength."
"Good thing, cause I was right about that water heater. So limed up we oughta have a winch to get it out."
"Instead you've got the Man of Steel." Hammer Man, he thought, and almost smiled.
"Batman and Lark."
"Funny."
Down in the basement, the old water heater lay like a corpse on the floor. Carville shone his flashlight around the pipes amid the joists overhead. "These are solid. You might as well keep using them, because taking them out wouldn't be worth the pain."
"They're strong then? Nothing corroded through?"
"If a nuclear bomb flattened this whole town, these pipes would still be hanging up there in the air."
"Yeah, they built this place solid."
"Any new pipes, now," said Carville. "Some of these bathrooms and kitchens was put in more recent than the others. Got cheaper pipes running along here and over here."
"Yeah, but I won't need those now, they'll come on out."
"You didn't need me to tell you this stuff."
"Wanted to make sure I was right," said Don. "And I'm not a furnace guy."
"Yeah, well, this gas furnace, don't ever hook it up, it'll kill you the first night."
"Bad, huh?"
"I sealed off the line till you can get a new one installed." Carville walked over and rapped his flashlight against the ancient coal furnace that must have been put in when the house was first built, because there was no way it could have been brought down the stairs. "This coal furnace," said Carville. "Man, it's big enough to heat one of those college buildings."
"Yeah, I figured I'd just leave it down here."
"Good choice. You know, I bet it would still work great. If you could stand shoveling the coal."
"Or find anybody to deliver it," said Don.
"Oh, they still do, you know. There's still a few coal trucks in the world." Carville walked around behind the furnace. "What I can't figure out is what this was for."
"What?" asked Don. He followed Carville and saw at once what he was indicating. There was a gap in the foundation behind the furnace. It was filled with rubble, but not haphazardly—somebody had plugged a hole. No, a doorway.
"I never actually looked back there. I mean, who'd break the foundation behind the furnace?"
"It was probably a root cellar or something," said Carville.
But Don knew that nobody would put a root cellar where you had to walk behind a blazing furnace to get to it. "Couldn't be a coal bin either, could it."
"No, the chute's over there. Oh, well, you never can figure out some of the weird things people do with their houses."
"It doesn't weaken the foundation, does it?"
"Not with that beam over the gap. Looks to me like this was here when the house was originally built. It wasn't added in later."
"Well, someday when I'm feeling more ambitious I'll dig it out and see what's behind there," said Don.
"Tell you what, don't call me in on that job."
"I wouldn't dream of it. All that's back there is Al Capone's vault anyway."
"Nice working with you, Geraldo," said Carville. "Now pick up your end of this chunk of limestone and let's get it out of here."
They were both strong men but they had to rest twice, getting the old water heater out. And getting it onto the junkpile had them both dripping with sweat and panting like fat old men jogging for the first time.
"I've been younger," said Carville.
"Yeah, but you were stupid then."
"But I didn't know I was stupid," said Carville. "I knew you were stupid, though."
"Go home, man, you've given me half the day, I can't afford any more."
"Hot water'll be ready in an hour or two."
"You did the electrical too?"
"I'm a full-service heating and plumbing and air-conditioning guy."
"That's why you're such a babe magnet."
"Naw. It's my pipe wrench."
"Take your tiny little pipe wrench and go," said Don.
A few more dumb jokes and Carville was on his way. It was a friendship that began in high school, and that was the level it was still at. Which was OK. That was all he needed from the guy.
The shower was all he'd hoped it would be. The new shower head didn't pulsate or anything like that, but it delivered a stream of water so intense it tingled and that was fine with Don. It was nice to shower in a tub he'd cleaned himself, instead of those truck-stop showers, which always felt kind of clammy and slimy and fungusy.
And then to pull back the shower curtain and dry off on his own clean new towel and put on a new bathrobe and slippers—it was downright domestic. From now on living here wouldn't feel like camping anymore.
Down in the parlor, he was just finishing buttoning his shirt when he heard Sylvie's voice from the hall. "Knock knock?" she asked.
"I'm decent," he said.
She came in. He sat down on the cot and started putting on socks. "Clean clothes," he said. "You ought to try it sometime."
"The dress isn't as dirty as it looks," she said. "After a while, the old grime builds up so thick the new grime just brushes right off. Sort of Teflon clothes."
"Bet we can market that and make a killing."
She smiled wanly.
"I left the soap and shampoo in the shower. Be careful cause it gets really hot now."
"I can hardly wait," she said. "You clean up nice."
He didn't know what to say. "Thanks." And then he had to change the subject. "Now that I'm cleaned up, I'm going over to call on those old ladies next door."
"I thought you said they were crazy."
"Yeah, but they really cook. Want to come, see if we can wangle two snacks for the price of none?"
She shook her head. "I'll stay here."
"They told me I could ask them if I had any questions about the house. They used to live here. Before you"
"What question are you going to ask them?" asked Sylvie.
"There's a gap in the foundation behind the old coal furnace. Might have been a root cellar or something."
"It's nothing."
"People don't leave a gap in their foundation for nothing, Sylvie." His shoes now tied, he got up and headed for the door. "I'm locking up behind me," he said. "You've got your key?"
She took it out of the wilted little pocket in her sad blue dress and held it up for him to see. "Thanks," she said.
He stepped out and closed and locked the door.
Sylvie listened to the dead-bolt close. She didn't need the key. She knew the house would open for her whenever she asked. But it still mattered to her. The key meant that he was admitting she belonged there.