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Noor said “What’s an espresso maker?”

Robson said “You don’t know what an espresso maker is? Girl, you been on that farm too long. An espresso maker is in fact a beautiful shiny thing that has the words espresso maker on it. I’m pretty sure that’s what it says. And now these drunk ticklers have probably busted it.”

Noor shook her head. “A beautiful shiny thing. Could it be that those coloured windows are affectin’ your brain?”

Spring said “His brain went beautiful and shiny a long time ago, and just as useless as his espresso maker.”

101 rose from his chair and stood there teetering for a few seconds, with Powell and Spring, who were seated on either side, reaching up to catch him if he fell. 101 found his balance, bent for the bottle, and stepped sideways around the semicircle, holding the bottle with both hands, filling cups, attending first to Noor’s. This pretty well finished off the wine.

Noor said “It’s called a block and tackle. We’ve got one. We use it to hang up cows when we gut them.”

Robson waved a finger and said “Now, you see — if you’d a brung the block and tackle instead of the sandal, we could’ve skipped the barefoot, one-legged woman.”

“True, but then she’d have to continue goin’ around with one cold foot.”

Robson sat next to Noor with elbows on knees. He looked at her and said quietly “I would never trade a gift that you give me.” He sat up, leaned, kissed Noor lightly on the lips. He took her hand and resumed looking into the fire. “You asked what the Church Gang has been up to? Scavengin’, tradin’, tryin’ to stay out of the rain. Hollyburn had the brilliant idea to climb the stairs right to the top floor of some tower.”

Hollyburn said “Down near the water. Them stairs was dark. I mean black dark. But my mind was made up. I was goin’ to the top.”

Robson said “In a room at the top he found a skeleton wearin’ that coat.”

Hollyburn said “Perfect fit. Don’t stink at all. Finished stinkin’ forty years ago”

“So after that we all started climbin’ stairs in the dark.”

Noor said “These clothes you’re wearin’ are from skeletons?”

“No, just Hollyburn’s coat. The rest are from closets.”

“Should I believe you?” When Robson did not answer she said “No squatters in those towers?”

“Just on the bottom floors. Only the Church Gang is crazy enough to climb twenty floors in black darkness. Ice found six glass bottles full of brown hooch. It’s called whisky. We should’ve saved some for you. I will if we get any more. Powell, show what you found. Powell’s a scavengin’ fool.”

Powell went behind the fireplace and came back with a rifle. He said “It’s called a 22. I know ’cause my daddy had one. But he didn’t have no bullets.” He showed a small cardboard box that he held in one hand. “We got bullets.”

Spring said “He kilt a rat with it. Scared the shit out of me.”

Powell took a bullet out of the box to show Noor. “See, when you pull the trigger — that’s this here thing — this part of the bullet goes flyin’.”

Noor said “Is that what you use it for, to kill rats?”

Robson said “We don’t use it. See, we don’t know if we’ll ever get any more bullets. We clean it. We keep it ready.”

“In case” said Noor.”

Robson nodded “In case”

She said “You know Langley took Wing’s farm?”

Robson nodded again.

“Now he’s lookin’ at Fundy’s. And maybe ours.”

“Take the 22 when you go. Kill that son of a bitch. Take Powell with you.”

Powell said “I’ll be happy to do it for you.”

Noor said “No, I’m sure Langley knows all about your church full of treasures and is just waitin’ for his chance to help himself.”

They chuckled, but Robson said “I got to say you’re right. Now, what did 101 do recently that’s worth mentionin’? Well, 101 pried open the back of a car and found….”

From a pocket of his sleeveless jacket 101 extracted a compact pair of binoculars. He said “It’s for lookin’ at things far away. It makes them look close.”

Noor took and examined the binoculars. She said “Lenses. Like Grampa’s glasses.” She looked through the tubes, toward Spring’s face. She saw only full lips surmounted by a fringe of very fine pale down, random hairs of which caught blinks of light from the fire. The lips bent into a smile.

Hollyburn said “It’s called a block-your-door.”

101 cried “Damn, would you stop givin’ names to things you don’t know nothin’ about! It’s no god damn block-your-door!”

“Well, what is it, then?” Hollyburn cried in high-pitched irritability.

They all looked at Noor. She shrugged and shook her head.

Robson said “Take it for Frost. A gift from the Church Gang. He’ll know what it’s called.” Robson glanced at 101, who nodded his permission.

Robson said “As for Spring… Spring don’t care much for stairs.”

Spring said “I stay home and cook. Me and the 22. I’m too fat to climb twenty floors or two floors, in pitch dark or broad daylight. I have the honour of bein’ the only fat person in Town.” Spring slouched habitually but was pretty. She was pale-skinned and had wavy blond hair that hung loose. She wore a contented smile most of the time. “How do I stay fat when we hardly got nothin’ to eat?” She shrugged her thick shoulders. “Looks like Ash is going to be fat too. He’s got the fat magic, like me. We’re just lucky.”

Powell said “Where’d he get to, anyway?”

Spring said “He’s just there behind the fireplace, sleepin’.”

They were quiet for a while. Robson rose and took a piece of cordwood from the pile and laid it on the fading fire. When he sat again he said to Noor “If you had a boat you could come around the point by water. Like the Park Crew. We’re not far from the beach. That’s a dangerous trip you made with your horse.”

Noor said “Sure. Find me a boat in one of your towers, and I’ll sail it around the point.”

“Or you could stay here with us.”

101 and Powell went “Oo” and made smooching noises and giggled.

Ice said “You was just offered the big offer, girl.”

Noor said “I’ve got to take care of my grampa.” They all watched her, waiting. She said “You could come to the farm.”

Now they watched Robson. He looked down at the floor, shaking his head a little. “I’m a Town boy.”

The reply seemed to sadden everyone except Noor. She smiled and laid a hand on Robson’s forearm and said “Well, maybe you’ll find that boat for me. Maybe I’ll get Daniel Charlie to make one.”

Even seated in the office chairs it was obvious that Robson was much shorter than Noor. He was broad-shouldered and heavily muscled. His skin was cinnamon-coloured like hers. He had hair as curly and wild as her grandfather’s but thick and black and shiny, and he had a dense trimmed beard. He wore a headband made from a silk necktie with stripes of gold and green. He leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on knees, looking into the fire. The piece of wood caught, and the small flames reflected in his black eyes, which were large and round and liquid. He said “It’s good what you’re doin’ with your grampa. Your grampa’s got the idea that things could be better. He’s a good man. He’s the best kind of man. The rest of us are just goin’ from day to day.”

“Collectin’ and tradin’” said Powell.

“Climbin stairs” said Ice.

“Hopin’ to stay healthy” said Spring.

“Waitin’ for the wine to get ready” said Hollyburn.

“Waitin’ for the girl from the farm to drop by” said Robson, and turned slowly to Noor.