The River Burns Read Online Free PDF Page B

sedan, now parked, where a young man organized his materials. As he appeared to be on his own Alex ruled out the Jehovah’s Witnesses—no such sport today—yet hoped that his luck would hold, that the visitor would prove to be a salesman. So few were left nowadays. The stranger came around a cedar clump, tall, redheaded, flush with the confusion and anticipation of youth. Alex welcomed the good fortune that now beamed upon him. Not wishing to meet any man while down on his knees, he gathered himself to his feet, grunting a little, then waited to hear the fellow’s ungodly pitch.
    In a suit that ill-fitted him, probably culled from a rummage sale when first he got the job, the arrival was stymied before he began. He was undecided on the etiquette of approach. Should he cross the lawn? Or carry on down the road, the long way, and use the stone path? Alex waited for him to figure that out, and gave him marks for choosing to march straight across the lawn.
    â€œMorning,” Alex noted.
    â€œGood morning, sir!” the young man enthused. He was trying to offer his hand while shifting the weight of his awkward sales catalogue from one arm to the other. “My name is Jake Withers, and I—”
    â€œWhatever you’re selling, son, I’m not buying. Just so we understand each other.”
    Jake paused. Already this was not going as well as planned. He was still waiting for the handshake.
    â€œI represent the Rathbone Company?” The statement emerged as a question, as though he doubted his own claim. Alex rescued the hand hanging in midair and took it in his own and, cruelly, compressed it. He could see Jake’s eyes blanch with the pain. Then he let go.
    â€œIs that a fact? Don’t know those people. You don’t sound so convinced yourself.”
    â€œYes, sir. I work for—I represent the Rathbone Company? And I’m asking you today to imagine the one alteration that will transform your property.”
    â€œYou’re asking me to use my imagination. Is that a fact.”
    â€œYes, sir. Now picture this.” He turned to his left, and cast his free hand over the ground, as if to emulate Moses dividing the waters of the Red Sea. “A gleaming black driveway.”
    Alex looked over at his pocked gravel drive and saw a thing of beauty.
    â€œEh? Eh?” Jake pressed.
    â€œExcuse me just a moment, will you, son?”
    â€œYes, sir!” the young man consented. He walked with the older man until Alex turned into his house and then the younger one stood still. He silently rehearsed how he was going to embellish this deal, then close it. “Sir!” he called out before Alex made it inside the house. “You got a beautiful spot here.”
    Alex turned, smiled. “Thank you, son.”
    â€œI’ll tell you what I’m going to do.”
    â€œExcuse me for one moment, son.”
    â€œFor the boost to your property value that this will give you, you should be paying me double. Really, it’s like I’ll be paying you. But this is what I’ll do. Sign on the dotted line today, I’ll give you a ten percent discount. Just like that, right out of the blue. No need to haggle. That’s over and above the big boost to your property value that I’m talking to you about today.”
    â€œAm I excused or not?” Alex inquired.
    â€œSure, sure,” Jake Withers said. “Go right ahead, sir. I’ll be here.”
    â€œI’ll only be a moment.”
    â€œGo right ahead, sir.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Looking at the visitor from inside the house through the screen, Alex wondered if this was the lad’s first attempt at a sale ever. He returned outside onto his sunlit porch carrying a shotgun cordially pointed at the ground.
    The young man’s pupils dilated. “Is that thing loaded, eh?”
    â€œNot much point if it’s not.”
    â€œWhat do you shoot out here? Ducks? Is it