Mornings are a particular delight of living in the most Southern tip of the Appalachian mountains. The sun points the sky with pink, gold, and orange before it can top a hillside, while the trees and valleys remain shrouded in blue and gray of morning mists. Light doesn't so much down as it does drop on top of the hollers around here. Sunrise gives a person the idea that they can rise at their leisure and greet the day on their terms.
Well, that's what I'm told at least. I wouldn't know much about it, which is the sun is just a broiling orb by now. The sky is a wonderfully encouraging blue, though, and it gives me enough hope about not wasting a day.
I find myself speeding back toward Hamage Estates. Everyone, there, is probably well into their day, as I turn off the main road. Please, rest assured that I slowed down when I turned onto the dirt road. Shadow without the mist lingers along the road beneath the pine and magnolia, and a jarring, white light greets me at the clearing.
The farmland of an earlier age stretches in every direction, though weeds and wildflowers do their best to reclaim most of it, and the woods rise at the periphery waiting to move in, after the flowers have their fun. For now, only the three houses dominate my view.
Same enough, I spot Charles, at the far end, tending his chickens, but I'm way too late to visit him. I'll just stop at Patch and Ethel's; I mean: they're the first home I come to, so it'll be easier that way.
By the time I arrive at Patrick and Ethel's, the smart glass is black, which I guess they've done to keep the glare out of their home. In one way, Patrick and Ethel did the most to keep their connection to the property. Although, I'm kind of inclined to agree with the rest of Hamage: The thing doesn't quite fit in.
Patrick and Ethel's home is three stories. They've got a typical cement block basement - that is visible from the road in all its utilitarian glory. From there rises the two stores of glass, which can only be considered a modern marvel (even if you don't like it). Now, this glass darkens, so outsiders can't see in, and they can darker only portions of it if they want, so they can have sun at the back while the front remains black. I admit: It's cool, but I don't get it.
Then, on the inside, the only walls are around the bathroom. Living room, kitchen, dining area - even the bedrooms are completely exposed. While the beds are upstairs in a loft arrangement, such a layout appears the opposite level of practical from the basement. Patrick and Ethel will even admit to the absurdity when Rufus was little, but they say it all worked out. I'll let you decide that.
After I pass through the front door (that is the narrower plate of glass that opens and closes), a completely foreign stillness for the home of a twelve year old boy greets me, and all the lights are off. Given my aforementioned inability to deal with sunrise, I suspect I may have missed something. Still, I can see that someone left the milk on the counter, so I might as well be helpful while I'm here.
I work my way past the dark leather sectional and black cloth chairs in front of a television worthy of any football stadium. A bit of color contrast is needed when you have the outside for your walls - I guess. Still, one must concede the living area must make a fantastic play area for children. Who wouldn't enjoy playing in the house with the surrounding fields as a backdrop?
Sylacauga marble tops the counters above the dark green cabinets and black appliances in the kitchen. The milk looks gray, but that's just by comparison to the mable. I take the bottle to the glossy black refrigerator.
Then, there in the middle of the fridge, right beside the plastic-y silver handle, is the announcement of my mistake. You see: Ethel leads a kid's activity group at the Hamage Public Library on the second Saturday of the month. Well, guess what today is? You got it: It's a second Saturday. Turns out that I am clear across town from Patrick, Ethel, and Rufus. That's alright though; I can just poof over there.
As for Hamage Public Library, I assure you that it would be completely recognizable to its former owner. First of all because the place is surrounded by paved, four-lane roads, which Dr. Mussentunger couldn't have imagined in the 1830s. Doc was the town’s first doctor, and he was real fond of reading - well, he was fond of books. Nobody ever confirmed whether he read any of them.
Nevertheless, Doc had a whole bunch of books, and he started having people over to borrow and talk about them when he got too old to practice medicine any more. He saw that reading had a positive effect on his visitors, so he left the town his house, land, and books when he died.
Now, Doc and his kin were probably in Hamage's second or third generation, and back then, Homage was more of a seed in the forest than any real stalwart of civilization in the woods. Yet, new generations replace old ones in a cycle down to Patrick and Ethel with Rufus on deck.
Each generation needs some room, though, so Hamage expanded. Farms replaced the trees; houses replaced the farms, and the people made space for themselves as the world changed faster than the generations.
Nowhere (possibly in the world but certainly in Hamage) could you find a more obvious metaphor than the Hamage Public Library. Doc's original stone cottage makes a central rectangle with a brick wing to the North and a cinder block wing to the South. You can still sit on Doc's front porch and watch a sunrise.
On this Saturday morning (or what's left of it), we join Patrick and Ethel in the brick wing that houses the children's section. Cutouts of trains, planes, automobiles dangle from the ceiling over the books, as the library runs an "explore by reading" campaign. Quotes from the actors in children's movies dot the walls. Obviously, this is meant to encourage children to read, but I have to wonder: Do the children in the library need this? Perhaps, though, these kids could use these quotes as retorts against those who bash them for reading.
Windows give a panoramic view of the road and the back parking lot, but they do let in plenty of natural light, which is nice. The windows run from ceiling to halfway down the wall, except in the Activity Room, where there are no windows.
Ethel does her best, though, to make the room interesting. All right, actually - it is true that Ethel selected and packed most of the stuff, but it's up to Patrick to hang it. (Who would have guessed that doing repair work in people's houses would give an eye for interior decorating?)
Anyway, Patrick finishes hanging a navy blanket with (what looks like) a glowing turtle Inside the door before the first plastic, fold-out tables. The blanket kind of divides the room from the library while setting a mood for today's stories and activities. (Plus, let's be honest: it'll dampen the noise too.)
Patrick beats the wrinkles out and asks, "What do you think of that?" (Got to stay mindful of the customer, especially when that customer is your wife, right?)
Ethel looks up from the small, round, wooden table, which she carried to the other end. A glance left and right comes before a nod, and she says, "That's great. Everyone'll have plenty of room to go around, so yeah, that'll work.” She places her books of Creek tales on the table, and Patrick moves to the center of the room.
He walks backward from the blanket until he plants his feet on a white and dark gray linoleum tile. Then, simply to make sure - he counts the tiles between the blanket, himself, and Ethel's table. (It should come as no surprise that he had it correct only from the backward walk.) He gives a single nod to the blanket before walking to a garment bag on the other side of the room.
Patrick removes a white dress from the bag, like trying to find his wife's keys in her purse. The dress is all one piece, it looks as though it has a poncho part on top. Colorful stripes of black, a clay shade of red, and a fern green circle the neck, waist, and bottom of the dress.He hangs it on the wall before rubbing the boils of his neck.
With a raised eyebrow, he looks at Ethel during his whole walk across the room. "I have to ask," Patrick says, "Did you plan this after our trip to Atmore, or is this just a happy accident?"
Ethel flinches while pulling a rocking chair to her round table. Patrick shattered the stillness, so Ethel needs a few short breaths to recover. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, Patrick. Use your inside voice.” Patrick shakes head with a scoff, so Ethel answers his question (before he can defend himself), "You know that I do not plan these topics. I simply fill in the details based on the library's calendar."
Patrick mashes his lips together. His face expresses a total recognition of Ethel's deflection. "No, wait a moment, Councilwoman." He says, "You could get such a calendar months in advance, so I'm not real sure you've answered my question.”
Ethel retorts, "Oh, stop it. You and I both know that Parry and Thrust might pay for a Paralegal degree, but they'd never make me a lawyer. And, this is a public library; I get the calendar at the start of the month like everyone else."
"Well, I suppose, then, that our family trip worked out pretty good. You've definitely livened the place up with this stuff.” Patrick finishes hanging the second dress with a blue swirl on a sunny yellow background and moves to a box on the shelf behind Ethel.
She pats him on his butt as he passes, and he jerks away. (In all honesty, Patrick appears to execute a perfect skip, but I won't tell on our handyman, if you won't.) He turns to her with wide eyes, holding his posterior.
Ethel says, "Good job," before a giggle. "You've set everything up wonderfully. I appreciate your help, and we had a good time on our Atmore visit, didn't we?"
Patrick turns back to the shelf with a red face and a nod. "We sure did," he says. "I've never seen Rufus that excited about history.” A pause comes with opening a brown cardboard box on the shelf. One layer of knick-knacks greets him, so he takes a step.
He surveys the shelf and says, "I enjoyed our dance at the community event too." Patrick imagines the contents of the box above the shelf before rearranging them a time or two in his mind.
Ethel fiddles with the table and chair; her arrangement must be perfect or the whole event will look silly. She says, "Yeah, that was fun,” as she forsakes the chair before a twirl toward the shelf.
About that time, a squeaked "excuse me, Mr. McGinty" alternates with a cracking "eww." Patrick and Ethel take a side step from each other (as if they were two students caught off alone) before a spin to face the Activity Room's door.
There stands a woman in a solid maroon peasant and flip flops, because days in November sometimes remind those in these parts that summer is never far away. (Though, come to think of it: She might be one to wear that footwear all year.) Beside her, A teenager stands in tight, straight-leg jeans with a Birmingham Barons hoodie, and shiny work boots.
Patrick laughs, while Ethel rolls her eyes. "Laverne," Patrick says, "we went to high school together; why the 'Mr. McGinty'?"
"That's a good question." Laverne watches her feet shuffle. "I have a work order for you, but I know you are here with your family, so you are under no obligation to fix it. Besides, our maintenance guy will be back on Monday, and he can handle it. However, Rufus told me you were here today, so I thought I'd ask; it should be a pretty simple job - I think."
"Yeah, 'should' is always a dangerous term from a customer," Patrick says. His arms reflex across his chest while he stares at Laverne. Without uncrossing his arms, Patrick asks, "So, what seems to be the problem?"
Now, Laverne’s feet settle underneath her, and she looks right back at Patrick. She states, "One of our table surge protectors isn't working."
Patrick turns his back on Laverne and returns to the knick-knacks in the box, but his mind's eye sees only a surge protector. While he puts the first souvenir on the table, he says, "So, Laverne, tell me about this surge protector. So, is it sitting on top of the table or is it inset?" He puts another figure out before Laverne answers.
"I don't quite know," Laverne answers. "It's even with the tabletop, so people can't knock it with their stuff."
"Inset, then," Patrick says. His picture of the surge protector settles into the top of a rectangular, wooden table. Another of the box's contents (this time a dreamcatcher) finds its place on the shelf. "Then, there's a connection between the surge protector and the floor?" Patrick inquires, "Or is it hardwired into a conduit in the floor?"
Laverne's hands twitch over her shoulders, like he asked her the difference between Newton's first and second laws of gravity. She says, "I couldn't tell you; why don't you come have a look?"
"Well, I need approval for the job," Patrick says as he empties the last item from the box. "What do you think, Dear?" He asks while turning back to the room only so far as Ethel.
Ethel shrugs, before saying: "You go and take Rufus with you." Patrick holds his hand with palm facing Ethel (clearly, he means to debate the issue), but Ethel says, "Go on. What else are you and Rufus going to do? Y'all will just go out there and sit, while I handle the activity. This is suppose to he family serve day, so go serve."
Patrick half raises his shoulders to his ears. (He got the approval, and he really has nothing to counter his wife's instruction.) He says with a sigh, "All right, let's have a look; Rufus, you're with me."
He hugs Ethel with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll still be in the library; if you need anything - and I mean anything, come get me."
Ethel squeezes Patrick a little tighter before saying: "It's fine. You act like I'm facing an unruly mob. You should be worried about yourself. This is Rufus' first electric job, right?" Patrick nods, and Ethel adds, "So, you best not get your assistant electrocuted. you hear me?" Ethel gives Patrick a wide-eyed look with pressed lips.
Patrick takes his steps toward Rufus and assures Ethel, "I've never electrocuted an employee. Though, I can't speak about what they've done to themselves."
The room gets one parting glance from Patrick before he passes through the blanket. It's a fine looking space - lots of color and the breakable things are out of easy reach. He gives the room a final nod of approval before turning to Laverne. He asks, "Alright, where's this table?"
"As Fortune would have it," says Laverne, "it's on the other side." Laverne takes the lead as Patrick slows his walk to follow Laverne. His only response is an observation about there being no other possibility except at the farthest point from Ethel.
"You really going to let me do this?" Rufus whispers while they pass the children's books.
Patrick's eyebrows tighten together as he looks sideways at his boy. "When have I ever not let you do a job that you were ready for?" Patrick imagines the surge protector and table again, trying to predict what they will find.
"You've never let me do electrical before." Rufus notes shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
Patrick shakes his head. He recalls the boy jabbing a screwdriver into a faceless socket and dropping a cable end near an open junction box - without a question of whether the power was off. Patrick weighs a couple of comments, and he settles for this: "Well, Son, there's still a bit of haste to your approach, so how about we take a look at this job, and we'll see what happens."
"At least I've got a shot," Rufus says with a shrug of his shoulders.
Patrick confirms, "We'll see;" then, he shifts his attention to the loose, frayed bun on the back of Laverne's head. It bobs as she walks. He asks, "So, Laverne, how long have you worked here?"
She shrugs her shoulders and says, "I don't really know, but it must be around ten years. I got an internship for my Master's program, and they kept me."
"Hmm" is all Patrick lets escape his lips, because he is curious at such an employment term without knowing how the table hooks up. He manages to wonder aloud only this: "So, when did this become the children's only wing?"
"Well," Laverne begins - happy for a topic that she knows something about, "That would have been in the '60s. This wing was built in the 20s, but it also housed nonfiction at that time, because the steel-boom necessitated a growth of nonfiction as well."
Rufus closes his eyes, and his head shakes with each of the words in Laverne's next sentence. "You got her going now - don't you?" He whispers through the last steps of the kid's wing.
Patrick pats his son on the back. "Listen, kid. When a customer can't tell you much about a job, it'd do you good to find something they can tell you about. No matter how good you are at the job; it'll do you no good without showing yourself, at least, professional or friendly - preferably both, but you've got to pick one."
Rufus huffs before saying: "That doesn't make sense. I thought you said, 'Get the job done right.' That's the most important thing.” At exactly the same moment, Laverne says, "So, that's how this wing became the children's section despite the wing being hilt in the 1920s."
Patrick's eyes dart between Rufus and Laverne. There's a real lesson to teach Rufus, but Patrick has no idea what his customer said. He looks around to notice their entrance into the original part of the library, so he pats Rufus' chest with the barb of his hand and points to Laverne with the other. Patrick says, "That's fascinating, Laverne. Thank you for telling us, so this is the original section?"
Laverne confirms their arrival in the original section of the library. While she begins a history of Dr. Mussentunger, Patrick explains, "Look, Rufus: There's a hundred people out there that can do a job as well - if not better - than me. So, I've got to have an edge. That's where professional or friendly comes in. If you can arrive on time, do a job at quoted price, and complete the job on time - congrats, you're professional. If you can make a connection with the customer beyond the job, great - now, you're friendly. And, the customer has a reason to prefer you over everyone else and (more importantly) recommend you to everyone else."
Rufus shakes his head and makes an observation about that being weird, while Laverne finishes her tour-guide recap of the original section. She launches into her history of the new section without any prompting from Patrick this time.
Patrick chuckles at Rufus, but Laverne overhears. "What's funny, Patrick?"
He gives a glance to Rufus in a "well, that's just great" tone but says, "I was just thinking, Laverne, about the construction of adding sides to an older building. I can just see people wondering how all this was going to happen. Them scratching their heads is funny because I've been there."
Laverne smiles and resumes her narration about the section that they've just entered, so Patrick addresses Rufus: "People find it hard to ask for help, especially with something as meaningful to them as their home or job, so it's helpful to smoothing the job if they like you. Anyway, this job kind of makes me wish we were listening to Mom, though - right?"
Rufus feels his laugh coming, so his hands flop over his mouth. He keeps them there as he slowly nods his agreement. Patrick whispers even lower to say: "I hope she's off to a better start."
As it turns out, Ethel has no better start. The brilliantly decorated room distracts a young Sophia, who keeps asking questions during "The Possum and His Tail." Ethel makes it only a couple pages before Sophia asks about one of the dresses. That leads to a different story about Ethel's acquisition of the garment, before she can get the group quietened down enough to restart the first story.
Sophia speaks up again with doubts about the blanket's authenticity. Ethel finishes the current page and tells Sophia, "Good question. Native American stuff has been faked before, but you can trust me on that one."
Ethel tries to go back to reading, but Sophia is unconvinced, so Ethel considers telling the story of watching the weaver make that blanket, but she thinks better of diving into another rabbit hole. "Real or not, it's got you thinking about Native Americans, so simply enjoy it while I finish our story, please."
The exuberant child slumps in her seat with crossed arms, so Ethel picks up with the animal tribes gathering for their dance. Before any discovery of the Possum's tail, Sophia wonders how the animals could hear the music. She says, "Wouldn't all the animal noises be too loud?"
Ethel closes her eyes to accompany several long, slow breaths. She could make up a reason, or she might ask about the child's experience with animals and music. Instead, Ethel paints a smile on her face, rises from her chair, and pulls a piece of paper with a pencil from a drawer beneath the knick-knack shelf.
She puts the paper and pencil in front of Sophia, which draws on "ooo" from the crowd. Ethel squats down beside Phyllis and says, "I'll make a deal with you: If you'll write down your questions and let me finish reading, we'll talk about your questions after the activity 's over. Deal?"
Sophia nods only once and starts doodling on the paper. Ethel walks back to her seat with a raised eyebrow. She makes a bet with herself that Patrick is about finished, since his job must be easier.
In fact, Patrick fights just as hard to keep his assignment going. Rufus does most of the work, because every passerby in the adult nonfiction area must give their opinion to Patrick. Rufus takes short directions from Patrick between Patrick's explanations to other people. Rufus waits between steps, but he keeps offering next steps to his dad, who can neither hear the suggestion or explain the process.
Patrick succeeds in guiding Rufus through testing the surge protector and the outlet in the floor. Patrick, silently, thanks God for the surge protector being plugged in. He hand-signals Rufus to test the floor plug. Rufus holds the voltage meter, so Patrick can see.
"Get the surge protector" is as far as Patrick gets in his instruction before a certified election stops to discuss the disadvantages of Patrick's volt meter, but Rufus gets the point. He tries to remove the surge protector - only to find it shewed into the table. Rufus interrupts the electrician, "It's attached to the table."
"Praise God," Patrick blurts. He excuses himself from the electrician and tugs on Rufus' hood. Rufus scurries to follow his dad away from the table.
"Great job, Rufus," says Patrick when they leave the nonfiction section. "I don't know how you followed direction - or even knew what the directions were, but nice job."
Rufus straightens up a bit after the pat on the back and says, "Well, this ain't our first job, but thanks. Everyone's got an opinion, huh?"
Patrick sets a hand on Rufus' back and gives a nod in recognition of his son's perception. They walk outside to the truck, and Patrick takes the opportunity to explain all the next steps, including: needed tools, what to look for when they get back, and how to replace an outlet. "Don't worry; I'll be right there the whole time," Patrick says, "and at least, we'll have some stones to tell Mom after her fun day with the kids." Rufus gives a "for sure" with a chuckle.
On the other hand, Ethel's time with the children may be underestimated. She gets through the story with Sophia distracted, but the craft snags at every step. A demonstration of making a paper plate into a dreamcatcher inspires twenty questions from those who couldn't follow all the steps.
She suggests it'll be clear in a moment, but that goes largely unheeded, so she passes out supplies anyway. Each table gets their plates, and the first table figures out how to use them as frisbees, before Ethel reaches the last table.
With threats of taking the craft away, Ethel hands out pipe cleaners to weave into the plate. This gives something to do, which brings a moment of silence to the room, so she easily gives the beads to each person before returning to her chair - first knowing that Patrick and Rufus are already done and enjoying their morning. She can't wait to tell Patrick all about her misadventure - and missing his help.
Misadventures abound at the Hamage Public Library today. Laverne cuts the power to the adult section, as soon as she sees Patrick come back with tools. Patrick rubs his head with a huff. "Wished she'd of waited on that." Patrick says, "All right, Rufus, change of plan." Patrick outlines a division of labor between Rufus checking the surge protector, while Patrick gets the new outlet ready.
Rufus detaches the protector quickly enough and sprints off to check it. Patrick barely gets the face off the old outlet before a new set of onlookers gathers. Immediately, questions about the project's length of time and advice about better solutions pom from the word like prices from an auctioneer.
While Patrick explains the situation and ETA - if they'll allow him to work, Rufus comes back and gives a thumbs up to the surge protector. Patrick takes the device and points to the outlet as someone complains about not being able to study for an exam.
Rufus pauses for only a second to roll his eyes. Then, he dives on the outlet - as if he's saving his general in the Ardennes Forest. He takes a deep breath glancing from the new outlet to the old one. The screwdriver appears in his hand, and four turns of it remove the old outlet. Six more turns and a redo of wire connections have the new one installed.
In the middle of a young man's lecture on the advantages of insert outlets over screw-ins, Rufus sneaks away to inform Laverne about the completed job. She turns the lights back on and follows Rufus back to the jobsite.
Patrick's eyes scan the ceiling without moving his head from attention to an old-timer, who described (in more detail than Patrick's journeyman) how he'd of done it. The instructor moves off in the middle of his plan with a "huh," so Patrick looks over his shoulder at the space where his boy should be - but isn't.
The crowd looks around at one another, and they exchange shugs while lowly wondering off - not saying anything. (You might think a great curse simply vanished with the way the sudden light silenced everyone.) Patrick is, obviously, grateful for the chance to look at job that he was supposed to do.
No damage is visible on the table, yet the surge protector doesn't wiggle - and shows a full reading on the volt meter. The outlet rests securely in the box, but there, right beside the outlet is a single screw and a faceplate, which Patrick retrieves with a smile. That's enough of a job well done to make a boss proud and leaves that touch undone for a dad to have a teaching moment. (Now, y'all, that's a rare enough moment to make one almost believe in flying pigs.)
Sure enough, here comes Rufus with a puffed chest and a noticeable swagger, until he spots Dad - leaning against the table and tapping the faceplate on his arm. Rufus' shoulders droop. but they don't exactly fall, yet his pace slows a bit, as Laverne steps ahead to shake Patrick's hand.
"Looks like a job well done, Patrick," Laverne says. "I can't even tell you did anything. Does it work?"
Patrick looks with a smirk and a nod, but he speaks to Laverne: "Well, that's because I didn't do much; that right there is a Rufus-job." Patrick hands Rufus an outlet tester before asking, "Well, son, the lady asked you a question: Does it work?"
Rufus accepts the tester better than any knight who ever received a sword from a king, and he stabs it into the surge protector while looking at his dad and Laverne. No one who's ever watched a fireworks display could be more excited about seeing a burst of light than Rufus about his lit-up tester.
"Nicely done, guys," Laverne says. "And, you should've finished about the same time as Ethel."
Patrick shakes Rufus' hand, adding," Good job, Rufus." Patrick asks about the boy's decision making at a couple points, and Rufus describes observations as well as conclusions. "It all worked exactly like you said it would," Rufus says in the end.
A laugh from Patrick draws a couple of 'shh's, before Patrick brings the faceplate from his back pocket. "Well, almost," Patrick says and hands Rufus a screwdriver.
Rufus narrows his eyes at his old-man, but he gets the faceplate attached nonetheless. "Now, since we've finished our job, let's go see if we can help your mom clean up hers."
They move through the adult stacks trading job stories. Compliments bounce back and forth. Patrick impressed Rufus with crowd management, and Rufus caught Patrick's attention through intentional work. Rufus even confesses to a couple of attempts on the outlet. Patrick settles for listening to his boy celebrate his first win with electricity as they pass from the beige carpet of the nonfiction to the slat-wooden floor of the original doctor's house.
Fewer people loiter around the fiction shelves than earlier in the day, so they make good time past the two levels of thin rectangular windows. Rufus chats the whole time about his work and the crowd around him. Patrick tries to applaud the good while advising on the good, but really, he knows the boy's excitement very likely prevents Rufus from hearing anything. Instead, Patrick contents himself with being present instead of the exact details.
A rush of small children (followed (somewhat lackadaisically by their parents) meets Patrick and Rufus at the last bookcase of the fiction stacks. Patrick nudges Rufus out of the way as the swarm flits past them. Rufus' eyes get big as he tunes back into the world around him. "I could have run them over; glad you were watching."
Patrick laughs again, but no shhs this time. He says, "Nope, they'd of run you over and likely trampled you to boot. Ever fallen prey to ten kindergartens?"
"Where have y'all been?" The demand from the archway to the children's section captures their attention, before Rufus can answer. Ethel spans the entrance holding a box under one arm, and her other hand is planted squarely on her hip. Although, a smirk below the tightened eyebrows betrays the whole attempt at anger.
Rufus' stretch from his pockets and rise to his shoulders. "We were on our way to help you," Rufus says, before Patrick adds what Rufus is thinking.: "But, we can go somewhere else, if you'd rather."
Ethel steps to them and beans in to get a hug from both. "Oh no, I'm glad to see you, but I don't need help; it's all been taken care of." Ethel points her nose toward the top shelf of the nearest bookcase.
"Thanks, Mrs. McGinty," comes from an assured voice at the archway. A girl parades by the family. "I had Mummie add next month to the schedule, so I shall see you then." The girl sweeps her dress around her and leads her mother toward the checkout counter with an armload of books about Native Americans.
Ethel bows her head an inch (a perfect imitation of a governess who won the respect of her charge but cannot yield ground) and says, "I appreciate your help, Sophie , and I look forward to hosting your next time."
There's a giggle from Sophia, but she never turns around. "Who's that?" Rufus asks with a look of smelling out of date milk.
Ethel laughs and says, "That is the one who did what you could not - help me." She takes a quick breath then a slow exhale before saying: "Besides, you wouldn't believe me, if I told you." Ethel's smile fades into pressed lips and half-relaxed eyes.
Rufus interjects into Ethel's wistful look: "Try me. Dad let me do an electrical job. I mean: He kind of didn't have a choice with that crowd, but I did an electrical job!"
Ethel scans him with a raised eyebrow as she pops Patrick in the stomach with the back of her hand. She asks, "What's he trying to tell me?"
"Oh, trust me: He'll tell all about it by the time we get to the front door." Patrick says holding both hands at his ears with palms facing Ethel. Then, he whispers, "And, he'll tell you a different version between the front door and the truck." Back to a volume that even Rufus can hear, Patrick adds, "But, no matter the story, he did good work."
Rufus leads the family out of the stocks toward the door, and he begins the "Tale of Rufus the Apprentice." Patrick lets Rufus get a couple steps ahead before he whispers to Ethel, "Sorry I couldn't help out today; did it go alight?"
"Oh, it went fine," Ethel says, "I'll tell you about it later. For now, it's Rufus' turn. Let's catch up." Ethel takes Patrick by the hand, so they walk in step behind Rufus.
When they reach the door, Rufus' story begins its transformation into "The Legend of Rufus the Electrician," and Ethel slides an arm around Patrick's waist. She whispers, "In spite of the hyperbole, it sounds like someone, besides Rufus, did some good work today."
Rufus pauses his story to hold the door for Sophia, who marches past, before Rufus resumes his story without missing a beat. Patrick watches Sophia glance over her shoulder with a smile. He places an arm on Ethel's shoulders and says, "Looks like we all did some good work today. I guess that's a successful service day?"
Ethel gives him a wink, and they walk to the truck as if they are the king and queen of prom.