The Minnesota Candidate (9 page)

“I’m tellin’ you that there is no way that
header can support that much weight,” growled Sam, standing
toe-to-toe with a man in a red foreman’s hardhat. Tom recognized
the big man, a hardboiled brute with heavily tattooed arms and a
stringy white beard.

The other man held a blueprint in one hand and
he jabbed his finger at it. “And I’m telling you that this is how
the architect designed it. Sam, I like you, but you’ve got to let
it go. Don’t make me walk you off the job.”

“This is my cousin’s house,” said Sam, not
giving an inch. “And I’m not movin’ until we get an inspector in
here. Just look at that expanse, we need to double that header
up.”

Several men had gathered in the large room and
Tom waded through them. “Excuse me,” said Tom, “what seems to be
the problem?”

“Fat Tommy,” exclaimed Sam, his eyes lighting up
at the sight of him. “Look at this, will ya? Do you think that this
header is safe?”

Tom didn’t know a header from a hole in the
ground and he shrugged his shoulders. The foreman recognized Tom
and he flung the blueprints in front of him. “You see,” he said,
pointing at a cluster of lines and angles, “that’s the way it was
designed.”

“And I’m tellin’ ya that it needs to be doubled
up,” said Sam, crossing his arms.

Tom stared at the blueprints and rubbed his
chin. He had no idea what he was looking at and he prayed someone
would rescue him. Just then, another man waded into the fray.
“What’s going on, here?” he asked. Tom breathed a sigh of relief.
The man was a building inspector for the City of Minneapolis.

Sam pointed up at a long beam that sat above
them. “That’s the problem,” he said. “If we weren’t going up
another story, that single header would be fine. I know it ain’t
drawn up that way in the plans, but I think that header needs to be
doubled up.”

The inspector was tall and thin, a gaunt looking
man who might have been an undertaker in another life. He looked up
at the header in question and he pulled a tape measure from his
jacket pocket. He held the end out to Sam. “Hold this on that
edge,” he grunted.

Sam took the edge and placed it at where the
header met the top of the interior wall. The building inspector
pulled the tape down to the other end and he quickly shook his
head. “That man is right,” he said to the foreman. “And it’s a damn
good thing he caught that when he did. You need to double this
up.”

Tom thought the foreman was going to blow a
fuse, but he surprised Tom by walking over to Sam and clapping him
on the back. “Good eye, Sam,” he said. “Most guys don’t have the
seeds to stand up to me, but you do. I like that. You just saved us
a lot of time and money. I’ll be talking to the boss about
this.”

Sam smiled and shook the beefy man’s hand. “I
just call ‘em like I see ‘em. I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the
ass.”

The foreman smiled, revealing perhaps eight
teeth. He then checked his watch. “It’s seven O’clock,” he
bellowed. “The show is over. Quit loafing around and get to work.
Jackson, you and Sam get going on doubling up that header!”

Tom smiled as Sam gave him a quick wink. He was
proud of his relative and he couldn’t wait to share this story with
Shari. He followed the men out of the house and he returned to get
himself a doughnut. Sadly, the boxes were all empty.

Soon, the sounds of construction filled the air.
Tom stood back and watched in amazement at what appeared to be
total chaos. Men in hardhats poured over the house like ants on an
anthill. Every now and again, Chona would rush up to him and ask
for approval on a last minute change of plans. She was all business
and never smiled, but Tom respected her for taking on this
challenge.

On the opposite side of the street, people began
lining up behind the yellow tape. Trucks loaded with building
materials streamed up and down the street, unloaded by swiveling,
yellow forklifts that rode on tall tractor tires. Men on
scissor-lifts were already installing windows, while others
scrambled on top of the tall roof.

Shari sat at her desk and pounded away on her
keyboard. She had been given the go ahead to write the story and
she was busy recording the background. Like any good story, she
started from the very beginning, capturing the moment she and Tom
had first met. She smiled as she worked, frowning from time to
time, laughing at others. She was in her element and she loved
every minute of it. As she was writing about her initial meeting
with Chona, her desk phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw
that the call was from her financial advisor. She debated if she
should answer the call, she was in the groove and hated anything to
interrupt her, but she found that she was more curious as to why
Rick Wellman would call her. “Hello?”

“Shari,” asked Rick Wellman, the same financial
advisor her parents had used, the man responsible for doubling
their investment value. “Am I bothering you?”

“Not at all, Rick. What’s on your mind? I hope
everything is alright.”

“Everything is wonderful, Shari. That’s why I’m
calling. We just got a hot tip down here on a new company that is
making some big waves in cancer research. They’re about to go
public and everyone down here is in agreement that this stock is a
chance in a lifetime. I know how you like to play it safe, but I
really think we should jump on this thing. Just think about it,
okay? I will need your answer by the end of the day.”

Shari bit her lip. Normally, she would have
quietly thanked Rick and told him she wasn’t interested. She kept
her money invested in blue chip stocks, sure things, and while they
never leapt up in value, they had always proven to be a safe
investment. When Chona had given Shari an estimate at the total
cost of rebuilding Doris’ house, Shari had nearly choked on the
number. Though they could well afford it, the expenditure would put
a big dent in her savings. “How sure are you about this company?”
she asked.

“Between you and me and the fencepost,”
whispered Wellman, “I’m all in. I’m telling you, kiddo, this stock
is the real deal. I’d hate to see you miss out on it.”

Shari could feel her stomach twist into knots.
She stared blindly out of her office window, wondering what she
should do. Rick had never steered her wrong in the past, and as far
as she knew, had never given her parents a bad tip. She took a deep
breath. “I trust you, Rick,” she said. “Do whatever you think is
right.”

“Shari,” said Rick, “you’ll never regret this.
I’ll be in touch.”

Shari thanked him and they quickly said their
goodbyes. With her head spinning, Shari found it hard to get back
into her groove. Finally, she pushed Rick out of her thoughts and
was able to bring her story up to date. When she looked at her
clock, Shari was shocked to see that it was well past noon. She
dashed out of her office and down to the parking garage. She had
promised Tom that she would meet him for lunch and she hoped that
he hadn’t eaten without her. She was famished.

Doris slowly opened her eyes and found that her
body was riddled with pain. As she remembered what had happened,
her eyes came into focus and she could see a faint light glowing
from around the corner. How far had she fallen? Doris wasn’t sure,
but she must have tumbled a long way. She checked herself for
broken bones and was happy that everything appeared to be working.
She would have bumps and bruises, but she would be able to walk out
under her own power. Slowly, painfully, she hauled herself to her
feet. She groaned as great bells of pain rang in her ears. She gave
a brief thought about returning to the top of the stairs, but that
was all. She was in no shape to do any more exploring, not
today.

Doris took a tentative first step. Her knees
ached and felt sticky under the fabric of her sweat pants. She kept
moving and the light grew brighter. She groaned at every step, but
she didn’t stop until she reached the bottom. There, Doris stood
and stared at the black expanse that stood between her and the
light at the other end of the tunnel. Without the flashlight, she
would be as blind as a bat. She waited there, gathering her
courage, wondering if there would be enough to get her safely
across. She remembered how wet and slimy the floor of the tunnel
had been. This frightened her. One wrong step and she knew what
could happen. She might die down here.

At that moment, something clacked in the spiral
stairwell. The sound wasn’t particularly loud, but it had been loud
enough to echo in the enclosed space. Doris lifted her arms and
screamed. And then, for the first time in many years, Doris began
to run. With her mind frozen with fear, never giving a second
thought to what she was doing, Doris sprinted down the black tunnel
and ran toward the light. Her echoing footsteps only caused her to
run faster, as she imagined a bogeyman giving chase. She wanted to
scream, to moan, but somehow she knew that she didn’t have the
breath to spare.

She made it to the light at the opposite end,
but Doris didn’t stop there. She took the steps two at a time, her
breaths coming in ragged gasps. At the top of the stairs, Doris
yanked hard on the chain and she became nearly delirious as light
spilled in from the other side. As soon as she could fit through
the opening, Doris burst into the living room. She fell flat on her
face on the hardwood floor.

“
Ahh
,” she groaned, over and over,
gasping for air and praying her heart would slow down. She lay
there for a long time and eventually, Doris Picacello fell fast
asleep.

Chapter 7

“There you are,” said Tom, relieved to see his
new wife. “I was getting worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” said Shari, “I got caught up in my
work and time just slipped away from me. Have you eaten?”

Tom shook his head and gave Shari a quick kiss.
“I told you that I’d wait for you. When you didn’t show, I took the
liberty of running down to the deli. I hope you’re good with
that.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m absolutely
starving.”

Tom led Shari over to a green patch of lawn. A
large brown bag sat there along with two bottles of water. They
both plopped down on the grass and Tom opened up the bag. They ate
hungrily, pausing to talk only a few times before they finished
their meal. Tom told Shari about what he had walked into,
explaining how Sam had held his ground with the foreman. “He was
right,” he said. “The inspector backed him up and they doubled that
header thing. The foreman thanked Sam and even said that he would
talk to his boss about what Sam had done.”

Shari smiled broadly and she gave Tom a kiss.
“That settles it,” she said. “He is not sleeping under some bridge,
I just won’t have it. Tonight, Sam is coming home with us. One of
us has to be out here, anyhow. We can drive him back and forth and
I won’t hear another word about it.”

“I’m glad you said that. I was about to say the
same thing.”

“I love you, Tom.”

“And I love you, too.”

They sat and watched the men as they worked.
Teams were busy hanging the siding and the roofers were already
hard at work. The air was filled with banging and clanging and the
sound of men giving orders.

And at that moment, Tom and Shari couldn’t have
been happier.

They didn’t arrive back home until nearly 8:00
that evening. Initially, Sam had refused Tom’s offer and it had
taken a few minutes to persuade him to spend the night with them.
Tom could see that despite his past, Sam Calizzi was still a proud
man and unaccustomed to charity. Too tired to cook, they stopped on
the way and picked up a chicken dinner to go.

Doris, who was now wide awake after sleeping
most of the day, was lying on the sofa when they walked through the
door. An hour earlier, she had been wearing a long sleeve blouse
over black slacks to hide most of her injuries, but she had changed
into a red tank top and blue jeans. Her knees and elbows were
heavily wrapped in gauze and she wore an Ace bandage around her
forehead. “Ma,” exclaimed Tom, as he rushed to her side and fell to
his knees, “what happened to you?”

Slowly, Doris put her hand to her head. Her eyes
were half open and her mouth hung slightly open. “I fell, Tommy,”
she stammered. She then groaned a little. “But don’t you worry
about me, I’ll be okay.”

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor,” said
Shari, tossing their dinner onto the table and rushing over to
stand next to Tom. “Where did you fall? Do you think anything is
broken?”

“I just said I would be okay,” snapped Doris,
with a lot more force than she had intended. “Nothing is broken,
not that anyone cares.”

Sam took off his boots and walked into the
living room. He wore a 70’s era blue jean vest over a white t-shirt
and faded jeans. He stared at his cousin for a long moment. “You
sure got scraped up,” he said. “Where did you say you fell?”

“What is this,” growled Doris, “twenty
questions? I didn’t say where I fell. Not that it’s any of your
business, but I was outside on the steps when I fell. Don’t you
have a parole officer to check in with, or something?”

Sam looked over his shoulder at the front door.
“Yeah,” he said, “you did all that falling down three steps, huh?
That’s too bad. Are you hungry? Shari picked up some chicken at the
deli.”

Doris could smell the chicken and truth be told,
she was starving. Still, this was her moment and she intended to
milk it for all it was worth. “Tommy, I don’t think I could hold a
fork,” she said, grimacing as she lifted her hand off of her
forehead. “Would it be too much to ask to help me eat?”

“Not at all, Ma. I’ll go and fix you a
plate.”

“Take out, again. Doesn’t your wife ever
cook?”

Sam and Shari exchanged a look and they followed
Tom into the kitchen. Sam went to the sink and washed his hands
with dish soap, while Tom began cutting up bite-sized pieces of
chicken breast. Shari went straight for the wine rack. “Doesn’t
your wife ever cook?” she whispered, sarcastically. “I can’t wait
to see the look on her face when she finds out where we’ve
been.”