Chapter 17

The garage isn’t a place to store cars ... the garage has wonderous things.

Like: Knee mills, Bridgeport, commercial 32” planer, two table saws, wood lathe, metal lathe, two bandsaws, grinders, polishers ... stuff he didn’t know what for or how to use. It was there when he bought the place and its condition offended him. Twenty years of spiff had produced working tools he didn’t know how to use but they were pretty.

Learning how to keep a blade on the bandsaw took a week. He was still working on the guides.

One whole bay was assorted wood that he had no idea but knew it was banned, outlawed, proscribed or beyond rare. Showing up with a piece of some of it was a sure way to meet the local federal alphabet. He was also sure that “I don’t know” wouldn’t keep him out of jail.

The elephant tusks would insure that.

Marion suddenly knew what he meant by ‘keep a secret.’ This was similar to knowing the secret tunnel to Fort Knox ... or having found the Lost Dutchman mine ... twenty four thousand ounces of gold per ton of rock ... and couldn’t tell anyone or mine an ounce. The origin of gold ore can be sourced.

Mums the word, Marion.

She hiked her Santa Fe kit on to the bench. She immediately started reading the directions. What is in the box was first.

There was a spotless white patch and she put her parts on the white arranging them exactly like the photo of the parts. If the directions said ‘four small screws’ she found four small screws or hunted the cracks until she found four ... THEN and only then ... did she move on to the next part.

As she found and placed each part then did she check the box in the list. Laid out as per illustration she read on.

Check for discrepancies

Marion had a loupe in her purse.

That took some time.

Satisfied ... or not ... step three was: Check for fit.

By the time she was there, he had run the plank through the planer and jointer. Square on four sides, the ends were sent through the crosscut table saw. The lines taken off the halfstock .53 caliber J&S Hawken had been sketched on the plank, finalized, and run through the bandsaw. He had the barrel channel laid out, chisels sharpened and the first router roughcut done.

A car crunched its way down the drive.

Marion never noticed.

The garage door opened...”Delivery!”

Marion never noticed.

“Hi David ... who is this?” Recognition. “Marion?” “The Librarian?” “Gosh David, she’s pretty. Who knew?”

Marion never noticed.

“What’s she doing?”

“Building a rifle.”

“Really ... Marion ... a rifle?”

Marion never noticed.

Pizza, a standing order, delivered and steaming on the bench, David and the delivery girl were discussing Marion’s obsessive determination when the smell of cooked food interrupted her train of thought.

She snatched a piece of Supreme with her right hand, transferred it to her left, fit a wedge escutcheon in the precut hole in the stock forearm with her right hand and bit off a piece of pie.

“Oh ... so good ... Supreme ... mmm ... just like I like it.”

A quandry ... the need to eat, fit a screw, check the instructions and find the next screw. A juggle of the mind. What to do? What do do? she swallowed ... took another bite. The only clean spot on the bench was covered with her parts.

Just in time, David took the bitten slice from her hand. She fit the screw, took the pizza, bit and handed the piece to David. And fit another screw. Putting the bitten slice in the pizza box David set the box of Supreme on top of the Uberti box. When Marion reached for the bitten piece David redirected her seek to the box on the box.

“Ah ... thank you.”

She looked around, “Drink?”

A two quart Dr. Wells was offered ... and a red cup. She poured, drank and was right back to it.

About midnight, David took her screwdriver, picked her up and took her to bed ... it was snowing. The moon was full, the snow glistened on the starkly black silhouette of the cottonwood trees. The snow creaked as David cuddle-carried. Three inches and snowing ... it would last a week ... the plow was three days away.

Marion, the Librarian, ran out of pills.