Tyche
Copyright© 2020 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 70
“Saw?”
“Yeah,” he said. “The kit comes with 20 f00t balks of cedar ... you cut your own strips. The thinner the saw blade the more strips per balk. I had my blades made from twenty thousandths shim stock. The same stock they make quality handsaws from.”
Alice said, “Build my own? Tyche, do we have enough time? School starts in a week. How long from order to ship? Where does it ship from?” And she continued in the same vein, her voice raising in pitch and volume until she squeaked ... and stopped. She looked horrified. She cleared her throat ... several times ... hummed for pitch ... and sang, “Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do” Hemmed, cleared her throat again. “Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do” by half steps up and down ... grinned at the attention and said, “I’d rather just buy.
“Bud ... where can I buy a decent kayak?”
“That’s quite the voice, Alice,” he said. “Training?”
“Thank you,” Alice said, “Mother ... and Massimiliano, my voice instructor ... and Italy, three summers, while the family explored the Med ... the rats. I’m not supposed to sing in public until my debut in Rome.
“Tyche, don’t look so shocked. I’m just me.”
“Debut?” I asked, “In Rome?”
“Orchestra I Virtuosi dell’opera di Roma, it’s kind of small but it is a start.”
“When?”
“Christmas.”
“This year?”
“Uh huh.”
“What?”
“Umh ... The Barber of Seville.”
“Who do you play?”
“Berta.”
“It’s in Italian.”
“Yes ... it’s a pain in the ass too.”
“You speak Italian?”
“No ... I sing it. Can’t speak a word.”
“Alice ... you’re just plain weird.” I said.
“Me? What about you ... Miss Warbird Pilot.”
Bud ... and Two were watching us like a tennis audience.
Beep
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