Roadwork - Stephen King [110]
January 18, 1974
The secretary's voice said: "Who shall I say is calling?"
"Bart Dawes."
"Will you hold for a moment?"
"Sure."
She put him in limbo and he held the blank receiver to his ear, tapping his foot and looking out the window at the ghost town of Crestallen Street West. It was a bright day but very cold, temperature about 10 above with a chill factor making it 10 below. The wind blew skirls of snow across the street to where the Hobarts' house stood broodingly silent, just a shell waiting for the wrecking ball. They had even taken their shutters.
There was a click and Steve Ordner's voice said: "Bart, how are you?"
"Fine. "
"What can I do for you?"
"I called about the laundry," he said. "I wondered what the corporation had decided to do about relocation."
Ordner sighed and then said with good-humored reserve: "A little late for that, isn't it?"
"I didn't call to be beaten with it, Steve. "
"Why not? You've surely beaten everyone else with it. Well, never mind. The board has decided to get out of the industrial laundry business, Bart. The Laundromats will stay; they're all doing well. We're going to change the chain name, though. To Handi-Wash. How does that sound?"
"Terrible," he said remotely. "Why don't you sack Vinnie Mason?"
"Vinnie?" Ordner sounded surprised. "Vinnie's doing a great job for us. Turning into quite the mogul. I must say I didn't expect such bitterness-'
"Come on, Steve. That job's got no more future than a tenement airshaft. Give him something worthwhile or let him out. "
"I handy think that's your business, Bart. "
"You've got a dead chicken tied around his neck and he doesn't know it yet because it hasn't started to rot. He still thinks it's dinner."
"I understand he punched you up a little before Christmas. "
"I told him the truth and he didn't like it. "
"Truth's a slippery word, Bart. I would think you'd understand that better than anyone, after all the lies you told me.
"That still bugs you, doesn't it?"
"When you discover that a man you thought was a good man is full of shit, it does tend to bug one, yes."
"Bug one," he repeated. "Do you know something, Steve? You're the only person I've ever known in my life that would say that. Bug one. It sounds like something that comes in a fucking aerosol can."
"Was there anything else, Bart?"
"No, not really. I wish you'd stop beating Vinnie, that's all. He's a good man. You're wasting him. And you know goddam well you're wasting him."
"I repeat: why would I want to 'beat' Vinnie?"
"Because you can't get to me."
"You're getting paranoid, Bart. I've got no desire to do anything to you but forget you."
"Is that why you were checking to see if I ever had personal laundry done free? Or took kickbacks from the motels? I understand you even took the petty cash vouchers for the last five years or so."
"Who told you that?" Ordner barked. He sounded startled, off balance.
"Somebody in your organization," he lied joyfully. "Someone who doesn't like you much. Someone who thought I might be able to get the ball rolling a little in time for the next director's meeting."
"Who?"
"Good-bye, Steve. You think about Vinnie Mason, and I'll think about who I might or might not talk to."
"Don't you hang up on me! Don't you-"
He hung up, grinning. Even Steve Ordner had the proverbial feet of clay. Who was it Steve reminded him of? Ball bearings. Strawberry ice cream stolen from the food locker. Herman Wouk. Captain Queeg, that was it. Humphrey Bogart had played him in the movie. He laughed aloud and sang:
"We all need someone to Queeg on,
And if you want to, why don'tcha Queeg all over me?"
I'm crazy all right, he thought, still laughing. But it does seem there are certain advantages. It came to him that one of the surest signs of insanity was a man all alone, laughing in the middle of silence, on an empty street filled with empty houses. But the thought could not still his humor and he laughed louder, standing