The Drip, a novel by Michael Gullo
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You’re calling earlier and earlier every day.”
“The boys are lined up, and they’re at it. I’m about to visit the throne for the inaugural runs…”
“You’re so gross.”
“Holy Christ! The raccoons beat me to it. Hang on I gotta get picture of this.”
“The raccoons shit in your toilet?”
“Hang on.”
“If you send me a picture of raccoon shit, I’m calling someone.”
“Sent. So, the boys are started. I got some side business here, and then to the shed for my first office morning since November. I have a place to work, Stefanie. It’s not open air field hospital anymore.”
“Awww, look at their little muddy paw prints. I can see them now, ‘what the hell’s this thing, Lenny?’ ‘This guy built us a food washing station, George.’”
“I see it. But I need paper towels on the list for sure.”
“Yeah you do. They staged a whole play in there last night.”
“So, the tube arrived this morning.”
“Tube?”
“Yup, the house plans we ordered came in the mail, thrown in the driveway because they didn’t fit in the mailbox, and I can’t wait to roll them out. Next order of business for me is slap down some plywood and dash out a table. Then I gotta run the cold call list of contractors.”
“Is it time for that?”
“Got plans. Got septic permits. You won’t beg Mike Maddron, so I gotta get moving. I also need to find someone to shotcrete that bench wall at the workshop seat.”
“Is that done?”
“Almost. Then I need culvert pipes for the spillway. The dam looks awesome repaired. I didn’t realize just how big and deep that washout was. It had literally washed out a hole in the back side all the way to the foot of the thing.”
“Is it going to collapse?”
“It would have within a few years for sure. We put dump trucks worth of spoils in there so far. When we move the spill pipe, it’s all set.”
“Why did you take out another five-hundred this morning?”
“Are you auditing me?”
“No, Michael. SARs reports are a real thing. If you show up in our files, I got answers to give.”
“You’re a state tax investigator, Stef.”
“Phil’s desk, Michael.”
“Some stuff just takes cash.”
“Fine, keep notes.”
“I don’t have to. The invoices tell me what happened every day. If anyone ever asks, I cross reference the withdrawals with the day’s tasks, and I’ve got the answer.”
“What’s today’s flavor?”
“I took out cash so Tanner can buy a tool every time he goes to Lowes.”
“What’s that about?”
“He can’t list it as their company asset if they bought it on my credit card.”
“That’s definitely tax evasion.”
“No, Stef. Tools are not deductible. It’s Laddering. Literally. I’ll have him buy a ladder.”
“You’re not funny.”
“All set, bossman.”
“Hey, Cody. Didn’t see you come up. Grease the machines. I’ll be over in a minute.”
“I gotta go anyway. Keep notes, Michael.”
“Love you.”
“You better.”
“So cute.”
“Shutup, Rusty. Cody, did you get set up with that computer last night?”
“Tanner drop it off, but Lonnie got it first, and he drop it, first thing. Screen’s broke.”
“Hell. It’s Tuesday, buddy. You gotta get me the invoices so I can make the deposit, and the bank can pay you Friday.”
“You can just pay cash. I’m sure nobody’d mind.”
“It’s not that simple, Cody. If we skip a week of payroll at the bank, the whole thing’s off schedule again, and we gotta get back on track.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, sorry matters. Accidents happen though. You gotta tell me this stuff though so I can get on top of it.”
“It’s not your responsibility. Company’s our’n.”
“Okay, did you tell Tanner?”
“I forgot.”
“So no call last night, let someone know. Forgot this morning. It’s a good thing I was being social with you, or I wouldn’t have time to drop everything on my schedule for a Walmart trip and spend what’s left of my day with Tanner setting the whole thing back up on the new computer.”
“You could just pay cash this week.”
“Cody --- Just get in the machine.”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You again? I thought I blocked your number.”
“That’s the only account in my name. You need my permission to block my number.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Yeah, I’m distracted.”
“Is that Hummer I hear in the background?”
“It’s silent, honey.”
“Not when the smoking window’s open.”
“Do you miss anything?”
“Nope. And that most recent five-hundred dollar withdrawal, this time at Region’s on Chapman Highway, together with your voice, and my confusion expecting you to call claiming my office space now that you see it on the plans, and I figure something’s up.”
“Lonnie dropped the computer last night. Broke the screen. I needed to go get a new one fast so they can submit payroll and get paid on Friday.”
“Michael. You paid cash for yesterday’s computer. They have a receipt for a computer. Who cares if you have to replace a hundred of them, you don’t need to use cash every time.”
“Oh, Christ! This one got me in the busy’s. I was sparking on all anodes, big plans to try out the toilet, and this shit came up instead.”
“Did you at least get the paper towels?”
“Shit!”
“Tanner. I forgot to sign out, but I’m not the only culprit in your day’s-got-predicaments-pedagogy.”
“What - - - pedagogy. A new one. Let’s have it.”
“The science of teaching.”
“Then wouldn’t that be your word, and mine be course or lesson?”
“I’m struck out over here. Three conversations, and I’m asswhooped in growing waves.”
“Is that a new laptop?”
“Well, that’s my life raft and your anchor. You dropped off the computer last night, right?”
“Yup, Cody and Meghan were at Seymour Grill with the baby, so I gave it to Lonnie.”
“Well, the chain of custody fumbled. Lonnie somehow broke the screen before Cody ever got it.”
“And he told you, not me?”
“He didn’t tell anyone actually. I was about to teach him how to do invoices with details so I can find the facts later, and dude tells me, almost as a synaptic misfire. Like he meant to say something totally different – which I suspect is that he wants cash pay because I remember discussing this whole system in front of him, and he said twice that I could just pay cash Friday.”
“So set the computer up to get paid Friday.”
“And top side limit of three complaints throughout. I’m full up, and one gripe too many blows the dam.”
“Fair enough.”
“Start with this week’s hours. There is one rule in business; don’t you ever break it. Man gets paid on payday. I don’t care if you have to hock your C-Pap, you get to hocking and pay on payday.”
“My old boss…”
“Brother. I’ve heard it all. One rule. Bar none. Man works, man gets paid. Period. Old boss, new boss, same as the old boss, don’t matter to me. You, boss, pay on payday. Now what were you going to say?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“What can I do to earn that money?”
“Hey, Devin, where’d you come from?”
“I was helping the guys – had me hold the measuring stick thing.”
“They were shooting grade?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“They got a bead on it?”
“Sounds like. Said something about seven inches and told me to come over here.”
“Half a foot from grade. That was quick. Tanner. Take this phone number. It’s a shotcrete guy I found on Facebook. Do not let me forget to have Stef call him today - - on second thought, give me that now. I’m calling. Get Devin set up where you left off in here.”
“Do you want payroll finished?”
“I’ll have both. That’s how it goes. I bark, you deliver the package.”