Nobody's Sorry You're Dead

41

"Hey, Sandy," Ruth said. "Heard about Eustian spreading dirt on you. That old coot's a trip. You must be pretty upset. That man is talking all over town about how you took stuff out of his barn."

"Yeah," Sandy said. "Eustian's got a mouth on him that goes nonstop."

"And what he spreads is ugly and rotten like really bad diarrhea," Ruth said.

"Well," Sandy said, "I never heard it put quite like that before, but I really don't think that man's ever seen a sunny day in his life. He likes nothing better than to bad mouth everything and everybody. I've had a couple guys come into the shop telling me some of the stuff he's saying. He's got a great imagination if nothing else."

"Yeah," said Ruth, "and it lives in the sewer. Nobody thinks you took anything from him, Sandy. Eustian just loves throwing rotten apples at everybody."

Sandy was at his table at the Saturday flea market. The metal shop took up a lot of his time, but in his spare time, he made and plated jewelry and coins. He was a regular at the weekly flea market held in the parking lot of Pixie-Squares.

Ruth sat down in the empty chair next to him.

"You know," Ruth said, "I've been wondering if a small shop set up in the John James' old photography studio building wouldn't be a good way to advertise the work of the wildlife shelter."

"What do you mean? Hey, Richie. Where's your mom?" Sandy said.

"She's over there haggling with Jewel over some potted plants," said Richie.

Rayna walked up behind Richie.

"I heard that, Mister. How many times have I told you, son," Rayna said, "I don't haggle. I bargain."

"I'm going over to check out some tools I spotted at Woody's table," said Richie.

"I hitched a ride with Richie, this morning," Rayna said. "He's totally under-whelmed that he's here with his mama. I like to come near the end of the market. You can get your best deals that way. Richie likes to come in the morning. He's pouting, I guess. Says all the good stuff is gone, by now."

"Poor baby," Ruth said. "He'll get over it."

They all laughed.

"What do you have in mind," Sandy said after Rayna left. "This shop idea, I mean."

"Oh, I don't know. It's still in the planning stages," said Ruth. "But since John closed down his studio, his little building has just stood vacant. You know I run the shelter on a shoe-string budget and donations. If it wasn't for the volunteers, I couldn't operate. I'm so thankful for the help everyone gives.

If John would agree, I'd like to set up something that would advertise the shelter. You know, try to get the word out to even more people. I'd like to set it up on a permanent basis, but we'll have to see. At first, I'd thought of a little shop, but that idea would involve capital.

Lately, I've been toying with the idea of setting up a space that showcases the artisans and craftsmen of the area. We have so many skilled people, like yourself, who make so many wonderful things. Like your crafts. There is such a large pool of talent, here."

Ruth's face suddenly lit up.

"What if we set up the space to showcase artists," she said, "just to get traffic into the shop, and then, educate folks about the work we do at the wildlife rescue?"

"That's a great idea," Sandy said. "You know, you might have musicians drop in, say on Sunday afternoons for added flavor. There's plenty of good folks you could ask. Banjos, guitars, fiddles. They make sweet music. I know several families and groups that gather and jam just for the fun of it. You might ask several of them if they'd like to donate their time and talent to a worthy cause. Would get you good publicity, and them, too."

"I hadn't thought of that. That's a wonderful idea," said Ruth. "You're good friends with John. I was wondering if you might test the waters with him. See how he feels. If he agrees, we could have the folks who wanted to participate and showcase their crafts pay a small percentage to the cause. That way the electricity bill and water could be paid."

"I'm in," said Sandy. "I'll talk to him, and let you know. He loves what you're doing out at the shelter. I'm sure he'd agree, but I'll call you after we talk."

"Thanks, Sandy," Ruth said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "You're a good friend."