The Skeleton & The Carpenter

Adventure? Check.

        The next day, Roger's sixteenth birthday, began like any other day. The skeleton reported to work bright and early and, with the exception of the birthday cake shaped like a circular saw Hardware Guy presented him with, the two carried on business as usual. It was when Roger returned home after work that the day really got interesting.

The sun shone warmly on Roger's back as he walked home from Hardware Guy's workshop. The birds chirped merrily and air smelled like flowers and freshly cut grass. Roger whistled a song that had been stuck in his head all day, even though he could not tell what song it was. There was a pronounced spring in his step as he reached the small cottage that he and his mother called home, stopping at the mailbox to collect any letters that had come. This was part of the daily homecoming ritual – flipping through the mail to look for letters addressed to him, even though they never were. So, in keeping with tradition, he flipped. Addressed to his mom. Addressed to his mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Roger. Mom.

Wait, did that say what I think it said? Roger thought, his heartbeat picking up. He quickly flipped back to find that the envelope was, indeed, addressed to him. Seeing that the return address was in the Fire Islands, Roger tore the envelope open, yanked the letter out, and quickly unfolded it.

Dear Roger,

How is life back in The Seaside? Staying out of trouble, I trust? The Fire Islands are as beautiful as ever. I cannot imagine how I ever lived anywhere else.

The reason I'm writing is to correct a great injustice I have done you. You were in my employ for ten years and never received a cent of payment. How scandalous! As you may remember, I was legally bound from paying you because the The Seaside's passé lawmakers frown upon the hiring of children. You may further remember that the age at which one can be legally employed in The Seaside is sixteen years. Correct me if I am wrong, but is today not your sixteenth birthday? Happy Birthday, my dear boy! During those ten years of faithful employment, I kept track of every single hour, minute, and second that you were working. You will find enclosed a cheque of payment for all of that hard work (plus a little extra, as a gift in celebration of your birthday). I trust you will do something substantial with this money – after all, it is no secret that you are bound for great things.

Give your mother my best, and have a wonderful birthday!

Sincerely,
Cosmé

Roger held the torn envelope upside down and, sure enough, a check floated out of it into his waiting hand. The amount that the check was written for was larger than any sum of money Roger had ever seen in his entire life.

Ten minutes later, Roger's mother came outside to see why her son had not come into the house yet; she had heard him whistling and heard the mailbox open, so she knew he had not been running late at work.

"Roger, honey, what's the hold up?" she asked, before noticing that the skeleton was nowhere to be found.

****

"HARDWARE GUY! OPEN THE DOOR, IT'S ME!" Roger screamed, banging on the door to the workshop. After yelling at the top of his lungs and sprinting all the way from his house to the shop, he found himself red in face and short of breath.

"What's the heck is goin' on out here? Somethin' wrong, Rog?" Hardware Guy asked, concerned, as he opened the door.

In reply, Roger, breathing deeply to catch his breath, simply smiled and held up the check from Cosmé. Hardware Guy looked at the check and returned his friend's goofy smile with a questioning stare.

"This should more than cover that Wood Wizards entrance fee. In fact, there's so much money here that I think you could afford to close down the old woodshop – for a couple of days, anyhow – to join me for an adventure to Hamsford. Oughta cover our gas money, too." Roger said, still catching his breath.

Before rolling his eyes and dismissing Roger's adventure invitation, as usual, Hardware Guy took another look at the check. His mouth fell agape when he realized how much money the check was written out for; it was more money than his entire woodworking business was worth. And, the more the thought about it, entering the Tri-County Wood Wizards Contests did sound like a lot of fun.

"Listen Rog, we can't be gone for more'n a week. That's the one and only condition I've gotta ask if we're gonna do this. I can't afford to lose any more business than that, okay?" Hardware Guy bargained.

"One more condition." Roger said. "You're not allowed to trim or shave that wonderful mustache of yours the whole time we're gone."

Hardware Guy thought long and hard before answering, "You've got a deal, Rog."