The Bricklayer by Serena Yates

Author:Serena Yates [Yates, Serena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-04-01T04:00:00+00:00

MIKE HAD not looked forward to Monday morning, and as soon as he made his way out of the car just before seven, his fears were confirmed. The construction site, a huge plot of land, had the house’s cement foundation already poured. About ten men in hard hats, coveralls, and steel-toed safety boots ran around the site like chickens without heads. Wooden planks were going one way, then the other; pallets with bricks sat to the side, completely ignored; and a couple of men seemed intent on distributing tool kits to everyone, also to be ignored.

A five-year-old could have done a better job organizing this. And where was Will Stevenson, supposedly the man in charge? Mike looked around but couldn’t find him anywhere. Finally a medium-size trailer sitting close to the road drew his attention. It had a wooden sign on a pole rammed into the ground saying “Site Office” in big red hand-painted letters. Maybe he should check it out.

“Will?” Mike knocked on the trailer’s door.

Nothing.

Mike knocked again, and this time a growling sound emanated from the interior. He decided it was a signal to go inside.

As soon as he opened the door, the smell of alcohol fumes and human vomit assaulted his nose and he almost backed straight out of the trailer.

“What the fuck?” Mike squinted into the dim interior and took a few steps inside so he could see better. Why wasn’t the light switched on? Filing cabinets sat along two of the walls, a large table to the left was covered in blueprints, and a small desk sat to the right.

Draped half over it was Will Stevenson, his wide frame in a coverall and his hard hat lying uselessly on the desk. He was moaning as if he were dying and holding himself hunched over a metal waste bin.

“Shit!” Mike did not like the look of that.

Will looked up and his eyes widened. “Mike?”

“Yeah.” Mike had no clue what to say or do. He knew Will liked his beer, but to be this hungover at seven in the morning?

“Didn’t expect you yet.” Will hiccupped and Mike got ready to bolt. He was not going to stand here watching his temporary boss puke whatever was left in his stomach into a bin. “I don’t feel so good.”

“No kidding.” Mike shook his head. What the hell was he supposed to do?

“I think it was something I ate.” Will coughed and turned a little greener.

“Something you ate?” Mike stepped back, just in case the guy decided to upchuck again. “Don’t you mean drank?”

“Nah.” Will moved his hand and pointed at a bottle of whiskey on the desk. “Just had some of that thinking I could kill whatever bacteria had taken hold in my stomach. Didn’t work at all.”

“Kill the bacteria….” Mike had a hard time stopping himself from laughing out loud. Alcohol had many useful, even medicinal, properties, but killing bacteria once food poisoning had taken hold was not one of them. At least not as far as he knew.

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