The Waterproof Bible by Andrew Kaufman

Author:Andrew Kaufman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2009-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

17

Margaret’s reasons

It was after one in the morning when Margaret, while climbing off the sailboat, saw two sets of headlights driving up the laneway to the Prairie Embassy Hotel. She stepped off the ladder and watched the cars park. Stewart had already started to dial Rebecca’s number, but he closed his cellphone to watch. Each car held only the driver. Both were men. They got out of their vehicles and walked directly to the hotel.

“Who could that be?”

“The rainmakers,” Margaret said. “I forgot all about them.”

Putting the phone in his pocket, Stewart began climbing down the ladder, but Margaret waved him back. “No, no,” she said. “Call her. She must really need you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean, can you? Do you remember how to check someone in?”

“It’s still my hotel.”

“Okay. Okay,” Stewart said.

Margaret watched him begin to dial, then turned and walked to the hotel. She was very sleepy – Stewart’s cellphone had been ringing all night, keeping her up, but even a rested Margaret would have found the two men in her lobby odd. They stood so close together at the front desk that their elbows almost touched, but neither acknowledged the other’s presence. One was slightly taller and younger, but in every other way they seemed extraordinarily similar – each was dressed in black from head to toe, carried a worn brown leather suitcase and had dark eyes and prominent cheekbones.

Margaret was so sleepy that she contemplated the possibility that they were the same person, the one on the right simply twenty years further into their shared lifespan. She moved to stand behind the front desk and looked at them again. This time she concluded that they were father and son, which explained both the resemblance and the lack of communication.

“Um, hi,” Margaret said. “Can I help you?”

“The mayor’s office said they’d arranged things,” said the older one.

“I was told thiat the Morris Town Council had made reservations,” said the younger.

“So you are the rainmakers?”

“Yes.”

“I am.”

“Yes, then, well, we’ll have to get you registered,” Margaret said.

It had been three years since Margaret had registered a guest at the Prairie Embassy Hotel. However infrequently it needed to be done, the job was usually Stewart’s. But figuring there couldn’t be that much to it, Margaret began looking for the registry book. It took some minutes, as the desk was a mess. She had to search beneath inches of newspapers, half-open face-down books and rolls of nautical blueprints before she found it. She presented it to the men, each of whom reached into his breast pocket to pull out a pen. The younger one signed first, but he had to reach around the older one, who remained standing where he was. After both men had signed, Margaret turned the book around and read the names.

Anderson Richardson

Kenneth Richardson

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