The Angel of Montague Street by Norman Green

Author:Norman Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-04-04T04:00:00+00:00

SIX

“WE OUGHTA HAVE A GUN.”

I got one, Silvano thought, feeling lucky that no one had made him for it. Thank God for bell bottoms, this would never fly with those peg leg jeans he’d grown up wearing, and still, the gun made a bigger bulge under his pant leg than he wanted it to. It was not the kind of gun the carpenter was talking about.

“A nailer,” the guy continued. “You know, pneumatic. We’d be done in no time.” They were installing subflooring made of four-by-eight sheets of compressed wood shavings and glue. They’d spent the first two hours laying it out, cutting and fitting pieces to fit the odd shapes of the room, securing each one with two or three nails, and now it was time to finish the job. “You want the nails on a six-inch square.” The guy was on his knees with a nail bag around his waist and a heavy framer’s hammer in his hand, and he kept up a steady rhythm with the hammer while he talked. He hit each nail three times, no more, no less, one whack to set the nail in place, one to drive it most of the way in, one to send it home. Silvano watched his hands, particularly the left one. The guy had a handful of flooring nails in it, and he would finger out the nails one at a time, spin the pointed end down, and position the nail on the wood, all without looking, without varying the steady pace of the hammer unless he had to shift to a new spot or grab another handful of nails.

“Damn,” Silvano said. “I feel like I oughta just stay the hell out of your way.”

“Ain’t nothing to it. Why don’t you start over there in the closet. You gotta go slower in the closet, anyhow. On six-inch squares. Get it?”

“Yeah,” Silvano said. “I get it.” His mind had been occupied with fruitless speculations about Noonie, Special Ed, and the Dutchman. He found now, however, that he needed to concentrate, because whenever his mind wandered, he would hit his left hand with the hammer.

“Ow! Shit!”

The carpenter got up and came over to watch. “Don’t choke up on the hammer,” he said, looking over Silvano’s shoulder. “Hold it down at the end. Yeah, like that. Okay, now just tap the nail in so that it’s set in place. Now move your hand out the way. Okay, now hit the fucking thing, no, don’t look at the hammer, keep your eye on the head of the nail, and just whack it. There you go, that’s better. Don’t try to kill it, just let the hammer drive the nail. Yeah, there. That’s more like it.”

He improved, somewhat, with practice. After a couple more whacks on his left hand, he managed to put all thoughts about Noonie, Special Ed, and the rest of it out of his mind and did what the guy told him, set the nail, feel for the next one

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