The Rural Voice, 1977-11, Page 28117'11
1[A3
1 didr't bother to explain that 1 hadn't picked Max, he just
came to me like a toothache.
But the next morning Marion's opinion of Max seemed to
change. After breakfast I had gone back to my study and shut the
door. Even then it wasn't too peaceful because the kids were
playing outside my window. Marion was left with Max and his
wife. Apparently the refrigerator started acting up while they
were still sitting in the kitchen. Marion explained that it wasn't
working right and Max's eyes lit up. When she mentioned that
the stove was on the fritz too he broke into one of his Cheshire cat
imitations.
"Maybe I can help" he offered. "I should know a LITTLE
about electronics." He laughed loudly at his own joke. "After all
it can't be as hard as a computer."
"Now Max," his wife tried to intercede. "I don't know if
you..."
Marion. delighted with the prospect that she might get some
of her work done, interrupted. "Why of course, if you don't
mind. Tony just hasn't been able to find the time to fix the oven
and I'm just about going nuts. There are some tools in the
basement."
She. of course, just couldn't resist needling me a little so she
poked her head in the study door. "Don't worry dear. I've got a
man to fix the stove. Max is going to do it."
If 1 hadn't been so absorbed in my work I might have realized
how dangerous the situation was instead of just mumbling "That
is wonderful dear."
It was ten minutes later when I heard the scream of pain and
the lights blinked off and my electric typewriter went as dead as
a pancake left over from last night's supper. I rushed into the
kitchen and there was Max, sitting on the floor shaking his head
from side to side as if he had just been hit by a three -ton truck
and was checking to see if his neck was still connected. He held a
screwdriver limply in one hand. I knew in a minute what had
happened.
"The power block for the stove is down in the basement" I
said as I helped him back to his feet. "Let's go down and pull
that out before you go back to work. Are you okay?"
He was. He hadn't really gotten much of a jolt, just enough to
make him scream bloody murder and to blow half the fuses in the
house's archaic wiring system.
His wife tried to stop him from going back to work but that
Irish in Max wouldn't let him quit just because he had had a
minor setback. I found a new fuse and went back to work.
For dinner we had coldcuts again. Max had the stove spread
all over the kitchen floor.
"This is a tricky stove you've got here," he said after dinner.
"I've been working at it for hours and I just can't put my finger
on the trouble."
Saceenshot
The illness you'll never see
coming. Get in shape—and
don't give the enemy
a big target.
Fitness is fun.
Try some. PrJ/T/C/Pc7CT/O17
28. THE RURAL VOICE/NOVEMBER 1977.
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