Village Squire, 1973-05, Page 8"Oh, I don't know. You pick the craziest friends."
I didn't bother to explain that I 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
a MN to fix the stove. Max is going to do it."
If I hadn't been so absorbed in my work I might have realized
how dangerous the situation was instead of just mumbling
"That's 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?"
8
DIVE
DIVE
DIVE
DIVE
INTO A
bexamtP00L
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 h: 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."
We went our separate ways again after dinner. He kept
working without any luck. I kept filling the waste basket with
wasted ideas. The kids, thankfully, had gone for a hike back
through my rockpiles, except for the youngest one who was
playing in a playpen out back.
About two -thirty my wife came begging. "Tony, you've
GOT to do something. He's been working for hours and he's
only managed to find out that it was plugged in."
So, I shut off the typewriter and went out to the kitchen to
see what was the matter. It took me fifteen minutes to sort
through the various parts he had removed from the stove. Then
I found the loose wire that had caused the whole problem. It
took another hour to put the stove back together.
I went back to work.
"Now to see what's wrong with that refrigerator" said Max.
"Oh no, you're a guest. I can't have you working," pleaded
Marion. But neither she or Max's wife could win.
"Got to do something to earn my keep" Max joked.
It was five -thirty this time when Marion crept into the study
on bended knee to ask me to come out and get things back to
normal so she could start supper. This time it took me only
ten minutes to find out what was wrong. I was getting practice
by now at sorting out disasters. It was a faulty relay switch and
Max went into town to get a new one while I put the rest of it
back together. By the time Marion had the supper ready I had
repaired the damage and the refrigerator purred -like a sewing
machine instead of an air hammer.
Max's wife went to call the children far supper. She was
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