Franklin wiped his forehead with a rag, resting the piece of scorched
wood he was carrying on the ground. Rich jogged past, and paused,
grinning. "Too much for you, Franklin?"
He threw the rag at Rich. "Never, m'boy."
"Come on, then." Franklin followed him down the path, carrying his
piece of wall for the new bar. It was the first building Nate wanted
finished, and even though the bar was technically just a square of
earth right now, in an hour or so, there'd be liquor flowing again.
Especially if Nate had his way.
All around him, Franklin could see people trying to salvage whatever
they could, sorting out what could be saved, reused, from the stuff
that was too badly burned or warped. Everywhere he looked, the piles
to save was pitifully small, but people kept searching anyway.
Domino directed him to put his piece of wood down, and had someone
nail it in place. She motioned for him to take a seat, and chuckled.
"Why don't you watch for a while?"
He sat, and watched as the last wall was put into place, and then
as Nur held the roof up while Nate and Patrick secured it. He murmured,
"Just like magic."
Kitty came up, and said to Domino, "Bobby. Um." She glanced at Franklin.
"Bobby's having another episode."
He gulped. "I don't have time--"
Kitty cut him off. "No, I know, no one has time right now." She picked
up some beams, and wandered away.
Domino took Franklin's hand, interrupting his thoughts. She said,
"Come on and buy me a drink."
"Do we have anything to drink?"
She pulled him inside, where people were already setting up makeshift
tables and chairs. The bar and cabinet itself had, miraculously, survived
-- or maybe not so miraculously, thanks to Nate -- and Franklin poured
them both cups. He held one out to Domino.
She took it, and said, "A toast?"
He pressed his lips together. Shadows filled his eyes. "Maybe, not
Domino slung her glass back, and looked out the new -- window was
a relative term, since there was half the wall missing, still, because
of a shortage of building supplies. She expected a rainbow, stretching
from the barn roof, across the fake sky, and down towards the house.
There wasn't one, of course, but it was only because Franklin had
never read the Bible.
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