Duffy rubbed his chin, sucked air through his teeth and scratched his neck. He looked at Verbal and saw his big smile, his open and friendly face. Puffing out a breath, he took the pen Verbal offered, filled in the serial number and signed.
“There now, y’see?” Verbal said. “Pretty soon we’ll be rollin’ in it.” He folded the papers and put them back in the briefcase. “I promised the missus I’d take her and the kids for ice cream. You have a good weekend.” He grabbed Duffy’s hand and shook it. “You take care, now, partner.” Whistling, he walked out of the hangar.
* * *
Saturday night couldn’t come soon enough for Duffy. It had been a long, tiring run. As he walked into the hotel beer parlor, he reflected that before he’d partnered with Verbal, he’d had more time for a few beers with his friends. It’d been weeks since he didn’t have to worry about getting up early the next day for a run.
Herb was at the bar polishing glasses as usual. Duffy put his foot up on the rail and slapped a tenner on the smooth surface. Herb nodded and drew off a pint while Duffy leaned back and watched the game at one of the pool tables. Wiping the foam off his lip with his sleeve, he sighed with contentment. Now, this is more like it.
“Hey, you,” a familiar voice said. Red McFadden parked his ample behind on the next stool, put his beer down and grabbed a handful of peanuts. “Where ya been? We’ve missed you around here.”
“How’re you doing, Red?” Duffy greeted his old friend. “You’re looking good. Same ugly mug as always.”
“Yeah, well if I’da grown a beard it would be grey by now. You been outa the country or something?”
“Just hauling people and equipment in and out of the backwoods.” Duffy took a long swallow of beer and settled himself on the stool. “You’re going to like this one. I’d just finished dropping equipment for a logging camp, when I got a call for a pick up from the another camp over by where the Cleese River runs into the lake. A guy in a hunting party needed transport to the mainland hospital. Seems an old grizzly bear figured he was entitled to a piece of the moose they bagged, so they loaded the carcass into their light-weight aluminium boat. Two of them scooted up a tree and the other two paddled out into the lake. A moose that size lowered that little boat right to the water line. The further out they got, the more it sank and kept on right ‘till it hit bottom. And like usual, there’s always one guy doesn’t know how to swim. When I got there, he was half-drowned and another other got his leg mauled before he climbed out of reach.
Red looked at Duffy and nodded, eyebrow quirked. “You’re puttin’ me on, aint’cha.”
Duffy shrugged. “’Tisn’t the first time something like that has happened.”
“What I’d like to know is how they wrassled that thousand pound moose into that little boat in the first place,”
