51

I JUST WENT FOR IT.

Okay. I could deal with that. It just required a slight change in plans.

I grabbed Bitsie and the cell phone and went into the washroom at the back of the bus. I locked the door and told Bitsie what we were going to do. He had that look on his face—the one Bess uses to say “No matter what you ask me to do, I’m not going to like it.” He came around, though, once he realized that I was doing this for him.

I dialed the Puppet Plantation number and handed the phone to Bitsie. We were lucky Laird had no life. It was midnight Saturday but he was at the shop working on some drawings for a new puppet.

Bitsie said, “Hey, Laird,” in Zola’s voice, “glad I caught you.”

I knew Laird had a crush on her! You should have heard him. “Well, I’m glad you caught me too, Zola. How can I help you?” He sounded like such a cool guy, you’d almost think he was used to talking to girls.

“I know it’s short notice,” “Zola” said, “but we need a new Bitsie double.”

“No problem,” he went. “For when?”

“Monday morning by 6:30?” Bitsie made it sound like Zola was really apologetic for imposing. It was perfect.

Laird hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he could only do it if the molds were in good shape and he had the correct type of latex for the job on hand, etc. etc. etc. I was in agony.

I was kicking myself for wasting all that time crying and not thinking of this sooner. Finally, Laird said, “…but, yeah, I think I could get it done if I start right now.”

I got “Zola” to ask how much it would be. Laird did the old “Same as usual” but then, no doubt just to keep “Zola” on the phone a bit longer, he figured it out for her.

“It’ll be $2036.42. That’s including the tax.”

Now all I had to do was find the $2036.42.

Puppet Wrangler
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