He never got paid.
Noah looked offended.
I once told him he should at least let the man give him twenty dollars.
Noah looked offended.
"Why?"
"Because you're doing work."
"So?"
"So people usually get paid for work."
He shrugged. "He can't do it."
Mr. Vance wasn't much of a conversationalist.
Apparently, as far as Noah was concerned, that settled the matter.
Mr. Vance wasn't much of a conversationalist.
Sometimes I would see Noah finish the lawn, wipe his forehead with his shirt, and stand by the porch.
Mr. Vance might say three words.
Noah might say two.
"What did you two talk about?"
Then Noah would come home.
"What did you two talk about?" I'd ask.
"Nothing."
"You stood there for ten minutes."
"Yeah."
"What did he say?"
That was apparently an entire conversation between them.
"He said it's hot."
"And?"
