Free Child of Fire by Harry Connolly Page A

under any circumstances. He started this company, in part, to revitalize Hammer Bay. See, he’s also an activist, but his sole cause is the survival of the town his great-grandfather founded.”
    Annalise pressed him. She knew he had more orders than he could fill, and that he’d turned buyers away at the last toy fair. The company—
    Able interrupted her. He understood and respected her passion for her cause. He’d had her checked out before the meeting, but if he’d known
this
was what she wanted, he would have saved her the trip. Mr. Hammer would rather burn the company to the ground than outsource the work.
    Able looked at his watch again. I could see it was a lost cause. The absent Mr. Hammer had made his feelings known, and Able Katz didn’t have the authority tomake this decision and didn’t want it. He just wanted to get on with his workday.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have another meeting to prepare for. I sympathize with you, I really do, but I can’t help. Here.” He took a pen from inside his jacket and wrote on the back of a business card. Then he passed the card to Annalise. “Chuck is an old friend from New York. Talk to him about the problems he’s been having with the clothes for his snow ninja line. Okay?”
    Annalise took the card from him. “I still want to talk to Charles Hammer.”
    Able’s smile faltered. Not even a thank-you from her. “He’s in seclusion working on a new line. He can’t be disturbed.” He stood to show us out.
    We stood, too. “You’re protective of him,” I said.
    Able turned toward me. His smile was a little strained. “Absolutely,” he said. “He’s earned it.”
    “How?” I asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m really curious. Why did you leave New York to come to Hammer Bay, Washington?”
    Able shrugged. “Four years ago I was bringing down six figures with my own marketing-and-consulting firm. We designed ad campaigns for promo toys and ran the best focus groups in the business. When I saw the Hammer Bay Toys exhibit at the toy fair, I thought they were a joke. Everything about them was wrong, according to the conventional thinking.”
    Able opened the door and led us back into the main office. “I mean, fashion dolls from the seventeenth century? What little girl would buy Marie Antoinette outfits? Every toy fair has a couple of exhibitors that seem a little wacky. We were all snickering at Charles behind his back.”
    We slowly walked across the office toward the elevator. Able was on a roll. There was a light in his eye and a note of desperation in his voice. He sounded like aconvict who’d found Jesus and wanted you to understand why.
    “But we were wrong and he was right. Those old-fashioned dolls flew off the shelves as fast as he could make them, even though the price point was too high, and the profit margin was nearly non ex is tent. I was supposed to be the expert, and as far as I knew, kids just
didn’t want
that sort of thing.
    “By the next year, when he came out with the Eagle Riders, Robo-Zombies, and Helping Hand Trains, I didn’t know what to think. The toys were still all wrong and they were priced too high, but this time I was
drawn
to them. I
wanted
them, just like all those kids did.”
    I noticed a woman walking the length of the office toward us.
    “So I left New York and my six-figure job to work for someone who believes in ideas instead of focus groups. With every new line we release, I expect the company to come apart. But it doesn’t happen. Every knockoff line out of Mattel or Hasbro flops, even though their prices are lower and they can fill the shelves. I can’t explain it, but it’s been an amazing ride. And this year we’re releasing more toy lines than ever.”
    He pushed the elevator button. The woman reached us. “Excuse me, Able,” she said. “Charles is ready to meet with you now.” We looked across the office. A tall, angular young man with a thick head of dark hair stood at the far end of