Free Regina's Song by David Eddings Page A

Erika.”
    “I’ll give Mark a hand with the rest of his lumber,” Charlie said. “Then you can show me where to flop.”
    “Don’t let him get away, Mark,” Erika told me with a peculiar fierceness.
    “Those are a couple of spooky ladies,” Charlie said, while we carried the rest of my boards around to the side.
    “Swedish girls lean toward intensity,” I agreed.
    After we’d finished, Trish gave Charlie the tour. He only glanced briefly into the room across the hall from mine. “It’ll do,” he said almost indifferently. “I’ll go back to Enumclaw and pick up my junk. Would it be OK if I put my tools in that basement room where Mark’s got his lumber? I don’t want to leave them in my truck. Good tools fetch fancy prices in pawnshops, so I don’t want to take chances on having somebody swipe them. If it’s OK, I’ll move in on Monday.”
    “That’s fine with me, Charlie,” Trish told him.
    “Would you mind if I painted the room?” he asked then. “Pink walls aren’t my scene.”
    “It’s your room,” Trish told him. “Pick any color you like.”

    I spent the morning in the basement staining the boards, then I went to a hardware store and bought those lock screws Charlie had mentioned, came back, and started installing the shelves. It went quite a bit faster than I’d thought it would, and I was better than halfway through the job when I knocked off for the day.
    I called Miss Mary’s house when I got back to the motel, and Twink answered the phone. “Where have been, Markie?” she demanded. “I tried to call you four times today.”
    “I was building bookshelves. Are you all right?”
    “I was just lonesome, that’s all. I thought that maybe we could go to a movie or something.”
    “Is there anything showing that you’d like to see?”
    “Not really. I’d just like to get out for a while.”
    “Have you eaten yet?”
    “I was going to pop a TV dinner into the microwave.”
    “Why don’t I take you out to dinner instead?”
    “That’d be nice.”
    “I’ll take a shower and change clothes. I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes, OK?”
    “Anything you say, Markie.”
    I realized that I’d been neglecting Twink for the past few days. I’d been busy, of course, but that was no real excuse.
    I took her to a Chinese restaurant, and we pigged out on sweet-and-sour pork. Then we sat over tea and talked until the restaurant closed. Twinkie seemed relaxed and even quite confident. She was coming right along.

    I was certain that I’d finish up the shelves and the painting on Friday, so I’d only have one more night in the motel before I’d be able to settle into my own room.
    I got up fairly early and started painting as soon as I got to the Erdlund house. I wanted the paint to be good and dry before I moved in my furniture.
    James stuck his head in through the doorway about noon. “Baby blue,” he noted.
    “I’m just a growing boy,” I replied.
    “Sure, kid. Who’s this Charlie guy the girls are all up in the air about?”
    “He’s an aerospace engineer who works for Boeing. His hobby is cars, and that made the Erdlund girls wiggle like puppies.”
    “Is Boeing
really
paying him to go to school? Or is he just blowing smoke in everybody’s ears?”
    “I think he’s giving us the straight scoop. He’s a sort of slob who quotes obscure passages from Shakespeare and knows more about the Italian Renaissance than you’d expect from an engineer. He’s a sharp one, that’s for sure. He’ll be moving in on Monday, and then you can judge for yourself.”
    “Nobody ever offered to buy
me
an education.”
    “We’re in the wrong fields, James.”
    “It looks like you’re almost finished,” he observed.
    “Three more shelves on top, then it’s all done.”
    “Do you really have
that
many books?”
    “Not quite, but I’m giving myself room for expansion. When you major in English, your library grows like a well-watered weed. I’ll get those last few