“I get the picture.” Serge tossed the tiny plastic chest to his buddy and began wheeling the glass tank into the building. He found a sturdy machinist table in back. “Coleman, help me.”
It was touch and go at Coleman’s end of the aquarium, but they eventually got it safely atop the metal platform. Serge turned around. “Ah, you startled me. What are you doing back here with us. I told you I wouldn’t be a bother.”
“Dammit, Serge.” Alfonso took off his hard hat. “I have a million things to do, but now I’ve got to know.”
“You positive?” Serge wiped down the inside of the glass with a rag. “There are accessory-before-and-after-the-fact laws.”
“Just tell me what you’re going to do.”
“Suit yourself,” said Serge. “It’s your warehouse.”
He wheeled the handcart back to the Firebird’s trunk, loaded a weighty cardboard box and returned. Alfonso and Coleman watched intently as Serge removed a dozen clear cylindrical tubes from the box and set them on the table. They were filled with something gray and granular. Serge sequentially dumped the contents of each tube into the aquarium, carefully creating an even layer across the bottom.
“What’s that?” asked Alfonso.
“You should know.” Serge opened another tube. “It might even have come from your scrapyard before it went through a processing center.”
“Iron pellets?”
“Good guess.” Serge spread another layer on the bottom.
“But where do you get something like that?”
Serge used his palms to smooth out lumpy spots. “They come in a variety of sizes. Large, mixed ore balls for smelting fodder. And super-pure tiny pellets from mail-order technology wholesalers to use in semiconductors and electron beams. These are in the middle, a uniform half millimeter sold by school-supply houses to make science projects. But not
Serge took off running and came back with another box from the car. The side of the cardboard: PERISHABLE. He opened the flaps of the carton, which was lined with thick plastic designed not to leak. Serge waved urgently. “Check it out!”
Alfonso peeked over the edge before looking up. “A live lobster?”
“His name’s Shelly. Can you take care of him for me?” Serge took off running. “Coleman, let’s rock!”
“Where are you going?” Alfonso yelled after him.
“To fill five-gallon jugs of salt water at the ocean.”
Alfonso jogged to the warehouse door. “But what am I supposed to do with a lobster?”
Serge threw the Firebird in gear. “I think he likes music.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
NIGHTFALL
A sliding metal door creaked along its track.
A Firebird skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust. “Don’t lock up yet!”
Alfonso turned with a padlock in his hand. “Serge! Dinner’s waiting at home!”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“That means six hours.”
“Three, tops.” Serge popped the trunk. “Coleman, grab a handcart.”
Alfonso exhaled with frustration and slid the door back open.
The pair began wheeling bluish five-gallon plastic jugs like the guys who service water coolers in office buildings.
Alfonso followed them as Serge filled the tank. He plugged in the aerator, and the bubbles started. Then Serge reached in the “perishable” box and petted the carapace. “That’s a good Shelly. I’ve made you a nice new home.” He let the lobster slip into the water and settle on the bottom. Serge pressed his face against the front glass and held up his right hand like it had a prize. “Since you like music, I also bought one of those underwater radios that can go in swimming pools or when you want to sing in the shower.” He clipped it inside the tank and turned it on.
The aquarium pulsed to muted bass tones.
“You’re playing him beach music?” said Alfonso.
“It’s very important that a lobster’s transition to a new home be as stress-free as possible,” said Serge. “Or you know what could happen?”
Alfonso shook his head.
“He could get shell shock.”
Alfonso just stared.
Serge smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s a joke from the movie
They ran over and helped Serge up into a sitting position. “Are you okay?”
“Serge! . . .”
He jumped up and ran back to the glass again. “I think he digs the Beach Boys album
“All right,” said Alfonso. “I can’t stand it any longer. I know I’m going to regret this, but what’s with the aquarium full of iron pellets?”
