Page 26 of Street

“Let me speak to him.”

Rosa walked closer to offer the device to Fury. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Street. I’m here laying pipe for the kitchen and bathrooms. Are you okay with me putting Rosa to work? She doesn’t seem like the lie-around-the-house type.”

Rosa bristled a bit at that and then mentally shook her head. Fury was right. She was so used to working hard as many hours as she could to survive. Just hanging around would drive her nuts. She tuned back into the conversation.

“Got it. I’ll find her gloves and go over safety with her.” After a slight pause, he added, “I’ll make sure she gets lunch and drinks water.”

Fury returned the phone to Rosa. “He probably wants to say something mushy.”

“Yes?” she asked, speaking to Street.

“Are you sure you want to help?” Street asked. “This isn’t glamorous.”

“Better than cleaning toilets at that dive bar. Men are gross.”

“Good point. Stop when you’re tired,” he demanded. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said, crossing her fingers at her side. She planned to do as much as she could to repay Street for her food and shelter.

“I’ll meet you at home around five. Be good, Little girl.”

“See you soon. Be careful… Street,” she substituted his name for the Daddy that almost slipped out of her mouth.

“Let’s get started,” Fury said, drawing Rosa from her thoughts. “Help me bring the pipe in. We’ll make a pile here in the center of the house.”

In a few minutes, they’d carried in the long tubes and Fury’s tools from his pickup truck in the driveway. Fury handed her a simple device and showed her how to cut the pipe by rotating the cutter around the circumference. The move took a bit of hand strength but was simple. Her confidence rose after finishing several sample lengths.

“Isn’t there a saw or something that cuts these too?” she asked, trying to save time. Each piece took several minutes to finish.

“Yes. I don’t use that because the spinning blade roughs up the edges and they have to be cleaned up. This cuts neatly and without 99% of the mess. I’m going to lay this out and then I’ll call some lengths to you. You can save Street some money if you efficiently use the pipe to avoid waste.”

“What’s the smallest piece you expect to need?” she asked.

“Anything under six inches will probably be scrapped,” he guessed. “Figure out where you’re going to record the measurements. I’ll tell you several out at a time.”

Finding a small piece of drywall, she suspected would only be good for the scrap heap, Rosa borrowed a pencil from his toolbox.

“Ready?” Fury called.

“When you are.” Rosa scribbled down the numbers quickly as Fury called them out. He told her seven lengths. Immediately, she added different combinations up in her head, getting as close to the ten-foot length of the piping as she could.

“Put these on,” Fury told her, handing her a pair of gloves. “They’ll be too big, but better floppy than getting your hands blistered.”

When he walked away, Rosa got busy. The gloves were a complete bother. She couldn’t grip the pipe or hold the cutter correctly with the flapping fabric interfering. Afraid she’d make a mistake, Rosa stripped the protection off almost immediately.

A few hours later, Fury announced, “Lunchtime, Rosa. You need to take a break.”

Rosa set down the cutter and winced. She saw the redness coloring the web of her hand between her thumb and index finger and shifted her arm behind her back to conceal her injury. She’d noticed her hand hurt, but they’d made significant progress so far. Fury had finished with the piping for the bathrooms.

“Why are these gloves over here?” Fury asked, picking up the discarded fabric.

“I couldn’t grip the plastic well with those on. I’m okay.” She rushed to reassure him.

“Let me see your hands,” Fury demanded.

“No, really, I’m fine.”