The Boulder cont...

Now, Dad is smart enough to know that a man never offers more than he wants to pay for a coveted item. He scratched his chin pensively. The little man opened his cheque book and leaned it against the stone, his pen at the ready. Dad noticed in ornate letters at the top of the cheque: Brian Loganrooney, Lawyer. And below it: Specializing in Bankruptcy. And below that, an address, a fancy one, Dad guessed.

Dad touched the stone lovingly. He stood silent for a while, pretending to ponder the offer.

“Make it one grand and it’s yours,” he said in the firm voice of a man reluctantly parting with his most precious treasure.

“It’s a deal.”

The paunchy man wrote his cheque there and then, tore it from the book, and handed it to Dad. Dad took it and backed away slightly in case Mr. Loganrooney tried again to shake his hand.

Mr. Loganrooney, lawyer, specialist in bankruptcy, put his cheque book and his pen back in his pockets. He started towards his car, jingling his keys.

“And make sure you get it out of here tomorrow,” shouted Dad, “before I change my mind.”

The man left in his shiny Mercedes. Ti-Noir danced around Dad. Dad folded the cheque and put it in his back pocket. He pulled out a generous handful of bird seed from another pocket and spread it on the ground, then he went into the house to heat up a bit of his rabbit stew and stare at the valley for a while.