Page 51 of A Seer and Present Danger

Me sorting boxes

Well, that settled it.

“I’ll head right over.”

“Good.” She ended the call.

I chuckled.

“One thing I like about you, Bertie,” I said, starting the car, “is how straight-forward and clear you are. No one can misinterpret what you tell them.”

* * *

Bertie had massively understated how much work there was left to do. The tables at the community center groaned with piles of donations. Even more piles teetered beside them.

The donation drive had gone too well.

Bertie must be thrilled.

There was clothing, bedding, and—hey! a pile of familiar faded talking teddy bears.

Kenny had donated something. Good for him.

Two other volunteers in headphones were at their tables sorting, so I headed to the bears and the table that had several empty boxes.

“You have seen better days, haven’t you, friends?” I picked up each bear and flipped the little switch to make sure they worked.

Every teddy, except for one, called out a cheery “Hello.” Not bad for old toys.

I considered the bear without the working voice box.

“You’re faded, but still pretty cute,” I said. “And you’re probably a collector’s item, or at least have the nostalgia factor going for you.”

I put that bear to one side (it might just need new batteries or for its wires to be reconnected), then gave each bear a little dusting and smoothed out its fur. I tucked them into boxes along with several other new toys and a good selection of fun items.

I made notes on the charts, inventoried each box, gave a suggested age for the recipient, and once that was done, took the completed charts to the basket where they’d be entered into the computer to keep track of the items and to make sure we had enough boxes for enough ages.

Then I moved on to the next set of boxes.

Sorting took enough concentration to keep my brain busy. Flashes of little Futures helped me make decisions when I got stumped.

Dusi was right, the power was useful, even if I only used it for little things. I made great progress on three more tables.

When my phone alarm went off, I was surprised an hour and a half had gone by already.

I might have made progress, but there was more to be done—a lot more. Luckily, a crowd strolled through the door, laughing and exchanging insults.

The knitting and crocheting clubs had just arrived.

Good. They’d straighten this all out before sundown.

I greeted a few members. (I was an infrequent member of both clubs which made me a traitor to both.) I also reminded them my little store would be open soon. Then I picked up the broken teddy bear and hurried out to change before my shift.

Kenny’s shop was on the way to my house, and returning the broken bear for him to repair would be the perfect excuse to ask him a few more questions.

So, I turned into the parking lot.

The lights were off, which was strange (or maybe not that strange if he was going to quit the business), but I got out of the car anyway and strolled to the door.