Sam Palmer
Harry & His Teacup

“Harry! Harry?”
The roaring of power tools stopped followed by something heavy being set down on the workbench. “I’m here Theresa.”
I smiled, clutching the doorframe before I gingerly took a step down into the garage. One step more and I’d be on the ground. Ten steps over to the stool beside the workbench.
“You’ve been out here for ages, sweetie. What are you working on?” Hands extended I counted the last three steps until I felt the corner of the workbench. Once he saw me safely sit down on the bench, I heard movement as he walked closer to me. The smell of sweat and the sound of a dirty forearm against a slick forehead.
“Oh just cuttin’ up some scrap. Finally getting around to it.”
“Oh.” I smiled sweetly towards the sound of his voice.
“How was your afternoon, hun?” His voice was moving and I could hear the sound of him picking up and setting down his tools.
“Oh, it was alright! Warm one today. I think we’re finally getting into spring! I can smell the blossoms on the trees opening. I just love the smell of spring!”
“I know you do,” a smile in his voice. I turned my head to the left, where I pictured him standing, listening to me without looking as he busied himself with tidying up his tools.
“I laid in the warm sun on the couch today and did some reading. I just love that book you got me on your trip. It’s wonderful! The next time you go out, could you grab me another? It’s so hard to find books in braille here in town.”
“Of course. Anything in particular?”
“No. Surprise me.”
“Alrighty. I’m glad you had such a nice quiet afternoon, Teacup.”
“Me too! That dog next door didn’t bark all day! It was bliss.”
“Yeah? That’s good. So no more headaches?”
I shook my head. “No, sir! Do you think they finally got him trained?”
“Who knows.”
“Well, whatever they did, I hope they keep doing it. That barking was making me crazy.”
“I know, Theresa. I’m sure it won’t bother you anymore.”
I fiddled with a loose wood chip on the workbench as I listened to more clanging of tools from the other side of the garage. “Hey are you getting hungry yet? I’m starved!”
I heard him grunt with something heavy, and the sound of it thudding onto a surface. “Yeah. I could eat. I just have to finish cutting some of this up, then I’ll head in and we’ll make dinner yeah?”
“Okay, babe.” I nodded and stood slowly from the stool.
“Teacup, would you mind carefully pushing that hacksaw this way? The handle is right near the edge there on the workbench.”
My hand moved forward on the bench, lightly feeling the surface with my fingertips until I felt the worn handle of the tool. Using just my fingertips I lifted it slightly off the surface and inched it forward until I heard it thud against something.
“Perfect. Thanks babe. I’ll be right in.”
“Okay, love you!”
“Love you too.”
I counted the ten steps back to the steps of the garage as I heard the sound of the saw cutting into something. Wet and thick sounding before finally the crunch as the blade connected with something hard. I gripped the doorframe and stepped up onto the steps leading into the house. Pausing I noted the metallic smell and wet dog.
“Oh Harry….. you didn’t–“