Table of Contents


Views and Mechanics
Publisher's Note
Editor's Note
Review of Nickel and Dimed
Review of Night Shade
By Elizabeth Murray
Radical Influence: Review of Spoken Word Revolution Redux
By Romella D. Kitchens
Creative Nonfiction
Toiling in the Garden of Memory
By Madonna Dries Christensen
Poetry
Homecoming
By Nic Sebastian
Maple Syrup Emergency
By Paul Carlino
Bathroom Visitor
By Michael Lee Johnson
Fiction
A Job Well Done
By Catherine Cheek
Animal Man
By R.B. Trout
Watch Over
By S.K. Tatiner
The Frailty of Perfection
By William R. Stoddart
Eat Drink and Be Merry
By Rebecca Barbush
Cover Art
"Riot of Flowers" By Dee Rimbaud
About the Contributors

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A Job Well Done
By Catherine Cheek

Security will be tighter than a gnat’s ass on account of our organization's last assassination attempt, but lucky for us, someone decided that the floor had to be refinished in the auditorium. We used our contacts to make sure that Desmond and I got the job. I hadn’t actually done floor refinishing (explosives are my specialty) but Desmond has done just about every kind of woodworking there is to do. It’s a two man job, so I’ll have to fake it.

We’ll find some place to stash the detonator and the explosives while we’re doing the job. There will be guards there, so we have to be patient. They see us acting suspiciously, they’re gonna fire us and then we’ll lose this perfect assassination opportunity. The detonator and the explosives are hidden in the cans of varnish.

#

When Ray told me the organization needed my woodworking skills, I didn’t know what to expect, but hey, I care about the revolution as much as anyone. Then I saw the audience hall and realized this would be the finest project I ever worked on. The whole place is an incredible piece of craftsmanship. They don’t do carpentry like this anymore. All the moldings and finials are hand-carved. I got a look at the floor we’re going to re-do, huge parquetry inlaid with rare woods, and I can tell the electric sander I brought is too rough. I’m going to have to get the variable-powered one from the shop.

Ray makes a mess of it, but he insists on helping. I used the finest grit sandpaper I had, but he still managed to sand gouges in it before I stopped him. This floor is really a masterpiece; it’s got teak, ebony, mahogany, plus others I haven’t been able to identify. It’s a shame to refinish it when it doesn’t really need it, but that’s the plan. I wish we had some decent varnish with us. Ray insisted on getting the cheapest stuff available, which, on a floor like this, is really a crime.

#

I thought we had all the props, but Desmond went back to get something. Then he said we should start by mopping the floor. That seemed like an unnecessary step, but he’s the expert. I’m keeping a look out for the guards. They’re watching us closely. We’ll probably have to “work” on the floor for a while to ease their suspicions.

Desmond is getting on my nerves. He had me go back over a section three times until I got it “right” and even then he just took the sander away from me and had me do it by hand. I suppose he’s doing it to buy us more time, but he’s being overly picky about a floor that’s just going to be blown up. I tried to tell him that, but he mumbled some nonsense about craftsmanship being sacred.

The guards are starting to relax. I still don’t know where we’re going to put the bomb. The assembly is in four days. I thought we would just leave the job unfinished and leave the cart with the bomb in a hallway someday, but when I suggested this to Desmond he looked at me like I’m stupid.

#

Ray keeps reminding me that the only reason we’re here is to make sure the Chancellor dies. He keeps looking for shortcuts, like leaving the bomb on our cart. I told him we can’t, because the job has to be finished several days before the Chancellor comes to visit so that the smell has a chance to dissipate. I do have an idea. Some of the inlay in the compass rose needs repairing. There are chips and large cracks. I’ll shave off some wood from the backside of other sections, and then carve them to fill in the gaps. It will mean taking up some other sections, but that’s the only way to get the right color. You couldn’t easily get rare woods like this, even before the Chancellor came to power. I think we can patch this part in time if we stay a few extra hours each day. (I wonder if it’s too late to get the better varnish?)

Ray keeps telling me not to put so much work into it, but I can’t help it. My grandpa taught me that we come from a long line of woodworkers, and that craftsmanship always comes first.

I found out that the border has some ivory in it as well. Ivory! Can you imagine? I really don’t know how it will take this cheap varnish. I’ve never refinished ivory before. I may never get the chance again.

#

Desmond had me take up some sections to get wood for repairs. I was gonna argue, but now I realize that we can plant explosives underneath, and connect the different sections by wires to the detonator. It’s really a brilliant plan. I’m surprised he thought of it.

We finally started the varnishing today. Desmond seems down. I suppose he’s afraid innocent civilians will die. Our plan is working. The guards don’t pay attention anymore. We laid the explosives and the detonator under the parquetry sections we took up and glued the wires down flush with the floors. Now that the first layer of varnish is on, you can’t even see the wires unless you know where to look. It’s looking pretty good. Desmond really knows what he’s doing.

#

Ray and I put final coat of varnish on not a moment too soon. It’s still going to smell when the assembly gets here. They should have hired us sooner.

I’m glad I took the extra effort to fix the chips in the inlay. The real wood looks much better than a wood-filler paste would. The entire floor is gleaming under its new finish. I still wish we could have used the clearer high-grade varnish.

It’s flawless. A job well done. Even Ray seems proud. I knew he’d come round to my way of thinking.

#

Desmond’s gone, and the organization’s furious. The Chancellor came for his speech, all right, but nothing blew up. Desmond must have sabotaged the bomb. I don’t get why he screwed things up, after all the work we did. Some guys just don’t have what it takes to do a job right.