for anything, Eveleth, it’s a coffin factory. A place where coffins are made. Apparently, Corey does handles and trim and this guy Bill does linings. And his dad, Bill’s dad, had the pinball machine that we’re going to pick up. It’s got race cars on it, you know.”
“Yes, you said.”
“I’m hoping it has a horn and a siren. You’ve got to admit, that would be pretty fucking fantastic.”
“Why would a pinball machine have a siren?” she asked.
“Probably doesn’t, but wouldn’t it be great if it did? Keep you up all night long with that,” he said. “I just like the sound of it.”
“If you’re that eager to hear a siren, I can call the police and have them pull you over.”
“Oh, big talk, Minnesota.”
“You know,” she said, “I might not know you well enough to be your navigator yet. I don’t know how much time you’ve spent around Boston, but the streets are designed to prevent anyone from successfully figuring out where they’re trying to go.”
“We’ll take our chances.” She kept her eye on the phone until it was time to wiggle the truck through the baffling, jammed, often diagonal and one-way streets of Somerville. They found the tall, slate-blue house, and Dean parked in the driveway beside it. They climbed out, and Evvie bent over and hugged the backs of her knees to stretch out her back. She followed Dean up onto the porch, where he rang the bell. The door opened, and a man with half-gray hair and a UMass sweatshirt pushed the screen open.
“Morning, sir, I’m Dean, and this is Eveleth.”
“Oh, hello, yes, I’m Bill, come on in.” Bill shook both their hands and moved aside, and they found themselves in a mostly empty living room with cardboard boxes stacked in one corner labeled GARAGE SALE 1 and GARAGE SALE 2. “Pardon the mess, we’re still working through my father’s things.”
“Not at all,” Dean said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Dean. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I enjoyed watching you play. If that’s all right to tell you.”
“Of course, thank you.”
“My father did, too, even if he’d sit in front of the TV and call you something not so flattering. He’d have gotten a charge out of you buying the machine.” Bill put his hands on his hips and heaved a sigh.
“Well, hopefully he got to see my last few appearances and it brought him some joy.”
Bill looked up and gave Dean what Evvie could only characterize as a full-on twinkle. “I think he saw some of it, yeah.”
“Happy to help,” Dean said, spreading his arms wide.
“I’m gonna overlook that jersey you’re wearing,” Bill said with feigned sternness. “Was the drive down okay?”
“It was. I still owe Evvie a cruller, but I think we’ll make it back home.”
“I get paid in pastries,” she added.
Bill smiled. “I’m glad you could come down. I’ve been trying for a couple months to find a good home for this. I wanted somebody to have it who’d enjoy it.”
“Dean will really enjoy it,” Eveleth said. “I think you can safely assume you could not have found a more loving parent for it.”
Bill laughed. “All right, perfect.” He led them into a game room at the back of the house, where everything else had been cleaned out, but the pinball machine was against one wall. It didn’t look new or anything, but someone had dusted it, and, when Bill turned it on, it obligingly buzzed and rang its bells, like an eager shelter dog ready to be rescued. While there was no siren, brightly colored cars decorated both the sides of the cabinet and the backbox—hot cars, in someone’s mind, with fins and stripes, being leaned on by girls in full skirts and boys in cuffed jeans.
Dean helped Bill take the machine apart (he has such nice arms, don’t look, don’t look), marking the connections Dean would have to make again later, and Dean and Evvie carried it out to the truck in pieces they’d meticulously encased in bubble wrap and crisscrossed with tape. Back inside Bill’s house, she looked away politely as Dean counted out a wad of cash that he handed to Bill with a handshake, and they started back to the truck.
“Not every lady would go for a pinball machine in the house,” Bill called out. “You got a good girl there.”
“Oh, I know I do.” Dean nodded over his shoulder.
Evvie opened the door of the truck and climbed inside, and when he’d gotten in, too,