09:30 · morning
Lonny finally says no to being helped and asks for the orchard hooks instead — for Pinky, not with Pinky. Pinky nearly refuses out of habit; Handy, going past with rope, says "Pinky. Let them." Pinky accepts, and then sits down on an upturned bucket and does nothing for a count of ten.
3 fluffs tell this minute. None of them saw the same one.
I went past Pinky at about half past nine, carrying rope, and Pinky was in the middle of refusing to let Lonny do a job — it's quicker if I — and I said, without stopping, "Pinky. Let them."
I did not think about it at the time. I have thought about it a good deal since, given what happened about ninety minutes later.
And I heard my own mouth say: "No."
Which was not at all what I meant.
"I mean — I've been standing here all morning trying to say a thing and you keep getting there first." My ears had gone a colour I could feel. "Can I do the orchard hooks? For you. Not with you. For you."
There was a pause about a thousand years long.
"No," said Lonny.
I stopped.
"I mean —" Lonny had gone a colour. "I don't mean no. I mean I've been standing here all morning trying to say a thing and you keep getting there first." A breath. "Can I do the orchard hooks? For you. Not with you. For you."
And I heard myself say: "That's kind, but honestly it's quicker if I —"
