Gust

The town’s only electrical repair shop was never short of customers.

The owner’s wife was no longer around and his teenage daughter could only do so much. The owner realised he needed to employ an assistant. He reluctantly hired a lad just out of school. After a couple of months, the boy’s help around the shop made a big difference. On the morning of the expected delivery of spare parts the man grew agitated; the van was late. There were several jobs outstanding, waiting for parts, with customers asking when there items would be ready for collection. On top of that, the air-conditioning unit on the roof was not cooling the place down the way it should. The lad had been up there before and shown how to clean the filters. He was asked to do it again.

“Just be careful,” said the owner, “it’s very windy up there.”

He collected what he needed and made his way to the staircase that took him up through a small door onto the roof. On the way, she stepped back and smiled, letting him pass in the passage with his toolbox. He winked.

He emerged into a blustery wind with occasional strong gusts. He made his way to the unit. He had been cleaning the filters for several minutes when the owner came out through the door.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“OK,” he replied, “They were pretty clogged up.”

The man smiled, then took on a worried expression. “Still no sign of the delivery.” He lifted his head and listened to the traffic. “Is that him? About time! Take a look, will you.”

The boy moved to the edge and peered down into the street. He hardly felt the gentle prod.

The man just didn’t like the kid dating his daughter.

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