The old crew cab bounced up the hill, five men packed inside, two still asleep from last night’s unwinding.
“I don’t know why he wants to protect this thing.” Mauricio hopped from the vehicle and started unloading the chain link fence from the bed. He hit the side of the truck. “Wake up, chumps. We’re not doing this job by ourselves, not this time.”
“What is this place, anyways?” Gregory stood with his hands in his pockets staring at Mr. Rosenthal’s castle. “It’s not even historic. I could’ve built this, a few bricks, mortar, windows – and voilà!”
Now, all five men stood shoulder to shoulder mesmerized by the monstrosity old man Rosenthal called his palace.
With the back of his hand, Mauricio smacked Homer on the arm. “Let’s get to work.”
Pole after pole went into the dirt. The sweaty, tired men sat down on the large stones near the homes entrance to have lunch.
Gregory looked back over his shoulder, immediately rising to his feet. “I swear someone’s up there!” He pointed towards the top of the building. “See, it’s a woman!”
A tall skinny figure, dressed in a long black gown, a veil covering her face and gloves that led up to her elbows, waved down to the group. “Join me for a cup of tea?” She asked, moving closer to the edge.
“No ma’am. We’re about to finish up here but thank you for the offer.” Mauricio replied – for all.
Later that afternoon, the men met up with Mr. Rosenthal to get their pay. “Fencing your wife in, Huh?” Gregory joked.
“Something like that.” He winked. “She’s been dead for decades.” Mr. Rosenthal opened his wallet and distributed a stack of hundreds to each man. “Voilà!” He laughed. “Visit again soon, won’t ya’? She gets lonely.”
Leesa Writes 