The downside to the high quality of Deborah's shutters, though, was that they were very heavy and had sharp edges. Thick gloves were necessary-or in Chutsky's case, one glove. I'm not sure he appreciated the cash he was saving on gloves, though. He seemed to work a little harder than he had to, in order to let me know that he was not really handicapped and didn't actually need my help.

At any rate, it was only about forty minutes before we had all the shutters in their tracks and locked on. Chutsky took a last look at the ones that covered the French doors of the patio and, apparently satisfied with our outstanding craftsmanship, he raised his left arm to wipe the sweat from his brow, catching himself at the very last moment before he rammed the hook through his cheek. He laughed a little bitterly, staring at the hook.

"I'm still not used to this thing," he said, shaking his head. "I wake up in the night and the missing knuckle itches."

It was difficult to think of anything clever or even socially acceptable to say to that. I had never read anywhere what to say to someone speaking of having feeling in his amputated hand. Chutsky seemed to feel the awkwardness, because he gave me a small dry snort of non-humorous amusement.

"Hey, well," he said, "there's still a couple of kicks left in the old mule." It seemed to me an unfortunate choice of words, since he was also missing his left foot, and any kicking at all seemed out of the question. Still, I was pleased to see him coming out of his depression, so it seemed like a good thing to agree with him.

"No one ever doubted it," I said. "I'm sure you're going to be fine."
"Uh-huh, thanks," he said, not very convincingly. "Anyway, it's not you I have to convince. It's a couple of old desk jockies inside the Beltway. They've offered me a desk job, but…" He shrugged.

"Come on now," I said. "You can't really want to go back to the cloak-and-dagger work, can you?" "It's what I'm good at," he said. "For a while there, I was the very best." "Maybe you just miss the adrenaline," I said. "Maybe," he said. "How about a beer?" "Thank you," I said, "but I have orders from on high to get bottled water and ice before it's all gone." "Right," he said. "Everybody's terrified they might have to drink a mojito without ice." "It's one of the great dangers of a hurricane," I said. "Thanks for the help," he said. image