“Okay, but check it out,” Rudy said, and pointed. I looked at the oak. The upper part of the trunk clung to the lower part by only a foot of wood, all twisted out of shape. The upper section of the trunk was ready to break free. When that foot of wood gave way, it would swing like a deadly pendulum.

“I guess if Aldi were in there, he’d have come out by now,” Rudy said. “I’m glad he signed that piece of cardboard.”

“It’s going to crush his garage, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Or we could get lucky,” said Rudy.

“Too bad we didn’t do this on purpose,” I said. “It’s really a thing of beauty, I mean if it were a trap for our enemies.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking,” Rudy said, and we sat in silence. “What do you think?” he asked.

He had never asked me that before.

“I could shoot it,” I said. “I could shoot that foot of wood.”

“You?” he asked.

“I’m a pretty good shot. We’ve been practicing all winter,” I said.

“No way,” he said. “I fucked this up. I better take the shot so that we can say I fucked it up from beginning to end.”

“But it was my idea,” I said.

“But I’m your boss,” he said.

“You’re probably in shock,” I said. “Haven’t you heard of zebras shaking and shaking until they regain their equilibrium? I mean after a lion attack? You just almost got crushed to death.”

“But I’ve never felt better,” said Rudy. “I feel like I’ve been sleeping for the last five years and I just woke up.”

“That’s not a good time to shoot a gun,” I said. “I’ll shoot, and you should shake.”

“Shake?” he asked. “Like, on purpose?”

“Yes,” I said. “Like a zebra.”

“Okay,” he said, which was another thing he had never said to me.

“Do we have a gun?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said.

He went to his truck, folded back a tarp, and took out his shotgun. He handed it to me. He passed me my ear protection.

“Stand back,” I told him.

Rudy stood back.

“Shake,” I told him.