The tax numbers didn’t work, so we had to visit Mr. Singh. Have I mentioned Mr. Singh? Bernie has a watch that belonged to his grandfather. Not Mr. Singh’s grandfather – Bernie’s. Forget about Mr. Singh’s grandfather. Bernie’s grandfather had a ranch right where we live now on Mesquite Road, but way bigger, going on and on. The watch stays in the safe until our finances get really messy. Then we take it to Mr. Singh.
“Ah, Bernie and Chet,” said Mr. Singh. “What a busy year I am having, and this is the busiest day in it.” He took the watch. “My very favorite timepiece – I would love to take it to Antiques Roadshow. Will they ever come to the Valley?”
“Don’t know,” Bernie said. “But you’d be a star.”
Mr. Singh gave a shy smile. I like that shy human smile, eyes looking down, feet shuffling. He handed over some money. “Time for a bite or two of curried goat, if I happened to have some warming in the back?”
If he happened to have some warming – that was a good one. I’d smelled that curried goat while we were pulling into Mr. Singh’s parking lot. I headed toward the back of Mr. Singh’s shop, trying hard not to run.
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