Fear Thy Neighbor (27)

“You wanna rent or buy?”

“I didn’t know you could rent tools,” she answered.

“Follow me,” he said.

Alison followed him to the back of the store. There was a counter with three sides, one with a cash register, the two others piled with an assortment of tools. He took a catalogue, thumbed through a few earmarked pages, then slid it across the counter. “This look like what ya gotta clear out?”

It was a gardening manual. “It’s close, but I have more wild vegetation, some bamboo. A couple of shovels, maybe some pruning shears?”

“That’ll break your back, but you look like a strong gal. I can give ya a list of tools to make your work easy. Can you operate a riding lawn mower?”

“Never tried, though I’m a fast learner.”

“I can rent ya one with a brush grubber. I’m guessing you’ll need a weed hacker and a chain saw, too.”

Alison nodded. “And you’ll instruct me on how to use them?”

“I can’t, but I’ve got someone who can.”

Thinking she might be jumping the gun, she told the old man, “I’m going to buy a few tools for now. Basic stuff. If I can’t clear out the rest, I’ll rent your mower. I need two sets of shears, a couple saws, and shovels. To start,” she added.

“You want two of everything?”

“I have help,” she said. At least she hoped Renée would help, or at least hang out with her, because Alison enjoyed the young girl’s company.

“I’ll get your tools, then,” he said.

“Thanks.”

She waited while the old man gathered the tools in the back. Wondering how much they’d cost, she figured that owning a home, she would need all sorts of tools. And a lawn mower for the large strips of grass flanking the drive. Or she would hire a service.

“Here ya go.” The old man placed the tools on the counter. “I know these are kinda old-looking cause the handles are worn, a bit rusty in places that don’t matter. No need wasting your money on new ones—these will get the job done, and you’re only out twenty bucks.”

“No way, twenty dollars isn’t nearly enough,” she said as she took some cash from her wallet.

“Now listen here, I’ve owned this old shop for almost forty years. We buy used tools and sell ’em. No harm in that, don’t ya agree? If I told ya what I paid for these”—he nodded at the tools—“you’d think I’s ripping you off charging twenty bucks. Now, let’s get these bagged up. If you need to rent the mower, you know where to find me. I’m Gib,” he said. “Least that’s what folks been calling me most a my life.” He chuckled.

“Gib, I’ll remember that,” she said, giving the old man a smile. “I’m Alison.”

“Nice to meet ya, Alison. Where ya gonna live? In the Pass or the island?” he asked while he put her tools in a box.

“You mean Matlacha Pass?”

“The one and only. Best fishing spot in Florida.”

“No, I’m in the process of buying a place on the beach,” she told him, wondering if he knew which house, and if he had a story to tell, too.

“Lucky gal, the beach is quiet most of the time. Purdy sunsets, too,” he added.

She was relieved when he didn’t have a negative comment. “I haven’t watched a sunset, but I plan to this evening. I’m sure it’s stunning.”

“Ain’t nothing like it, Miss Ali,” he said. “One of the best in the entire state a Florida. Colors you ain’t never seen before.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him calling her “Miss” Ali, though she didn’t mind it in his grandfatherly way. And since she was starting a new life, she decided then and there to call herself Ali from now on.

“I’ll find out this evening, Gib. I’m good with the secondhand tools. When they wear out, I’ll just sell them back to you.” Grinning as she said this, she was fairly sure she wouldn’t need to sell them back. If all went according to plan with Kimberly on Monday morning, when the time came, she’d purchase more supplies from him.

“You’re a smart gal,” he said. “Now remember, if ya need to rent the mower, you just give me a call, and I’ll have Hal deliver it to your place. He’ll show you how to operate the mower and the scrubber too. You got an address, just in case.”

She was almost afraid to give it to him, fearing he would start spouting off horror stories as Lacey had. “The little yellow beach house.”

“I know where the place is,” said Gib, his expression hardened.

She was prepared for another tall tale, and when he didn’t add a story about the old house, she sighed in relief.

“When or if I need that equipment, I’ll give you a call,” she said. “Do you have a card?”

“Yep,” he said, taking a card from a holder in the shape of a wrench and giving it to her. This old guy was the nicest person she’d encountered, other than Renée and Valentina. Lacey and Fish-Eyes from the coffee shop weren’t going to ruin this for her. Though Fish-Eyes hadn’t really offended her, just wouldn’t accept her tip.

“I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Hey now, no need to rush out of here so fast,” Gib told her, turning around and shouting to someone named Hal. “Hal, I need ya up front.” To her, he said, “No need for you to carry this; it’s on the heavy side. Hal’s a strapping fella. Got more muscle than he does brains.”