Westlake, Donald E - Novel 25 (3 page)

 
          
 
Philip said, "I'm sorry about spilling
dirt on top of your hat, Mister Neep. I didn't mean to do it. I won't do it

 
          
 
Mister Neep thought it over, and decided not
to be mad any more. "Apology accepted," he said.

 
          
 
"I was just playing with my new dump
truck," Philip explained. "Would you know where I could find some
dirt?"

 
          
 
"Well," said Mister Neep, "in
my experience dirt seems to fall from the sky sometimes. The only other place I
can think of is the park."

 
          
 
"My mother will take me there on
Sunday," said Philip. "But I was thinking about right now."

 
          
 
"Then I don't know," said Mister
Neep.

 
          
 
"Oh, well," said Philip. "I'll
just keep on looking."

 
          
 
Philip went back inside, feeling very glum. He
didn't know where to look next for dirt.

 
          
 
Then all at once he saw a great big pot of
sand next to the elevator. It had been there all along, but Philip had just
never noticed it before.

 
          
 
This pot of sand was for grown-ups. They put
cigarettes in it before getting into the elevator. But Mister Neep had just put
fresh sand in the pot this morning and it was still clean.

 
          
 
The pot was just big enough for the dump truck
to circle in. Philip knelt down on the floor beside the pot of sand, and he and
his dump truck went back to work.

 
          
 
Philip found that sand was very good stuff to
work with.

 
          
 
The scoop bit into it smoothly every time, and
it spread out to fill every corner of the truck, and when he dumped it out it
made a very interesting mountain shape. Philip worked and worked.

 
          
 
All of a sudden, a shadow spread over the pot
of sand. Philip looked up. Mister Neep was standing there with his hands on his
hips. Mister Neep's face looked like the sky just before a thunderstorm, but
with some red in it around the nose.

 
          
 
Mister Neep was angry again.

 
          
 
Philip said, "Am I doing something wrong,
Mister Neep?"

 
          
 
"Take one look at that floor, 11 said
Mister Neep.

 
          
 
Philip took one look at the floor. Then he
knew what Mister Neep was angry about. The dump truck hadn't just been moving
sand around inside the pot. It had also been spilling sand onto the floor.
There was quite a bit of sand on the floor now, almost as much as there was in
the pot.

 
          
 
"I'm going to have to clean that
up," said Mister Neep.

 
          
 
"I'm sorry," said Philip. "I
didn't notice it."

 
          
 
"Well, I noticed it," said Mister
Neep. "And if I notice any more from you today, you just might notice a
stinging

 
sensation
in the seat
of your pants. Do you follow me?"

            
"Yes," said Philip.
"You mean you might swat me."

            
"That's exactly what I
mean," said Mister Neep. "Now, I'm going to go get the broom and
dustpan. Where will you be when I come back?"

            
"Somewhere else," said
Philip.

            
"Very good," said Mister
Neep. Mister Neep went away to his closet for the dustpan and broom. Philip
picked up his truck and went somewhere else. Where Philip went was outside on
the sidewalk. He stood there with his new truck and looked around. He tried and
tried to think where he could find some dirt to dig in, but there just didn't
seem to be any dirt anywhere.

 
          
 
Out beyond the sidewalk was the street. Buses
rumbled by on the street. Trucks thundered by.
Tractor
trailers growled by.
Automobiles and taxicabs whizzed by. Little foreign
cars zipped by.

 
          
 
Philip's mother had told him never to cross
the street by himself. With all those buses and trucks and tractor trailers and
automobiles and taxicabs and little foreign cars rushing by, Philip could
understand why his mother wanted him to cross only with grown-ups.