Blind Your Ponies (2011)
“A few vehicles lingered in front of the café, like weary horses tied at the rail. The night was unseasonably warm, more like April than December, a balmy wind gusting from the southwest.
Tom and Pete crept to the building’s back door with the bearing of burglars, leaving Olaf in the bus, a getaway driver. Through the windowed door they could see Axel mopping the room. Tom knocked lightly and the brawny man looked up, momentarily startled. Then he waved them in.
“What are you guys doing up?” the innkeeper said. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“We need some paint,” Tom said.
“Paint! At this time of night?”
“Yeah, do you have any around?” Pete said.
Axel cocked his sweat-glistened bald head and regarded the two boys suspiciously, his hand holding the mop handle like a meat cleaver.
“What are you fellas plannin’ to paint?”
“We have to fix something,” Tom said. “Do you have any?”
“We don’t have a water tower.” Axel paused. “A bridge?”
“No, nothing like that, honest,”
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