Chapter 207: Useful Things Were Her Weakness

Dove looked at Cal, at the bags she had meant to pack, and finally at the route sheet. "Before I say yes, tell me whether this is an ordinary building or the sort of building that tries to kill people who like shelves."

"An old delivery garage," Cal said. "The owner agreed to let us look, and his nephew is meeting us. The cut ramp is still at the equipment stop. I sent word to its keeper before coming here."

Dove ate her dinner before answering. Ash had already spoiled the walk; Cal wasn’t getting the food too. Then she asked about finding the spare before somebody could strand them on the road. The garage was half an hour away on the upper road. Its owner would trade a sound ramp.

The owner had also marked surplus goods they could search. Dove agreed, provided Cal checked their truck before departure. Somebody had cut a ramp; she wasn’t trusting the rest because it worked yesterday.

She checked that both husbands felt rested enough to go. They had eaten and used only small amounts of power that afternoon. Edrik agreed, provided they left if the building looked wrong.

"Good," she said. "I’m bringing a bag, not developing a death wish."

They took the empty smaller cart, leaving their packed travel bags at the shop. Cal walked with them, describing the approach while Dove checked the storefronts they passed. The street rose away from the creek, with tire shops and service bays on one side and a fenced storage lot on the other. The storm had left branches and signs scattered along the curb, but the pavement was dry.

The owner’s nephew opened the garage and stared at Dove until Edrik asked which bay they could use. The young adult deer beastman recovered quickly, wiping oily hands on his sleeves. Dove spared him a smile. An awkward hello was still better than a stranger grabbing her.

Dove asked the nephew to show her what was cleared for taking, what was for trade, and what belonged to customers. The left bay held two vehicles waiting for work, both off limits. The middle bay held loose loading equipment. The office and the shelves beside it contained surplus household and travel goods the owner wanted cleared.

"We can work with that," she said. "I like knowing which things will get me yelled at."

Thorne smiled and followed her to the shelves while Edrik checked the loading equipment with Cal. She found a stack of clean canvas bags, a sealed pack of work gloves, two intact insulated food carriers, and a folding stool that didn’t collapse when Thorne tested it.

There were damaged things too. A cooler smelled awful when she opened it, and she closed it again before anyone could suggest determination would fix the problem.

"That one has chosen violence," she said. "We’re leaving it to think about its behavior."

"These were cleared out of a delivery van," the nephew said. "There’s more in the bottom cupboard, but the door sticks."

"I brought two excellent solutions to that problem." Dove pointed Thorne toward it before agreeing to a trade for the sound carriers and bags. Payment would come from her existing ordinary stock before departure. The gloves, stool, and clean straps were free clearance goods, and she wasn’t leaving them behind just because Sprout had stopped counting.

Near the back of the middle bay, Cal found a portable loading ramp that looked promising until they turned it over. A long crack ran through one side. Edrik crouched beside it, touched the metal, and shook his head.

"Not for that weight," he said.

"Could you fix it?" Cal asked.

"I can reinforce it while I’m touching it. I can’t stay under a loaded truck to keep your ramp from failing. You need a sound one."

Cal considered that, then set the ramp aside.

Thorne found a shorter sound pair behind a stack of boards. They were heavy and awkward, but the width and fittings matched what Cal needed. The nephew confirmed the price, and Edrik helped move them to the clear floor for inspection. Nobody had to spend themselves empty making a ruined object seem safe.

While Cal inspected the ramps, Dove found plastic cups and a regional campground booklet in the office clearance pile. She tucked the booklet into her bag, remembering the lake pictures Iris had given her. Somewhere out there, people used to go away because they wanted a good weekend. She refused to believe every one of those places was ruined.

"Any hidden treasure you feel like mentioning?" she asked Sprout.

"Your storage task doesn’t require additional items."

"I wasn’t asking how to do the bare minimum. Never mind. I have eyes."

A bent metal shelf lip blocked the last cubby. Thorne touched the narrow edge and shaped it outward without shifting the next shelf. Edrik kept his palm on the sound upright, reinforcing it while Dove pulled the loose box clear. They released their powers before moving anything else.

"That took less out of you," she said when Thorne flexed his hand.

"I moved the piece I wanted this time."

She liked the quiet pride in his answer. All those fiddly clips had been leading somewhere.

Behind the shelf sat two sturdy thermoses, a box of ordinary utensils, and the cupboard the nephew had mentioned. Thorne eased its bent metal edge until Dove could open it. Inside was a sealed twelve-pack of large vacuum-insulated travel mugs, still in their shipping dividers.

"Those go too," the nephew said when she asked. "We need that corner for parts."

Dove checked every lid. Twelve sound mugs. Two for her husbands, one for her, and nine to sell with a drink instead of another boring cup that went cold in ten minutes.

"Would they count toward the drink target?" she asked Sprout.

"Only if you sell drinks. The mugs aren’t consumable."

"Thank God you caught me before I tried eating one."

She held up the biggest dark-blue mug for Edrik. "Yours. Hands off mine."

He took it as seriously as if she’d chosen him jewelry. "What if yours tastes better?"

"Then suffer beautifully. You’re good at it."

The cart held the clearance goods when they left. Cal had arranged transport for his ramps. Dove had turned one stuck cupboard into tomorrow’s comfort and nine future sales.

They paused at a shaded bench for water on the way back. Dove checked her wrapped thermoses and wedged the mug box where it couldn’t shift. She hadn’t dragged this much comfort home to break it against the next curb.

At the shop, she closed the curtain and stored the small salvage by touch, taking her time with the mug box. The paid carriers and bags would arrive after their trade goods were delivered. She washed the thermoses and three household mugs herself. Nine mugs stayed boxed for sale; these three were going to get used, starting at breakfast.

Then she opened the campground booklet to shake out a folded receipt and found a recent handwritten road warning tucked between the pages. One of the marked closures crossed the detour Cal planned to use tomorrow.