"What love life?" Oliver said and listened to Mark crow about Duke.
Mark could probably explain this sexual strangeness, but it was none of
his business. After a Guinness, Oliver felt more like himself, but as
he walked through the Old Port he passed an office supply store, closed
for the weekend, and he remembered the ruler. Decorate? Could you even
buy a wooden ruler any more? It was disturbing. Too much. He put the
experience in the back of his mind and resumed working on the box and
the mailing list program.
On Wednesday, he entered the office store and asked if they sold wooden
rulers. An elderly lady with exaggerated make-up showed him a blue box
in a far corner of the store. "We sell mostly plastic ones," she said.
"But some prefer these. They last." He bought an eighteen inch ruler
with an inlaid brass edge. "For my mistress," he said, "yuk, yuk." The
woman gave him change without replying.
He sprayed the ruler with black paint he had in the cellar. "I wouldn't
call it decorated," he said to Verdi the next day. The dovetail
template caught his eye. He took it down to the cellar and found a can
of Rustoleum.Using the template as a stencil, he sprayed a pattern of
triangles along both sides of the ruler.
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