“‘You’re meant to be helping people,’” she read, then noticed a second,smaller inscription plaque at the bottom, near the base. Wax winced as she read this one too.
“‘Ain’t no fellow who regretted giving it one extra shake,’” she read, “‘but you can bet every guy has regretted giving one too few.’ I can’t believe you used that quote.”
“The lower plaque can be removed,” Wax said quickly. “We’ll change it up now and then too. But… well, that quotewassomething he explicitly asked for.”
She stood up and shook her head, but he could tell she was already thinking this would be a good place to put some of the more choice quotes she’drecorded.
Wax remained standing, looking up at the visage of his friend. The dull ache remained. Always would. But Wax had been living his life. He, Steris, and the kids were preparing for another tour of the Roughs. A political tour, to drum up support for their bid to become a province in the changing face of the Basin.
Two years of hard work had staved off civil war. Real progress had finally led to a national assembly for the cities of the Basin. The Roughs were next. Some there wanted to be their own country; he hoped to persuade them they’dbe better united.
The gate to the fence slammed, and shortly Marasi stepped up to the statue, wearing Wayne’s actual lucky hat. Wayne had left it to her. A last-minute addition to the will, they’dbeen told. At first, Wax had thoughthehadn’t been left anything specific. Then certain items had started… showing up.
He held up the latest one for Marasi to see.
“A desiccated frog?” Marasi asked.
“Taxidermied,” Wax said. “Was in my coat pocket this morning. Along with a note apologizing. Apparently the instructions had been for alivefrog, but they hadn’t quite been able to bring themselves to do it.”
“You ever find out who he paid to do this?” Marasi asked, taking the frog by one leg.
“I assume it’s the men who handle his estate,” Wax said, “from how polite and apologetic the notes are. I haven’t had the heart to confront them about it.”
“You should just let it keep happening,” Steris said.
He frowned as she stepped up to him. “You don’t think it’s gross? Last time was half a sandwich.”
“It is obviously gross,” she said. “But… well, it shows remarkable planning on Wayne’s part. It’s the sort of thing we should encourage.”
“He’s dead,” Marasi pointed out.
“It’s the sort of thing we should respect, then,” Steris said.
Marasi eyed the frog. “They say that in gift-giving, it’s the thought that counts. So… um… how do we interpret this?”
Wax sighed. “I’m sure they’ll run out of items on his list soon enough.”
Both women stared at him.
“Did youknowWayne?” Marasi asked. “When in his life did heeverlet a joke die?”
It was… a fair point. And from what they’dlearned about Wayne’s remarkable finances, he’dhad the money to keep this joke going for a long, long time. And, well, things like the frog were aggravating. And endearing. Both at once.
Just like Wayne had been.
“Are you ready for your trip, Marasi?” Steris asked.
Marasi grimaced. “Physically? Yes. We’re packed. But mentally? Emotionally?”
“You’ll do wonderfully,” Steris said. “You’re going to be the best rusting ambassador the damn Basin ever had!”
Marasi cocked her head.
“Using respectful language,” Steris explained, looking up at the statue of Wayne, “considering the location.”
“She’s right,” Wax said to Marasi. “You’re exactly what we need. A Basin woman with a Malwish partner. A distinguished public servant with a record for being fair but tough. The leaders of the Southern nations will listen to you.”
Marasi nodded, her expression firm.