Page 8 of Truth or Spare

“Yeah… I can believe that part pretty easily,” Dewey said. “Let’s try to finish these shoes without sending you to the hospital.” He passed him the bottle then pointed at the hole on the nozzle. “Aim thatinsidethe shoes,” he said slowly.

“Got it, boss,” Theo said with a dazzling smile and gave it a test spray.

He was able to finish the rest of the shoes without incident and there was time to kill before Cassie arrived with lunch so Dewey decided to assess Theo’s bowling skills.

“What are you, a 12?” Dewey had guessed as he retrieved Theo’s fancy leather Oxfords from under the counter. He had loaned Theo his spare boots but they had to be at least a size too big.

Theo held up his hands. “Possibly.”

“Possibly? What’s your European shoe size? That should be pretty simple to convert,” Dewey assumed, but Theo looked even more puzzled. “Let’s see what these say, then,” Dewey said and searched Theo’s shoes for a size number. “All I can find is ‘Conti, TVH0017.’ Are those your initials? What’s the V for?” Dewey had asked as he studied the inside of Theo’s leather shoe.

Theo’s cheeks turned pink and he winced sheepishly. “Possibly. An Italian gentleman in London made those for me,” he whispered with an apologetic wrinkle of his nose. “I’m sure one of these will fit,” he said, dismissing his shoes as he planted his fists on his hips and surveyed the racks behind them.

“Go ahead and knock yourself out, Cinderella,” Dewey told him and stood back while Theo tried on several pairs.

Eventually, Theo confirmed that he was a size 12 and pranced behind the counter, strangely delighted as he tested out his new shoes.

“What do you think, Brooks? Am I ready to bowl?” he asked, then stretched an arm across his chest like he was about to go for a run or lift a weight.

“Sure…” Dewey replied with a toss of his chin at the lanes. “Let’s see what you’ve got. I’ll turn on 2 for you.”

“Ausgezeichnet!” Theo cheered excitedly before hurrying around the counter and jogging over. “Here we go!” he said as he selected a ball from the stand behind lane 2.

“Here we go,” Dewey parroted, his brows climbing up his head as he waited to see what kind of bowler the baffling Austrian turned out to be.

Dewey’s expectations were low, but they should have been a lot lower.

“Wait!” Dewey called and hurried over when Theo drew the ball back, keeping it even with his shoulder. “What are you gonna do? Shot-put that at the pins?”

“Oh. Is this not the right way?” Theo had asked cluelessly.

“No, that’s not the right way,” Dewey replied with a shake of his head. He took the ball and gestured for Theo to stand back. “Like this,” he said and slowly went through the proper motion before letting the ball go. It rolled in an easy arc, striking the #3 pin and taking out the 2, 5, 6, and 10.

“Klasse!” Theo had declared, earning a soft grunt from Dewey.

“Not really, but roll the ball, Theo. Don’t throw it or you’ll dent my lane.”

“I see. How about a quick game? I’m keen to learn more,” Theo said with a hopeful look.

Dewey was tempted. Nothing had ever looked as ridiculously wrong as watching Theo lobbing balls into the gutter like his arm had fallen asleep. For a moment, Dewey imagined how easy and fun it would be to show off and goof around with Theo.

Wednesdays were one of their slowest days and there were fewer shoes to process in the morning because Monday and Tuesday nights were quiet too. He almost said yes, but his thumb was already throbbing from that first roll and Dewey was secretly smarting because itshouldhave been a strike. He wouldhave been laughed at, if anyone who knew him better had been watching.

“You go ahead and keep practicing. I might as well get the deposit ready to run over to the bank since you’re here to watch the front.”

“Very well, then,” Theo said with his usual charm and offered Dewey an elegant half bow. “Just…hollerif you need me,” he added, smiling cheekily and looking tickled to use another piece of American slang.

“I’ll holler if I need you,” Dewey confirmed as he saluted Theo, escaping to his office with his tail between his legs.

Chapter Five

An hour later, Theo was feeling like an honorary American and on his way to fitting in at Brooks Family Bowling. Their first patron of the day had arrived and Theo had successfully checked an older gentleman named Keith into his “usual” lane.

Dressed in overalls and a ratty thermal top, Keith had been amusingly suspicious of Theo from the moment he walked through the front doors.

“Who are you?” he demanded in a whisper, narrowing his eyes at Theo. “Who authorized you to work here?”

“Knock it off,” Dewey told Keith. “He’s wearing a name tag and this isn’t the Pentagon. He doesn’t need authorization to work here.”

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