“What’s the problem?” Frank asked.
Marcoli lifted the lid on the big crate, and pulled out a many-folded piece of paper. “The directions for assembly,” he said mournfully, “they are impossible to understand. Even for something in English, it is . . .” He passed the sheet to Frank and threw up his hands.
Frank and Gerry both chuckled. “A law of nature, sir. I’ve no idea why, but these things are always written by people with no grasp of reality.”
“Also, please,” Marcoli went on, “what is a ‘Philips screwdriver’?”
Frank looked down at the instructions, which were written in English. Sure enough, they had been written by an up-timer. Probably one of the machine-shop guys, who’d assumed that everyone knew what a Philips screwdriver was.
“Gerry, you brought a toolkit, right?”
“Not with me now, but I got one back at the palazzo, sure. We should pass word back to include a Philips with these things?”
“I think we should,” said Frank, “although Allen wrenches would be even better, you ask me.” Studying the instructions, he shook his head. “Machinists and mechanics are almost as bad as computer geeks, when it comes to assuming that everyone else in the world shares their expertise.”
To Giovanna’s father, he explained: “Messer Marcoli, a Philips screwdriver is a special tool. We have one at the embassy. We’ll bring it and help set up the press.”
Giovanna came up then, standing close to Frank. Very close indeed. “You can make it work properly?”
“Oh, sure,” replied Frank, doing his level best to exude male-in-his-prime. “No sweat.”
Then he had to explain the colloquialism. That segued neatly into an explanation of “piece of cake,” which, in turn, segued into “cakewalk” and “milk run.”
All was right with the world, again. Better than ever, in fact. Frank was now quite confident that, between the gadgetry and the needs of coherent propaganda, he could postpone any real madness indefinitely. While Antonio Marcoli and his daughter might have been a bit short-changed in the common-sense department—more than a bit, in the father’s case—both of them were quite intelligent and were the kind of people who were interested in just about everything. Which meant . . .
Easily distracted. Serenely, Frank foresaw months of distraction, in the most distracting company he had ever met in his life. Oh, brave new world!
Chapter 15
Getting back to the embassy, Frank led his brothers up to their apartment. That was an odd notion right there; suddenly they had their own apartment, which was either a gigantic opportunity or put a whole lot more pressure on them to behave. Or, at least, on Frank. Sometimes, being the eldest sucked big-time.
“Okay, guys, time to plan.” Gerry was matter-of-fact about it. Frank realized with no little horror that his brother was actually serious. It’d be a lot simpler if he’d just stick to humping the legs of girls he ran into, he thought. Or worse, maybe he wanted to turn himself into a real hillbilly hard-ass, instead of just the wannabe he was now. Either way, the signs of testosterone poisoning were getting frickin’ obvious.
Frank paused to think for a moment. He had to handle this carefully, because there was a real possibility he’d send Gerry off to do the damn thing by himself. Chances were, Ron would go off with him, or at least do something similarly stupid like go handing out leaflets outside the doge’s palace.
And leaving aside the need to keep his younger brothers under control, Frank had to be seen doing something or he’d be out of luck real fast with . . .
That though was the real clincher. Cautious enough to keep Gerry and Ron from haring off and getting themselves killed or thrown into a dungeon somewhere—and guess who’d get the blame?—while still daring enough to impress Giovanna.
Worse than that, really. He had to do something daring enough to impress Antonio Marcoli. For all her own sprightliness and brains, Giovanna was obviously a girl who was much attached to and impressed by her father. His opinion of Frank would weight heavily with her.
Damn.
“Yeah, plan,” he said, vaguely, distracted by the very clear mental picture he suddenly had of Giovanna.