Write-Off

So, finally the building was quiet. The three o'clock bell had just rung for the change of classes, and Jo-An had run off somewhere, probably to watch the girls' varsity team practice as an excuse to talk with Laura. She'd been doing this quite often the last week or two. I realized, however, that I didn't like the way my office was arranged, so I decided this would be the best time to move things around. I pushed and wiggled the desk, table and bookcase into different positions. Much better, I thought. I put my old computer on the floor near the door, and positioned the new one just where I wanted it. I had left the desk out about a foot from the wall so I could plug in the power strip when I knew where I wanted it. The power strip had been plugged into a different outlet before, so I got down on my knees, reaching behind the desk. Damn, I thought. The plug won't go into the outlet. I thought I had it upside down, so I tried again. Nothing. The prongs fit, but the plug wasn't flush with the plate. I ran my fingers across the plastic plate. Ha! There was hardened paint or putty on the electrical plate. I crawled back out, and got my tool kit from my briefcase. I knew I had to be careful about getting metal into the outlet, so I decided to unscrew the plate and clean it separately. After scraping what appeared to be putty from the plate, I crawled back behind the desk. I noticed that the wall behind the plate was painted the same new color as the wall. That's funny, I thought. That would mean that Roland had removed the plate when he painted, which he would do, being very meticulous and thorough. But how did the putty get on the plate? And it wasn't old putty, because it hadn't yellowed, but was new and white. Then, I remembered something Jo-An had told me a few months ago about Kevin making holes in the wall. I thought she had said she had needed to patch things up. I ran my hand lightly across the wall, working it in an arc, widening, until I was standing. I found several rough areas that felt like patches. From a distance, they were not noticeable, because Roland had used a textured paint that gave the walls a bumpy, sand-like appearance. It was very attractive, and covered a lot of flaws at the same time, a plus for old buildings like this one. The putty is from those patches. Now that I was satisfied, I knelt back down to screw the plate back on. But around the outlet opening, the wall was rougher than anywhere else. I was still curious, a trait that often gets me into trouble, Louise reminds me, so using my screwdriver, I gently pried the heavy vinyl baseboard loose from the wall. The thin baseboard had been glued on, and the glue was already cracking from the dryness in the building, so I didn't have to pull very much. Behind the vinyl, the wall was streaked with several small reddish-brown stains, almost like someone had splashed some paint there by accident. This was probably the color of the wall before, I thought, and finished putting the plate back. I shoved my desk up against the baseboard, which helped to hold the vinyl in place until I could get some rubber cement. I stood back, admiring my renovations. It had been a tiring day, and I was thinking of going home, when Jo-An burst into the outer office.