Herding Cats
Here's a little scene I wrote at my daughter's request for a Librarians-Leverage crossover a couple of years ago. I just found it again and thought I'd share.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m like herding cats.” The phrase and the note of exasperation in the low voice caught Nate Ford’s attention, since he felt exactly the same way at the moment.
Looking along the bar, he saw an older man with well-cut grey hair and a neat suit to match accept a snifter of brandy from the bartender. Since the few other patrons were gathered around the brightly lit Christmas tree by the window, Nate slid off his stool and walked down to the man.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Younger co-workers?” The man glanced over his shoulder at Nate, a quick yet somehow comprehensive survey. He gestured to the seat next to him.
“Jenkins,” he said by way of an introduction.
Nate nodded a greeting. “Ford,” he replied.
“I take it you have the same problem?” Jenkins asked.
Nate took a sip, savoring the taste of his whiskey. “Yeah. We finished a job yesterday and they all scattered before you could blink an eye. Holiday plans.” He didn’t make the air quotes, but they were obvious. “I don’t suppose they’ll be back till after New Year’s.”
“You don’t know for sure?” Jenkins lifted a quizzical eyebrow.
“We’re a …” he searched for the right explanation. “…a loose partnership. We come together to handle certain jobs, but it’s not a normal business.” That was an understatement.
Jenkins smiled and Nate caught a roguish glint in his eye. “Yes, I can appreciate that. Mine also tend to go off on their own tangents at times. They each think their approach is the right one for accomplishing the job.” He sighed.
Nate lifted his glass to him. “To a fellow cat-herder.”
Jenkins solemnly clinked his glass. “To a fellow cat-herder.” He paused a moment, then said, “I was about to have a solitary dinner at an excellent restaurant down the block. They do a superb duck à l’orange. Would you care to join me?”
Nate grinned at him. Suddenly, two days before Christmas didn’t seem so lonely. “I’d be delighted.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m like herding cats.” The phrase and the note of exasperation in the low voice caught Nate Ford’s attention, since he felt exactly the same way at the moment.
Looking along the bar, he saw an older man with well-cut grey hair and a neat suit to match accept a snifter of brandy from the bartender. Since the few other patrons were gathered around the brightly lit Christmas tree by the window, Nate slid off his stool and walked down to the man.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Younger co-workers?” The man glanced over his shoulder at Nate, a quick yet somehow comprehensive survey. He gestured to the seat next to him.
“Jenkins,” he said by way of an introduction.
Nate nodded a greeting. “Ford,” he replied.
“I take it you have the same problem?” Jenkins asked.
Nate took a sip, savoring the taste of his whiskey. “Yeah. We finished a job yesterday and they all scattered before you could blink an eye. Holiday plans.” He didn’t make the air quotes, but they were obvious. “I don’t suppose they’ll be back till after New Year’s.”
“You don’t know for sure?” Jenkins lifted a quizzical eyebrow.
“We’re a …” he searched for the right explanation. “…a loose partnership. We come together to handle certain jobs, but it’s not a normal business.” That was an understatement.
Jenkins smiled and Nate caught a roguish glint in his eye. “Yes, I can appreciate that. Mine also tend to go off on their own tangents at times. They each think their approach is the right one for accomplishing the job.” He sighed.
Nate lifted his glass to him. “To a fellow cat-herder.”
Jenkins solemnly clinked his glass. “To a fellow cat-herder.” He paused a moment, then said, “I was about to have a solitary dinner at an excellent restaurant down the block. They do a superb duck à l’orange. Would you care to join me?”
Nate grinned at him. Suddenly, two days before Christmas didn’t seem so lonely. “I’d be delighted.”