“Mario called while you were out,” Sherry said. “He wants you to hire one more worker to help him put up the fence in the back yard.”
“There’s no chance of that.” I said. “He already has one helper. If you have one worker you get things done. If you hire two workers you get things half done. If you hire three, you usually end up doing it yourself.”
Mario, my sometimes yard worker, showed up a few minutes later.
“Mr. Dennis, will you give me a ride to meet Pedro at the taco place?”
“Do you mean Wood Leg Pedro—the guy with a wooden leg?”
“Yeah. That’s him. He says he needs some advice about a problem and I thought I’d get you to go with me because you got plenty experience with problems.”
At the taco stand Pedro came right to the point.
“I been seeing a girl and now she say she is going to have a baby,” he said.
“Ooh,” Mario said. “You in big trouble, Wood Leg.”
“I’m not sure,” Pedro said. “See, she admits she was seeing Oscar while she was seeing me but she says one of us is gonna be the daddy and we got to work it out between us.”
“How you plan to do that?” Mario asked.
“I don’t know,” Wood Leg said, sadly.
“Could you do a DNA test?” I asked.
“That stuff is only for TV, not for Belize,” Mario said. “I got the easy answer to this problem.”
“What’s that?” Pedro asked.
“Well,” Mario said. “If that baby born with a wood leg it is yours for sure. If he ain’t got a wood leg it must be Oscar’s.”
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