“This is Theodore Johnson,” said his boss.
Cherry Lane extended her hand. “How ya doin’, Theodore?”
Armpit stood a head taller than the mayor. He had broad shoulders and thick muscular arms. At one time in his life he had been a little overweight, but all his digging and sweating had long since burned away any excess fat.
“Just fine,” he said as he wiped his dirty hand on his shorts. “Sorry, I’m kind of sweaty.”
“That’s all right,” the mayor said, and shook his hand.
Afraid of his own strength, Armpit tried not to grip the elderly woman’s hand too hard, and was a little taken aback by the firmness of her handshake.
“I read all about the terrible things that went on at Camp Green Lake,” she told him. “I want you to know that I admire you for getting thr