Wayne glanced at his blonde companion as she dusted off the book, seeming to find some worth in it. He stared again at the shelves, wondering if any of them were useful or if they were fiction. His practical nature meant that he’d grown quickly out of the storytelling stage, and he preferred to learn things that were useful rather than fall back into an imaginative scene. That wasn’t to say he was against all forms of entertainment, but he didn’t have the patience to try to read a book that he wasn’t going to glean anything from.
Amy disappeared while he was contemplating the worn and warped spines of some of the more ill-cared for books, but when she returned it was with weird tools in her hands and a gesture toward the television. Wayne blinked at the small tools, obviously more curious about them than the heavy box, but he nodded and wandered over to the television.
“Ain’t so good with the technical stuff,” the cowboy admitted, but he moved the television and set it down in such a way that she could get to the sides with the screwdriver and other doodads. “D’ya think I could have those pliers when we’re done with this?” he added, knowing that he might be able to get some use out of them. He stood back uncertainly, wondering what part he could play in disassembling the TV. He wasn’t used to working with human things beyond carts, but he would be able to do any heavy moving she needed.
“What do ya think’s inside there?” he asked.
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