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Show 42 On his way into Heilmann's Butcher Shop, Karl noticed a pot of lead bubbling on one of the iron sidewalk doors that covered the entrance to Heilmann's cellar. The pot hung from a tripod; a blowtorch beneath it heated the lead. Karl figured some plumbers must be working in Heilmann's cellar, because plumbers used molten lead for a lot of repair jobs. On his way out of Heilmann's Butcher Shop, Karl had forgotten about the pot of boiling lead on the flat sidewalk door. One of the plumbers in the cellar must have forgotten about it, too -- just at that moment the man came up the cellar stairs and raised the iron door from underneath. The blowtorch and tripod got knocked over, and the falling pot sprayed a thin layer of molten lead onto Karl's bare toes. Screaming from the shock of scalding lead on his skin, Karl hopped on his undamaged foot while the lead solidified between his toes. The plumber's astonished face appeared above the edge of the door, and Karl, ashamed to have the man see him crying, ran across Canaan Avenue to begin the long climb up Center Street. Although the lead had cooled quickly, the burning in Karl's toes hurt worse each minute. He moaned out loud as he hobbled up the hill on the heel of his left foot. The distance from Heilmann's to his home was a quarter mile; by the time Karl limped through his |
