Huxley parks the car and I jump out, super excited to see the tall ax-wielding man. The town keeps him up so that he always looks in pristine condition. His big thick brown beard is the same tone as his leather boots. With an ax over one shoulder he smiles out into the abyss. Perfect Paul.
"Come on," I say pulling on Huxley's hand as he's much slower to get out of the automobile. "We have to get a picture."
I yank him all the way to the base of statue block, a large square of stone. Thankfully there's no one else around this time — sometimes Paul has a line — and we're able to go right to the front. Stopping between the two flower pots with bushy plants, we stand side by side and smile as I use my camera to take the weirdly angled selfie making sure to get Paul's face in the shot as well
