There’s not much but the sound of my boots on the gravel and the Cicadas in the field. I see the orange glow from the old radio just inside the barn door. It’s never really turned up enough to hear, but it means John is out working.
I walk in to find him working a sanding block along one of the hull planks of his dad’s old boat.
“I am, just wanted to let you know.”
John nods but keeps his focus.
“How are things going out here?”
“Well enough I guess.”
I scan the walls of the barn, covered with tools and smaller projects in various stages of completion. Some dusty from neglect, some fresh and bright.
“How do you find the time for all this John?”
“Didn’t know time needed to be found I guess.”
“Fair enough” I say, “Still, not sure why it’s so hard to do sometimes.”
John pauses and runs his hand along the hull. “Maybe because we have to fight for everything good in our lives. Maybe, the answers are inside us, we just need to pay attention.”
I drop my head and smile at my boots, “Yeah, I’m getting a little tired of hearing that.”
John lifts the sanding block and gets back to the task at hand. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Not your fault I guess. Well, I should head in and make sure the girls are ready for bed.”
“Give ‘em a squeeze for me.”
“Will do. ‘Night John.”
Wonder what’s going on? Start here -> The Flood – Prologue