There was no question in Mom and Dad's minds the next morning that Zach needed a day off from the nursery, though Zach himself felt ready to go after eleven hours of sleep. He thought it was pretty funny that he had fallen asleep outside with Paws.
There was some question, however, about just what Dad would do with him. He had called Lia, but Jayda and Marissa were sick today, so taking Zach to their house was not an option. Zach would have to stay with him, it appeared.
"Why don't you take him out and do something fun?" Mom suggested as she prepared for work. "As a reward for helping out at the nursery. You were planning to be at the beach today, anyway." She thought a moment. "How about the Boeing factory? He would love that."
Dad tapped a finger on his chin and turned to Zach, who was finishing his breakfast. "What do you think, Zach?"
"A factory?" he asked skeptically.
"Nothing spectacular," Dad shrugged, "just an airplane factory. And the whole thing's inside."
"Inside the biggest building in the world," Mom noted.
"Where they assemble jumbo jets," Dad continued, "but since it's inside…"
"Okay, yeah," Zach agreed with mild enthusiasm. "I like airplanes."
"All right, then," Dad said. "I'll give Derek a call and let him know he's on his own today." He kissed Mom goodbye, and she tousled Zach's hair before she left. That happened every time she went to work now; Zach was almost used to it.
Dad left a message on Derek's voicemail, and then they drove north half an hour through Seattle to the city of Everett, to the Boeing factory and airstrip on the western edge of the city. Zach had never seen so many planes in one place before. Some were small, but many were gigantic. Two dozen or more were parked outside the factory, near a runway where Dad said new planes that were being tested would take off and land from time to time.
Dad bought them tickets for the guided tour through the factory. He had to leave his phone in the car—phones weren't allowed on the tour—and then they joined a small group and rode a bus briefly to reach the massive structure. When they stepped inside the factory, it wasn't like being inside at all, the place was so enormous. They saw workers assembling sections of passenger planes so huge that Zach couldn't imagine how the machines could fly without falling out of the sky. Everything there was big, it seemed.
"You were right, Dad," Zach said as they finished the tour an hour and a half later and made their way back to the pickup. "That was awesome. Even if it was inside," he added.
Back in the pickup again, Dad retrieved his phone. "So, what's next, Zach? We still have all day. Mom won't get home before 7:30 tonight."
Zach considered a moment. "Can we ride the ferry, Dad?"
"Sure," he responded. "The ferry at last!" He glanced down at the phone. "Looks like Derek left a message."
Dad listened to the message before starting the pickup. Zach stared out the window at the tail wings of the planes parked in the distance as they towered above their surroundings. If he had known how much fun having parents would be, how many amazing things they would do together, he would have found Mom and Dad sooner—if he had known he could, that was. If only he had known sooner that they were still alive, that Grandfather had been wrong…
Dad got a worried look on his face as he listened to his message. After a minute, he hung up the phone, started the pickup, and cast a troubled glance at Zach. "Something's wrong with Derek," he said. "He wants me to call him, but I think we'll just swing by there on our way to the ferry. It's hard enough to get him to say what's bothering him in person, let alone on the phone."
They drove back into Seattle, and Dad took them to a neighborhood filled with large, impressive houses, stopping in front of one with a long front yard. Trenches freshly dug traced brown around its edges. Derek and his son Douglas were in the yard, near the house. Derek's arms and legs were covered in dirt. With an axe he was chopping at something in a trench he had dug part-way, Douglas holding his shovel for him a few steps to the side. New, white pipes lay in a pile in the center of the yard.
Derek looked over at Dad and Zach and wiped the sweat off his forehead as they approached.
"I got your message," Dad said. "What's going on?"
Derek slung the axe onto his shoulder. "Look down here," he told Dad, gesturing into the trench. Dad took a look and whistled. Zach bent over the trench, too—a network of long, thick roots had grown like a web over, under, and into the pipe that Derek was trying to dig out. "And that's not the worst of them," Derek said. "I already chopped out a couple of bunches twice that thick. And judging by those trees over there, I'm guessing we'll hit a few more before we get the rest of this old system out."
"So that's why they needed new sprinkler lines," Dad observed. "Do you need me to get you the chainsaw?"
To Zach's surprise, Derek, who was always laughing and joking about something, scowled at Dad. "No, Craig! I don't need you to get me the chainsaw! It's right there in my truck! I'd be using it right now if it would do any good. I need you to help me chop these roots out! I need you to help me get these pipes laid! They're expecting us to have this job done today, like you told them we would! Their daughter's wedding is next month, and they need time for the grass to grow back!"
Dad seemed confused. "I left you a message. Zach and I—"
"Hey," Derek interrupted him, "you accepted this job on Wednesday because we both thought that since you were back from the beach early, we could squeeze it in. Well, now we're squeezing. And I still don't have Mrs. Moonan's walkway finished yet, and you know she's going to be in a tizzy if we don't get it done. So I need your help!"
"Derek," Dad began—but he didn't seem to know what to say. He looked to Zach as if for support. Zach was taken aback, too. Derek never got angry—at least not when Zach had been around him. "Look, I'll come out and work on it tomorrow, but I need to do like you've been telling me, go be with my son. You need to spend time with your kids—I said so even before we met Zach. Now I need to spend time with my kid. We've got to keep our priorities right here."
Derek eased his axe to the ground and folded his arms. Somehow that made him look even larger than he really was. He took a step toward Dad, who bravely stood his ground, his hands on his hips.
"Craig," Derek rumbled, "I've been covering for you without complaining when you took days off to track down where your boy came from, and whenever you left work early to pick him up from school…"
"Wait a second," Dad argued, "you agreed that was—"
"Absolutely necessary, yes I did. That was fine. And did I complain when you said you'd be gone a couple of days to take him to meet your parents? Did I hesitate when you asked if I minded that you take this whole week off to show him the coast for the first time? Would I have even called you back today if we didn't have to get this done?"
"Now, don't make this a contest between the business and my son," Dad warned, but Derek just laughed—an angry, barking laugh.
"Craig, your boy is standing right here! So is mine! This isn't any contest! It's just what we have to do! We're still in business because we get the work done when we say we'll get it done. And because we do good work. And you signed us up for this job, remember?"
Dad gazed into the trench again. "I didn't know about the roots," he mumbled weakly.
"And you thought Zach was going to be with Lia today, I get that. But I can't do this without your help."
Dad glanced down at his clothes, a T-shirt and shorts. "I didn't bring my work clothes."
It was a flimsy excuse—even Zach recognized that and raised an eyebrow.
With a sigh of resignation, Dad turned to Zach. "Well, pal, it looks like we're going to have to put the ferry on hold again."
Zach shrugged. He had accepted that conclusion already. "It's okay, Dad. I like helping you guys."
With that, Zach started to work, Derek sending him to grab a second shovel and instructing him to help Douglas dig as be
st they could through the mess of roots just below the surface of the soil. Dad attacked the larger roots with the axe, and Derek began ripping out old pipes, using loppers to cut out roots that had penetrated them and now held them in place.
Shanice showed up an hour later and dropped off sack lunches for all four of them. They ate quickly and hurried back to work, Dad and Derek occasionally complaining about how much the roots were slowing their progress.
Finally, having fought through the last of the tree roots, Zach and Douglas tore out the last piece of the old sprinkler line and tossed it aside. Douglas was fun to work with; like his dad, he made jokes about everything. He was a good worker, too, except when he would start making a joke and forget what he was doing. He always jumped right back to his duties, though, when Zach reminded him.
The two dads laid the last section of new pipe, measuring and cutting and gluing with expert speed, assembling sprinklers onto the pipes so that the sprinklers would hide just below the grass when it grew back. Zach and Douglas, each with a shovel, followed behind them and scooped dirt back into the trenches to cover the pipes.
At last they finished the job. Zach was starved; it had to be after dinner time.
"Zach," Dad said, handing him his phone, "give your mom a call while we're packing up our tools. Tell her we'll be home later than she will. We still need to finish Mrs. Moonan's walkway."
Stomach beginning to rumble, Zach called while Dad, Derek, and Douglas loaded the pickups, and they drove twenty minutes to Mrs. Moonan's house, a much smaller but tasteful place not far from the eastern shore of Lake Washington. The walkway was carved out, but Dad and Derek had to lay flat stones in it, fitting them together tightly and tucking mortar neatly between them. Zach found the process fascinating in spite of his aching stomach; he watched them work as he and Douglas took turns hauling stones to them from a pile by the side of Mrs. Moonan's driveway.
Dad and Derek finished the job just as the sun began to drop behind the Olympic Mountains, the light shifting slowly from orange to red. Douglas and Zach raced each other to see who could put away the most tools, and then it was time to head home.
"Derek," Dad said, approaching the taller man before they parted ways, "look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you hanging today. I'm just, you know, getting used to this fatherhood thing."
Derek gave Dad a thoughtful look. "Hey… You're a new dad. It takes some getting used to. Just be thankful you don't have to change any diapers." He grinned at Zach and clapped Dad once on the shoulder with a friendly, "See you Monday, partner!" and hopped into his pickup.
Douglas clapped Zach on the shoulder in imitation of his dad, almost knocking Zach over. "Later, Zach!" he said, and climbed into the pickup beside his dad.
They drove off, and Dad and Zach lifted themselves into Dad's Mazda, worn out after a very long day. Without a word, they drove home in the deepening dusk.
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 64