by Paul A. Rice
They also carried out some work on the outside of the farm, too. Red had a large wood-burning hot water tank, the old boiler was in need of some attention and so they provided it. Mike replaced the pipework and Ken cleaned out the large, blackened hearth underneath the old tank. After they had laid fresh bricks and refurbished the wood store next to the boiler, the three men had what Jane laughingly described as ‘A wood chopping frenzy.’ Red took Mike around the farm; using the pickup truck they gathered a great pile of dry wood from the far-flung corners of the property. They would bring it back to the house where Ken would be waiting with the axe. He had found it in the barn, and after getting Mike to fiddle with the machine, he’d used the previously-broken grinder to give the blade of the axe a very keen edge.
Jane watched as her husband stood bare-chested and attacked the ever-growing pile of wood that Red and Mike kept on fetching to the house. The sweat ran down his back and chest as he stood in the warm sunlight.
Ken looked at her and smiled. ‘Ah, that feels good!’ he said. ‘It’s been ages since I’ve chopped this much wood, it’s the best feeling in the world, my love – I thought that I might have been getting a bit too old for this type of thing.’
She looked at the bulging muscles on his arms and shoulders and shook her head at the ridiculous idea. With a soft laugh, she fetched him a glass of cool water. Ken drank it in one long gulp and then turned back to his heap of wood to carry on chopping. In short order he had turned it into a neatly stacked pile of logs. Impaling the axe into the heavily scarred stump that he was using as a chopping block, he plonked himself down next to Jane and together they sat and waited for the next load of wood to arrive.
By the evening they had cleared most of the deadwood from around the farm and Ken had managed to fill the wood store to the brim. The large pile of logs and kindling would last them a long time. All they had to do was light the fire under the boiler and there would be an almost-endless supply of hot water.
The last jobs they undertook were all about the outside of the old place. Red painted the exterior walls of the farmhouse with a white, weather-proof paint. Mike fixed up the outside lights and Ken refitted some of the old wooden tiles on the roof. Red called them ‘shingles’ and stood below as Ken passed him all the ones that were past their best. He and Red took a trip into town and found some suitable replacements in the hardware store. It was a busy time, and before they knew it another two weeks had passed.
Finally it was decided that they were done, and so, after cleaning all the tools and packing things away, they retired onto the freshly-painted porch with a drink. The four of them sat in satisfied silence and watched the golden sunset as it splashed onto the hills in the distance. Red looked out across the yard, glancing at the pots lining the porch. They were filled with an array of beautiful plants and flowers, provided by Jane’s loving touch.
He looked up at Mike and said, ‘This is so beautiful, it’s just like a real house now, I’m so lucky! Why’ve you done this thing for me, yo’all don’t owe me nothing?’ His voice had deepened somewhat over the last two weeks and they heard it tremble slightly as he spoke.
Mike leaned over and patted him on his shoulder, saying: ‘Like we said before, Red – we’re around for a bit, and besides, this is a good place to be. As long as you’re happy to have us, then we’ll be happy to hang around for a while.’
Red nodded silently and looked around the three faces of his new-found friends. He looked quite overcome.
Ken, in order to stop any further embarrassment, said, ‘Anyway, all the hard work is done now, guys. I think that tomorrow we should all have some fun – how does a bit of shooting and fishing sound?’
The men agreed wholeheartedly, but Jane said she would give it a miss. ‘I have to go into town for a bit as there are a few things we need, so I’ll probably go in first thing after breakfast, if that’s okay?’ she said, with a smile.
They agreed and proceeded to talk happily about the adventures of the forthcoming day. After a while, Mike asked Red if he would like to watch some TV. The young man’s eyes lit up. ‘Yessir!’ he said. ‘I only seen it once or twice before, have you got one?’
Mike grinned and then took him over to the barn where they clambered up the steps into the RV. As he reached the top of the steps, Mike looked back from the doorway and shouted across. ‘We won’t be too long, folks – is that okay?’ They laughed, waved their agreement and watched as the two ‘kids’ happily bounded into the vehicle.
As the door of the van shut behind his friend, Ken turned to Jane. ‘Thanks for everything, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘It’s been a really good experience, hasn’t it? I mean, we’ve done something positive here, haven’t we?’
She saw the pleasure in his eyes and agreed. ‘Yes, yes we have. Red seems like a different person already, doesn’t he?’ she said. ‘He seems calmer, more thoughtful, and his voice is changing, too, I don’t mean the tone, that’s just him maturing, I mean his accent, it’s less jerky, you know?’
Ken nodded in agreement, and said, ‘Yeah, this whole thing is weird because it just seems to be right, to fit. Perhaps you’re right, perhaps this is exactly what we are supposed to be doing – maybe this change is the one that’s been missing all along.’ After discussing it for a while longer, they decided to continue as they were and wait to see what lay in store for them.
In the meantime they would make the most of things and try and enjoy their new life. Together, over a cold beer or two, they sat and watched the dusk approach, smiling softly as they listened to Mike and Red howl with laughter at some cheap TV show or another.
24
Tori
The following day they all gathered on the porch and tucked into the fried breakfast which Ken had cooked. He said, ‘Always make sure that you do the cooking on a Sunday morning, Red, that’s the way to keep the woman in your life sweet, my friend!’ He winked at the young man who sat opposite.
Red murmured a reply through a mouthful of bacon and fried eggs. ‘Yessir, I will – it’ll be fine to cook for my woman!’
Jane saw the look in his eye and realised that perhaps Red was not such a ‘boy’ after all. She nearly laughed but just managed to hide it with a fake cough into her paper napkin. Ken saw her expression and raised his eyebrows. She gave him a slight shake of the head; he smiled and nodded before winking again, this time straight at her. The spark of mischievousness glinted in his eye and Jane couldn’t stop herself from laughing any longer.
‘What the hell are you two idiots laughing about now? Watch this pair, Red – they’re like a couple of kids!’ Mike said, nodding towards Ken and Jane, who were now giggling like crazy.
Red gave them a wide grin and mopped his plate clean with a chunk of bread. ‘I know, sir,’ he said. ‘But I like it, it makes me feel happy. I like it when people play around!’ He popped the bread into his mouth and rose from the table to help Ken take the dishes into the kitchen.
It was a beautiful day without a cloud in sight. The soft wind blew in from the east, bringing the fresh smell of new grass wafting over the house. Mike sat back in his chair and raised his long legs in order to rest his feet on the wooden hand rail that surrounded the porch. ‘Jeez, this place is beautiful isn’t it?’ I think that I could stay here forever,’ he said, stretching his arms out to sit with hands clasped behind his head.
He was the picture of contentment and was soon joined by Red – the boy sat next to him and almost immediately mimicked Mike’s posture. They looked like a set of not-so-identical twins as they sat there and watched the world go by. Ken nodded at them and Jane smiled in acknowledgement.
A few minutes later she asked Ken for the pickup keys, saying that she was going into town and that she would be back later.
Red said, ‘Do you need some company, ma’am; I’ll gladly come and help, ifen you like?’
Jane told him to stay put. ‘No thanks, Red,’ she said. ‘I just fancy having a few hours of ‘girl time’, you boys go and p
lay and I’ll come and find you later on!’
Ken laughed, saying: ‘By saying ‘girl time’, Jane means that she’s going shopping. Red, if you want my advice, then you’ll stay well away from that activity, buddy!’
Jane smiled sweetly at him, and then, putting on a false flounce, headed for the truck. The men grinned and waved as she wheel-spun out of the barn and shot off down the track. They saw her wave back through the open side window and all three of them laughed again.
‘They’s a strange thing, ain’t they, wimmen? Nice, but they’re still strange!’ Red said, as he looked at his new friends. He grinned wildly at Mike’s reply.
‘Yeah, strange and then some, Red,’ the Australian joked. ‘Strange is the word alright, very strange indeed!’
They sat and finished their drinks on the porch whilst Ken went and collected the .22 rifle and some ammunition. Seeing the rifle in Ken’s hands, Red stood up and went into the house to collect his father’s shotgun. They laid the weapons on the table whilst Ken gave the young man a quick lesson on the workings of the small rifle. Red was a natural and happily repaid the compliment with the old twelve-gauge. They had plenty of ammunition and decided upon a bit of target practice with the twenty-two. Red had never fired a rifle but soon mastered the hang of it; it wasn’t long before the old fizzy drink cans were flying through the air with every shot. Red fetched a couple of lids from the empty paint cans and the men had a great time throwing them up in the air and blasting them with the shotgun. Red was extremely skilled at the art of shooting aerial targets. Mike and Ken were easily bested by him.
‘Bloody-hell, kid… you should take that up professionally!’ Mike said, as he watched Red’s fluid actions send yet another lid home with a backside full of buckshot.
The young man grinned, saying: ‘My daddy only ever gave me two shells at a time; he said that ifen a man cain’t gets what he needs with two shells then he shouldn’t waste his time and munny.’ Red didn’t know what Mike had meant by ‘professionally’ but guessed, by the expression on his face, that Mike was pleased. The young man looked very proud of himself as he downed yet another wayward lid.
Ken left them to it for a bit and wandered across to the barn to sort out the fishing gear. It wasn’t too long before the fun of shooting had worn off and the other two had joined him. Deciding upon the rods they would need, they gathered a few cold drinks and some sandwiches, which they stuffed into Ken’s old pack. Making sure they had everything, the three men took a slow walk down to the lake where they were able to see the early morning mist rising lazily above the surface of the shining water. The sun was starting to warm the ground and the fresh smell of the earth filled their noses as they meandered down to the lake.
On the way, Red made them stop and pick some of the crunchy red apples from his favourite tree. The tree grew on the top of a large mound; he said his grandfather had planted the young tree up there when he, Red, was born.
‘He said the apples would be red – jus’ like me!’ the young man said, smiling as he threw one to each of them.
They hunkered down on the mound and sat around the tree with their backs resting against its warm trunk. It was quite a big tree and Ken had the feeling it had been there a lot longer than Red had been alive, he also supposed that it may have been as a result of the strange time differences in their new dimension. ‘Nothing fits – not really, it’s all a bit weird,’ he thought. Smiling at his inner-feelings, he sat, crunched on the apple, and listened to the banter as it flowed between his best friend and his previous arch enemy.
‘Weird isn’t the word!’ he thought, looking out over the farm.
The position of the mound was a good one and elevated them just enough so they were able to see most of the farm, even the distant trees marking the boundary seemed to be closer. The farmhouse’s new wooden roof glowed in the sun like a flat, brown mirror. If he looked hard enough, with eyes squinted, Ken was able to make out the main road in the far distance. He felt as though he would be able to see almost everything from up there.
‘It’s a fine spot,’ he thought. ‘I could spend hours up here just looking at things – I’ll bet that Jane would love it as well.’ A feeling of deep calmness unexpectedly washed over him.
Ken flopped back against the soft grass and let the warmth of the early morning sun fall upon his face. Yes, it was a good place to be and he wondered if he would bother with any fishing after all. He didn’t get much choice, when he said that he was too lazy and felt like just lying in the sun, Red rolled over to him and dragged Ken to his feet. Ken felt himself lifted effortlessly by the arms, he had never felt such raw power before and it surprised him.
Red looked down at him, saying: ‘C’mon now, Kenny! We gotta go fishing’, we gotta fish, man, because we has to kick Mike’s butt!’
Ken grinned at him and looked for the man in question. The big guy was already halfway across the field and jogging towards the lake. ‘Hey, you bloody cheat!’ Ken shouted after him and hurriedly grabbed his own rod and the pack.
Red laughed like a lunatic and raced down the slope after Mike, whooping as he went. ‘I love’s it when you two give each other the hard times, yessir!’
It wasn’t long before Mike was giving them another lesson in fishing, almost every cast saw him hooking into one of the big silver fish. Although they put most of them back, Red said that maybe they should keep a few. ‘The old place won’t mind none, we done a lot o’ good work on her over this last week or two, she can pay us for our work,’ he said, whipping his line out into the water once more. Ken and Mike looked at each other and set to the fishing with renewed vigour.
***
Jane, in the meantime, was having an interesting time of her own, a very interesting time indeed. She had driven into the sleepy little town, and after picking up some newspapers, had gone for a quiet coffee in the small café across from Maggie’s shop. There were only two people in the café and she knew neither of the old men who sat at the counter nursing their drinks. She bade them good morning and then took a seat over by the window.
The young waitress, ‘Cindy’ it said on her name tag, wandered over to take Jane’s order. ‘Yes ma’am, what can I get for you this fine morning?’ she asked.
Jane ordered a large coffee, ‘And one of those house-special muffins, too, the chocolate one, please,’ she said, grinning at Cindy.
Cindy nodded in acknowledgment of Jane’s fine choice. ‘Certainly ma’am,’ she said, ‘naughty-but-nice, aren’t they? I’ll be right back…’
Jane spread her paper open and prepared to have an hour of doing nothing more than browsing the paper. Cindy bought the coffee and giant muffin across. Jane sat back, relaxed, sipped her drink and pinched off small pieces of the muffin as she perused the columns in the paper.
She had been there about half an hour when she observed the red Mazda, which Maggie drove, pull up to the front of the old woman’s shop across the street. The shopkeeper went around to the boot and extracted a bundle of bags and suitcases from the interior. Dumping them on the pavement, she went to the passenger door and opened it fully. Jane caught a glimpse of some long, smooth legs, shapely ones, before Maggie leaned in and talked to the as yet unidentified passenger. Standing back, and whilst making an exaggerated gesture, which consisted of a slight bow and a sweep of the arms, as if to welcome royalty, she invited her unseen guest to join her. The passenger finally graced the pavement with her presence and stepped out from the car.
She was tall and very, very pretty. Jane guessed the girl must have stood at nearly six feet tall – if she was an inch. Her tiny waist was wrapped in a thick, red PVC belt, which only served to accentuate her hourglass figure. The white dress ended above her knees, rising to a small collar at the neck. As she moved to the rear of the car to collect her things, the girl looked across at the café window and allowed her eyes to meet Jane’s. She paused for a moment, before smiling and then turning away. Jane subconsciously raised a hand in a return hello and the
n looked down at her hand in surprise. Shaking her head in bemusement at her own automatic reaction, she looked back across the street and watched as Maggie ushered the young lady into the shop, catching the glimpse of a white tennis shoe and a swirl of black hair as the girl followed the older woman inside.
Finishing her drink, Jane paid her bill, tipped Cindy, and headed for the high street. She spent an hour browsing the shops and buying a few bits and pieces that took her fancy along the way. Finally, she called in at the hardware store and spoke to the owner.
‘Morning Jack!’ she said, as the door closed behind her.
The tall man looked up and pushed his spectacles onto his grey head. ‘Oh, hi Jane, why, goodness me, it’s so very good to see you, and what a fine day it is today – what can I get you?’
Jack had become a firm favourite with Jane and they had put a lot of business his way over the last few weeks. He was honest and dependable, if Jack said that something would be in tomorrow then it would be, guaranteed.
Jane liked that. She said, ‘Well, I don’t suppose those boots for young Dwayne are ready yet, are they?’
Jane had kidded Red about drawing around people’s feet for good luck; when really she had been trying to get his foot size in order get him some decent boots made so that she would be able to get him out of those awful baseball shoes. And so, after a short discussion on the merits of ‘foot-drawing’ Jane had managed to get Mike to distract him whilst she took the measurements of the huge outline she had sketched around Red’s bare feet as he stood on the porch.
Jack looked at her and smiled. ‘They came in yesterday, one day early, too,’ he said. ‘Old Fred said he ain’t ever seen a pair as large, said he reached size sixteen and stopped counting!’ He reached under the counter and pulled out a large box. Lifting the lid, he pulled the paper apart and took the boots out. ‘Fred makes ‘em all by hand, every stitch by himself, he said that if there are any problems then just get ‘em back to me and he’ll sort it all out.’ With a smile, Jack placed the boots on the counter.