Dirty

“I can't get the lock back on. I can't turn the key.” “You've got to get that checked out, soon.” “Why? It's either going to be nothing or bad news and I can't afford either with no insurance.” “It ain't going to get better.” “Probably not, but I can get used to it. It won't be the first time.” “Your legs?” “Yeah. My legs.” “Why are you even doing this?” “There are a multitude of reasons.” “Multitude? Really? You do too many crossword puzzles.” “I've got a thesaurus you can borrow.” “Give me a reason, just one.” “My dad, that dude can build anything. Give him a hammer, some nails, and some lumber and he'll build a furnished house. I never had any interest in it. I never asked any questions. I rarely ever offered to help. I want to be able to help the next time he as something he needs to build.” “That is a perfectly rational and valid reason. I'm kinda shocked.” “I can be rational. Lock the the door and let's roll. It isn't going to get any cooler.”

He climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and lit a smoke. “You've never smoked in the truck before.” “Didn't know if I could.” “Did you ask?” “Nope.” They pulled onto the highway as he looked at the address and set the GPS. 98 miles to go, almost 2 hours, must be some rural highways he thought. “Long drive.” “Imagine that.” He took a drink of his Diet Coke, attempted a smoke ring and watched as it was sucked out of the open window. “I bet you bleed caffeine and smoke.” “You've seen me bleed plenty. It's red.” “Bad day?” “They're all good. Some just ain't as good as others is all.”

They sat quietly the rest of the trip. He appreciated the silence. Even the radio was quiet and the only sounds were the tires on the road and the clank of the trailer when they hit a bump. They turned down one last gravel road and saw their work site. “Shit.” “Most likely.” “I'll start unloading the concrete while you frame it out.” “I can help with the concrete. There's 26, 80 pound bags.” “I got it, besides there's just 25 and two 40 pound bags.” “You're the most hard headed son of a bitch that has ever walked the Earth.” “I've never heard that before.” He started unloading bags of Quikrete as his partner unloaded and stacked lumber. By the time he had the concrete unloaded the frame was finished and he grabbed the auger to start digging post holes. “Let me do a couple.” “Just get the frame set and once we get some posts in the ground I'll start decking and you can finish.” The sun was beating down, his hands were slick with sweat and on the 4^th hole the auger hit a root. The auger quit moving but he lost his grip on the handles and they swung around, hitting him in the left thigh, and threw him like he weighed about 150 pounds, which he did. He reached out just in time to grab a spinning handle and drag the auger with him.

“I'm just going to lay here for awhile.” “Give me the damn auger. Let it go.” “Damn that, this is my auger. I'm going to finish every hole.” “Tell me another reason why you're doing this and don't get up 'til you're finished. Make it detailed.” “Brevity is the soul of wit.” “Sarcasm is the lowest form.” “A man needs to know how to fix things. He needs to be able to take care of his own shit and anybody else's shit that might not have a strong back to take care of it themselves.” “You're gonna break you're back.” “Nah.” “Just keep landing on your head.” “”If I come home and there is a leak, a toilet seat needs changing, the little rod that holds the clothes in a closet broke, whatever; I'm going to fix it. If we get a new house and she says, “A deck would look nice out here.” Then I'm calling dad, we're gonna go to the lumber yard, grab a couple drills and the miter saw, and build a damn deck.” “Valid, not sure about rational.” He got up, grabbed the auger, and headed to the next hole. “That first ramp we built, that was the first time I ever built anything. I've torn a lot of shit up in my life but building something was foreign.” “Is that a metaphor?” “I don't think so.”

He started to crank the auger but it was almost out of gas. He laid it down and went to get the post-hole digger. “Will you quit once you're comfortable that you can build whatever you want?” “I might. I'm sure there is a mechanic out there somewhere who needs a helper that he can teach. I'm no good with cars.” “You're going to die dirty.” He grinned, ear to ear, “God, I hope I do.”