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“I said something to him last night, but it didn’t seem to matter. He kept working for another thirty minutes or more. I guess I’ll need to have a conversation with him again.”
“He just isn't used to having anyone but me living next door. I’ll say something to him. It will take him a little time to adjust, that's all.”
“Let's hope so.” I turned setting the coffee cup on the counter. I didn't want to be mean, but I needed peace and quiet. I figured being this far out would allow that.
“He’s been my friend for as long as I can remember, and I guess it just never bothered me.”
“If you guys were such good friends, why did you move?”
“That's a long story.”
“I've got time.” I leaned back grabbing my coffee cup and waited.
“Well, my older brother was going to take over the family business, but he got married and moved to northern Cali. So, being the good son that I am, I told Dad I would come and help, and if I could do what my brother had been doing as well as he’d been doing it, I would take over for him.” He shrugged. “It's close to Oregon City, and driving nearly an hour back and forth just wasn't feasible anymore, so I bought a small house there, and I’ve been living there for the most part. I was staying weekends out here, but I was paying for two places, and, well, I didn't want to anymore. It was sheer luck that you saw the ad barely an hour after I put it up.” He winked at me, then smiled. “Ya know... if you believe in luck, that is.”
“What kind of business does your family have?” I asked as I walked toward the front porch. He followed me, and we sat down in the rockers I’d admired as I was coming in the day before. I looked out over the rolling grass fields to one side of the farmhouse as he started speaking again.
“It’s a lumber business. My great-grandfather started it in the late twenties, and then my grandfather took over, and now my father. I guess it was expected that either me or my brother would take it over, and since I'm still here...” He didn't finish the sentence, and I couldn’t help but wonder if everyone who lived in this town was hell bent on destroying trees.
Luke appeared around the corner carrying a large piece of glass.
“You need some help?” Ryan called out, standing.
“If you could grab a couple of those legs and bring them over here, that would be great,” Luke said without looking up. When he laid the glass down on a piece of foam that covered the bed of his truck, he wrapped the glass carefully and then headed once more toward the back of the house.
He glanced in my direction and waved. “Morning,” he said but kept walking. I lifted my cup to my lips and took a long sip of the now warm coffee. I watched as they loaded several more pieces into the truck. The most impressive had been a large rounded piece of wood that looked to be a section of tree trunk. Anger bubbled to the surface as I looked at the poor piece of tree that had been cut down to make the table. A tree that had to have been well into its seventies. I stood and walked back into the house to change into clothes more appropriate for a hike through the woods. I put on a pair of brown leggings, tucking them into my socks before slipping on my hiking boots. I then pulled a white, long-sleeved shirt over my t-shirt. Ticks could be bad in this area, so I wanted to be prepared. I walked out the back door and heard his truck start, the engine roaring to life. I shook my head and just walked into the woods where, more often than not, I found my freedom.
I followed the natural trail of runoff water. Stopping and taking notice of the many types of trees and vegetation every now and again, I walked about a mile and found a small meadow with a creek running alongside it. I laid down in the grass and enjoyed the silence. I must have dozed off in the quiet after not sleeping well the night before. When I woke, I checked the time and realized I should head back to the house and finish the paper I didn’t get to work on the night before.
I gathered my things and started back. Just as I entered back into the wooded area, I saw scratchings that appeared to have been made by a bear or a large cat, maybe a mountain lion. I made a mental note that I shouldn’t forget to carry my bear spray or the handgun Granddad bought me when I left for college.
Chapter Five
Luke
I shook hands with Mr. Peterson as we stood looking over the table that I just finished piecing back together in his dining room.
“It's a work of art, Luke.” He patted me on the shoulder and handed me a check with his other hand. I took it and looked down at it.
“This isn't what we discussed.”
“Yeah, there’s a little extra. You got it done so quickly, you deserve a bonus,” he said with a genuine smile.
I folded the check and stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“I would eventually like to have you make a couple of end tables for my trophy room,” he added as we walked out of the house and down the front steps of the porch.
“It will be after the season before I can start a new set. Plus, I may have a contract to produce several pieces for a retailer, so the sooner you can let me know when you’re ready for them, I can make sure you get a spot in my schedule.”
“Good for you, son. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
We said our farewells, and I waved one last time before driving off. He only lived about twenty minutes from me, and the drive went by fairly quickly.
When I got home, I spent a few hours cleaning the shop and found myself looking at the house from time to time wondering what my new neighbor was doing. After cleaning the shop, I pulled out the push mower and started taking care of the grass.
When Ryan bought the house, we made a deal that I would handle the grass, and he would handle any repairs the house needed. While I knew I got the short end of the deal, it was okay.
The difference between the two of us was that I had to work a lot harder to sustain my physique while he was naturally built. I worked twice as hard to keep myself toned. He laughed at me all the time about my six-pack and gloated often about his eight-pack. I honestly think he’s just jealous that I have a good three inches on him and have no trouble growing a beard. He makes fun of my abs, and I give him hell about his goatee. It all works out in the end.
