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Chapter 7
"I thought you were a contractor," I said. "I thought you were the guy in a suit who planned the building and hired the workers.
"I am, but I do both. My dad had me in building classes when I was old enough to pick up a hammer. He wanted me to become a shipbuilder."
"Oh, my gosh, I totally remember you building a boat that one time," I said. "I'm tying it all together now. I had no idea your dad wanted you to do that."
"Yeah and that's what got me started on building. It's fun. I wasn't even thinking about the property value when I came out here and did this. It's therapeutic. It's fun for me."
I looked him over, scanning his appearance. "Are you living out here?"
He laughed and shoved at my shoulder before turning to walk away—toward the deck. I followed him. "I know I stink, but geez. I suddenly feel compelled to shave and shower since you keep calling me homeless."
"No, I, I just, it's so nice out here. Youcouldsleep out here if you wanted."
"I sleep in the guesthouse," he assured me. "But I come out here all the time. I've been out here since about six this morning."
I walked over to the deck and climbed onto it. The entire edge was lined with two steps leading up to a large platform. Half of it was shady and half was in the sun, and I moved to the sunny half and stooped to my knees before turning over and lying down comfortably.
The temperature was cool, and the bright sunlight felt warm and wonderful. I relaxed out there, closing my eyes and letting the sun hit me. I was still lying stretched out on the deck when I felt and heard Charlie come up there with me. I sensed him getting closer and I felt when he got to his knees and then stretched out next to me.
I peeked as he got settled, but I closed my eyes again once I saw that he was planning on lying next to me. We stayed there, basking in the sun, for what must've been twenty or thirty minutes. We said not a word to each other for an incredibly awkward amount of time. At first, I noticed the silence, but then I didn't notice it anymore. The sun shone on our faces and cut through the cool morning air. Our bodies didn't touch.
The whole thing felt like he was my brother. In past years, I would have been having feelings for him, but today Charlie felt like my brother. I wanted to help him, but I didn't know how. He was obviously devastated or he wouldn’t be out here, looking like the wild man of Cleburne County. For a while, I didn't know what else to do besides lie out there next to him and not say anything.
"It's not your fault," I said finally.
"I know. Deep down I know."
"Not that I don't like having you in Arkansas, but how long do you plan on staying out here and doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Doing what you're doing. Being alone," I said.
"I'm being productive," he said. "I'm not anti-social. I talk to people on the phone and take care of emails and other business."
"Have you touched anyone?" I asked.
I reached out and gripped the air until I felt his arm. I took a hold of his forearm and gave it a squeeze. I heard him take a deep breath, and I sat up and did it again. I gave small, gentle, massage-therapy-type squeezes on his arm from his forearm up to his shoulder.
"How long has it been since you made contact with another human being?" I asked, continuing to touch his arm with the same neutral attention I would give to a big ball of dough. I looked down at him. "You should have a little human interaction."
"I haven’t touched another human in so long. But I'm not touchy-feely in my everyday life. Even your dad, I see him, but we don't, he doesn't… we've barely shaken hands since I've been back."
"You should go to Little Rock and get a massage," I said.
Charlie sat up, turning to face me casually. "That's probably not going to happen, honestly."
"Look, face that way," I said, gesturing and telling him to turn around.
"You don't need to…" He shook his head, trying to deny the possibility of a backrub, but he needed some kind of physical contact, and I felt obligated as a human to help him. I wanted the best for Charlie.
"Just face that way for a second," I said. "If Eric were in your shoes, I'd want someone to… just face that way for a second… yep. Thank you. Oh, my goodness, Charlie, you're actually a…" I paused and rubbed his upper back with the edge of my hands, warming him up, trying to break his muscles loose. "You are a solid rock back here, Charlie. You're unbelievably tight. I can't even break through here to get to your… you seriously do need to drive somewhere and get a massage. Or even pay someone to come out here."
"What about you?" he asked, sighing as he slumped his head and shoulders in a relaxed pose.
"I'm not a professional."
