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Keller, Bob, and I help Hal clear the table while the ladies get set up in the great room.
After building them a fire, we say our good-byes and pile into Keller’s truck to head to work, my camera bag in my lap.
A gentleman, looking to be about Bob’s age, meets us at Bob and Trixie’s garage.
“Isaac, this is my old friend, Hoyt Miller. He brought supplies from the hardware store he owns in town,” Bob introduces.
“As in Mayor Hoyt Miller?” I ask.
“One and the same,” Hoyt replies.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Mayor,” I tell him.
“You too. I’m sorry I was unable to get away today. I hope you enjoyed your afternoon in town,” he says as we follow Bob and Keller inside.
“We did, although we have much more to see. Sela was a great tour guide.”
He nods. “Yes, I knew I was putting you in capable hands, and I have no doubt you’ll get everything you need,” he agrees.
Bob leads us over to a small red boat on a pedestal in the right bay of the garage.
“What’s this year’s theme?” Keller asks his father.
Walking over to a drafting table, Bob unrolls a set of blueprints and spreads them out before us. “I want to build a floating platform under the boat so it appears to be hovering over the water. Then, I want to attach a set of wires wrapped in lights to eight giant sturgeons that are suspended in the air with one in the front that has a glowing red point in the nose. We’ll set an inflatable Santa inside.”
I look down at the carefully crafted plan in wonder.
“Santa’s boat pulled by fish instead of Santa’s sleigh pulled by reindeer. That’s brilliant,” I praise.
Bob grins. “If we can pull it off,” he agrees.
“You guys enter the parade contest every year?” I ask.
“Since I was a boy. My grandfather and father started the tradition. Then, when I had children of my own, I continued it. This will be my fifty-fifth entry,” Bob reveals.
“And his twenty-fifth blue ribbon,” Keller adds.
“Fingers crossed,” Bob concurs.
The three of them roll their sleeves up and get to work while I grab my camera and capture every element—from Keller cutting the wooden frame for the Styrofoam platform, Hoyt measuring and cutting the thick black wire from a large spool, and Bob boring a hole into the tip of one of the plastic sturgeon’s noses to feed the red light bulb through.
They move together with familiar ease as they make the blueprint come to life before my eyes.
Once the boat is secured to the frame, Bob takes a step back to admire the progress.
“What do you think, Pop?” Keller asks as he slings an arm over his father’s shoulders.
“I believe we have another blue ribbon in our future.”
Sela
Iduck my chin into the collar of my coat as I rush out of the flower shop. The soles of my snow boots grip the slippery concrete as I hurry down the sidewalk to town hall.
I’m running late.
It’s not something I do.
Last night, we had a great time making wishing bottles for the market. The kids worked hard, and Trixie and Alice ended up with ten dozen bottles to sell.
