His
name was Carl and before he was
Even
through the woodshed door coming
Into
the kitchen he said, “Now what did
You
do?” We’ve never met but I squint a
Moment
closer to make sure we never have.
Carl
is an electrician, I’m a carpenter,
This
morning I drew a fast chopping
Blade
halfway through a live-wire while
Cutting
out a hatch door into the ceiling.
At
first spark I stopped the sawzall. Now Carl
Is
way up in the hatch fixing wire I never
Want
anything to do with. It’s late in the
Day,
he’s sweaty, punchy, clumsy for an
Electric
man but it doesn’t bother me
Because
I like him. Did immediately.
Something
about the cheap post earring
In
the right ear. Something about the
Beer
gut, the headband, the nonstop ramble.
Turns
out he lives eight miles from where
I
was born; it’s been 25 years since I’ve
Met
anyone who knows Mauserts swimminghole
And
a place called Clarksburg. “Shit, yes”
Is
how Carl talks, beefy enthusiasm, as
He
chips the porcelain pull switch sloppy
As
ever and says he won’t charge me. As if
His
life has any clue about paperwork.
Let’s
get honest. Carl has turned 40. He
Is
to be married at the end of the week
To
his third wife who has two kids while
Carl
has two of his own. They met at a
Country
store. He bought beer and she was
The
cashier. He returned every day after
Work
until he gained up the nerve to ask
Her
on a date. Like I said, I fell for
The
guy too when he came in today walking
And
talking through the woodshed door.
Neighbor
They
said it was a heart
Attack
but it weren’t no
Heart
attack even though
We
all seen the Rescue van
Out
here and we hardly ever
Do
and they pulled all three
Of
his sons out of school and
Rushed
them and the wife from
The
Ames job real fast to the
Hospital
in case it was the real
Thing
but it was due to plowing
Just
too much snow plowing and
Rotten
weather and late nights
Riding
these backwoods roads
That
finally got to him just
Shy
of 40 and putting on some
Extra
weight and sudden like
His
whole body seized up and
It
must of given him a real
Scare
because for a few years
Now
he had turned into a regular
Son
of a bitch, surly and pinched
And
all cockeyed behind a beard
But
since the scare and the doctor
Said
take-it-easy it has been
Like
when I first met him as
A
boy now leaving his monster
Truck
at home and walking the
Road
along the river with his
Dog
that he takes plowing with
Him
and he waves and smiles and
The
dog looks happier too
Specifics
There
was one stone
I
set into the hut
That
my neighbor Everett
Belden,
a farmer, always
Remarked
on liking specifically
When
word of stone walls
Or
such came up, “Now
There’s
that white rock
You
did that I like,” he’d
Always
say and I can’t
Remember
if I placed it
In
special or it just
Came
up in the pile that
Way,
but now Everett is long
Gone
and the hut is 10 years
Built
and so is the boy who
I
made it for and whenever
The
story comes up he learns
A
little more about Everett,
Things
gone by and the love
For something done right
For something done right
_________________
Bob Arnold
Once In Vermont
Gnomon
