Framing

Framing



It was my turn, my time to be on top of the world, and that slime ball Jimmy Rodgers was trying to take it away from me.



It all started a little over four years ago.

After three months I convinced Gloria Bennett I should be given a chance to fill the void left by her husband’s death. That is to say at least in terms of the work that needed to be done on the farm. I had started by commuting out from town each day, being there as early as I possibly could, then sweating away until the late hours of the evening, even before the job was mine. I was volunteering my time, hoping it would lead to something permanent.

Mrs. Bennett’s field hand Joe Endicott and I had been haying in the south field when we heard the commotion coming from up at the barn. Dust and chaff flew out the door, and blew free a number of slats that once ran down the side walls.

Joe started to shake his head. “Oh my! I knew this day was coming.”

“What is it?”

“The framing gave way. Barn that old, she had her fair share of problems. Lately some of the pegs had fallen out, or gone missing completely.”

We hopped into Joe’s pickup and high-tailed it up the field road. We approached until we were forced to stop in yard as the dust became thick enough to prevent us from safely driving any further.

“Is it safe to go in?” I asked, peering around the door frame.

“I wouldn’t. Not until the cloud clears. You stay here, I’ll go get Mrs. Bennett, see what she wants to do about all this.”

Joe had been Mr. Bennett’s field hand for over forty years. Nevertheless, he still wouldn’t make a move until it was cleared with his boss first.

Not wanting to just wait around, I made for the small patch of poplar behind the barn. I took out my pocket knife, and choosing saplings based upon their size, I began cutting down a few. I shaped them so that they might fit in the empty peg holes. I had seen those holes a thousand times, just never really given much thought to them. Never really dawned on me that some were filled, and some were empty.

“What’s going on here?” Mrs. Bennett hollered from halfway between us and the house.

“Cave in of the center truss” I shouted back. She and Joe closed the distance faster than I thought they could. I met them in front of the barn. “I think there is at least one calf at the back in there, if not two.”

“And what are you planning to do with those sticks?”

“It looks as if the stretcher gave way, allowing the truss to fall. If I can get in there and brace it using the stretcher, I can try to re-pin the timbers in place.”

“Are you crazy? I don’t want you going in there! You could get yourself killed.”

“Actually, there’s a path that runs down the outer wall that looks protected. I could grab the beam, brace it, insert a few of these barn pegs, and be back to the wall before anything should happen.”



And that’s how I began working on the Bennett ranch. I had busted trough and proved myself up to the task. I had rebuilt most of the barn, fixed the framing where the trusses had come down, replaced the missing vertical slats, and laying down a new roof, despite my fear of heights. It was the job of a lifetime, and I had done most of the work as a one man crew.

I had also taken over many of the chores in and around the barn. Tending and feeding the animals, running fence lines, haying the fields, planting and harvesting of the small garden. It was long, tedious work, but it was also the type of work that Mrs. Bennett and Joe were now unable to do.

I thought I had everything in hand until I took a dive off one of a roof truss and into a shallow hay pile three stories down below. Bracing the fall with my right arm probably wasn’t the smartest move I ever made, but on the other hand the damage could have been a lot worse. Being in a cast for six weeks put a damper on how much I could accomplish on the to-do list. Still, I showed up to do what I could left-handed. It was hard not overdoing it, but I had to show my worth.



I guess I was most determined to break out of the family mold. You see, there hasn’t been a Parker from Lester Falls who amounted to anything in the last seventy years give or take. My father and grandfather had rode the coattails of whomever they could. they made  poor choices and never stuck to a job more than a month or two.

The first Parker in town had been a blacksmith, a hardworking man who spent his life serving the community. He and his son, my great-grandfather, ran a small shop just off the town square, servicing the needs of the town and the railroad as it passed through.

My grandfather took over the shop in the 1920s. Not long after that, in the mid 30’s, it became cheaper to import finished goods than to refine metal locally. Grandpa was offered a chance to work in the big mills out of state putting airplanes together for the war, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave town.

Grandpa never got over closing the shop, and had difficulty working for others. He spent a few months bouncing from shop to shop here in town. He also tried his hand working down in Bangor, and finally up in the Millinocket region. Nothing ever took hold.

By the time Dad came along, grandpa had lost much of what made the Parker name in this town. The shop was gone, Grandfather’s wife was moving back and forth between their house and her parents, and he was spending increasingly less time at home altogether.

Grandpa was let go from his last job shortly after Dad had turned twelve, and then he was home all the time. He turned first to friends and family, then the church, and finally the government for support. He never did get back on his own two feet.

After years of watching his old man live off the system, Dad tried to find a job, but he never got the hang of working. He eventually retreated into booze to create his own false sense of security.



I was going to be different.

People around town had started to notice the change, the fact that I was trying as best I could to break the rutted cycle that had trapped the Parker name for a couple generations. At first it was little things. I had gone from a nightly fixture at Slone’s bar to only being in there one or two nights a week. By the time I took my fall, I had managed to cut down to once a week, and had even missed a few weeks altogether in the months before.

I addition to my work on the farm I had started doing little things around town. I spent weekends helping out at the small museum in town, building shelves and moving around displays. I picked up a few side jobs fixing vehicles for the neighbors, or performing yard work, and picking up trash around town.

I was starting to feel better about myself, socially and physically. I no longer had a craving to drown my sorrows in cheap beer and lousy company. I was no longer waking up in the alley behind the house, or two streets over, or in someone’s garden, with no clue how I had gotten there. I had started showering regularly, thinking about going back to school, and even fixed up dad’s old S-10 so that I could get back and forth without a problem.



Once I broke my arm, Jimmy showed up.

I guess I can’t totally fault Jimmy. As one of Mrs. Bennett’s closest relatives in town, I think he sees my working for the old lady as a drain on any inheritance he might receive from her once she goes.

Jimmy had always been, well, difficult to get along with. In school, he was the one that was always shoving others into lockers, getting the top students to do his homework, and leading around the popular students as they hung on his every word. Jimmy lettered in both Soccer and Baseball by the end of his sophomore year, and he never let any of us forget about it.

He dated the head cheerleader, got into a top notch college without trying that hard, graduated with a business degree, and returned to help his father run the factory here in town. They say that with age comes maturity, but Jimmy had changed little since high school. Most of the people in town just turned their heads and ignored it. Some fights just aren’t worth fighting.

I broke my arm on a Thursday afternoon. By Monday morning, the farm was under Jimmy’s thumb. Maybe not officially, but he was throwing his weight around. My hours had been cut, the bulk of my responsibilities transferred to one of Jimmy’s drones, and my access to Mrs. Bennett cut off completely.



I jammed the gear shift of my re-built Chevy S-10 into park before the truck came to a full stop. As I slid out I reached to slam the door behind me, but it just swayed on the offset hinges.

“Jimmy, what’s the meaning of this?” My hands were shaking; the veins in my face flush with blood.

Jimmy puffed his chest, sauntered over, and jabbed his finger into my chest. “You’ve been cut back. You should have been let go. I’m not letting my aunt waste any more money keeping you around so that you can sleep in the barn.” He turned and slowly walked away.

“I’ve never slept on the job! And as far as my slowing down these last few weeks that has more to do with this blasted cast then with my wanting to do the work. You know I get things done around here.”

“Maybe when you started, but it’s obvious that doesn’t happen anymore.”

“Jimmy, I don’t think you understand. I need this job!”

He came back at me; face as flush as mine at this point. His eyes were wide, his nostrils flaring. “It’s you that doesn’t understand, Parker. You’re of no use around here, get my drift?”

“And Mrs. Bennett is okay with this?”

“Gloria? She’s nothing more than a crazy old woman. Frankly, I don’t know why she hired a Parker in the first place. Just be happy I let her keep you on to shovel out the barn and feed the animals.”



It had taken me three weeks to muster up the gumption to challenge Jimmy, and a week later I was given permission to hand my resignation to Mrs. Bennett. I regretted my decision the moment I had made it, but there was only so much I could do. I just wish he hadn’t of had one of his goons in the room with us.

“Do you really want to leave like this? I’m sure Jimmy and I could find something around here for you to do while you finish mending up?”

I looked down at the floor between us. “He says he’s tried. And in reality, I’ve been pushing a bit harder than I should have been.”

“But you’ve done so much around here. I would hate to lose you over something like this.”

“I’ll still be around,” I looked Mrs. Bennett in the face, my eyes drawn and red, my cheeks flush and burning.

Mrs. Bennett placed her hand upon my face. “Child, you will be back, and I hope it will be soon. I would not worry if I were you.”

“But I’ve let you down.”

“You’ve done nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, if it were not for you, I would not have been able to stay out here as long as I have. And I would not worry about Jimmy. He won’t be out here forever. Regardless of what he thinks I owe him.” Mrs. Bennett looked up at the goon in the back of the room, and then returned her gaze to me. “You’ll be back on your feet before you know it. I’ll see to it, even if it isn’t here with me.”



Two days after I told Mrs. Bennett that I had to leave the farm I found myself in the aisles of the Sure-Fine, picking up a few groceries. I was trying to go sparse, picking up the bare essentials, trying to spend as little as possible. I still had every intention of working towards a new me, no matter how many road blocks were put in my way.

The cart looked rather bare. Two boxes of generic Cheerios, a gallon of milk, and a small package of hamburger that was reduced for quick sale. I was in the pet food aisle, grabbing a small can of cat food, when Jimmy came round the corner. He had a big grin on his face, and was strutting around as if he were the king of the world.

“I heard you quit. Not surprised. Never can count on a Parker to see a job through. You back on welfare yet?”

“No, I’m looking for…”

“For somewhere else to get your handout from? Good luck! Now that I set my great aunt straight, you’d better stay away from the farm. Don’t need you squelching off my family. Bad enough you’re living off the taxes we pay.”

I put my head down, and walked away. Sometimes, the high road has just as many road blocks as the low road.

“Parker, did I say you could walk away?” He was loud enough people were starting to stare. People were poking their heads around the ends of the isle to see what was going on. Jimmy moved to block me as I pushed away, and started to take things out of my cart.

“Two boxes of cereal? Why on earth would you need two boxes of cereal?” One of the boxes went flying across the floor. “And meat? You can’t afford meat!” The half-pound of chuck was tossed aside as well.

I turned, and walked away without the cart. Jimmy was taunting me as I retreated down the aisle. He was having fun with it, too. Then I heard him yell “What are looking at?”

Just like Jimmy. He’d always been like that. A little bit of gumption and a lot of daddy’s money, and people start to think they own the world.



That night, I was sitting at home, listening to the radio and reading a book in my chair when there was a knock on the door. It was Henry Thompson, the manager of the Sure-Fine, and one of the girls who ran cash register for him.

“Can I help you?”

“Mister Parker, can we talk?”

“It’s Tommy, and I’m sorry I left my cart in the middle of the store today.”

“Okay, Tommy. But that’s not why we’re here. Well, it is, but not because you left your cart in the aisle. Rather, we’re here because you left your groceries in the store.”

“Oh. Well, I never did pay for those items, so they still belong to you. I’m sorry I was unable to put them back.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“I had an egg this morning, and a can of ravioli for lunch. The kitchen is kind of bare right now, and…”

“Tommy,”

“Yes?”

“What was the last decent meal you’ve had?”

It took me a while. “Um… I don’t think I’ve had more than a small can of something or other for over a month. Why?”

“Gina, go get the bags.” The girl he was with turned and started for Mr. Thompson’s truck.

“I don’t want a handout, Mr. Thompson. I can’t pay you back.” Gina stopped a few feet away.

“It’s not a handout, Tommy.” He looked at me, trying to gauge where to go next. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you back on welfare?”

“Um, not yet. But come Monday, I might have to be. Bad enough I’m still on assistance for the house here. I was about to see about shaking that when I broke my arm.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bennett told me about that.”

“Mrs. Bennett? I don’t want any trouble, with her or the Rogers.” I backed away, and was about to close the door.

Mr. Thompson slid his foot within the jam. “Gloria is a friend of mine; we go back a long ways. We aren’t here to cause you any trouble, just to talk.”

He turned back to Gina. “Go get the bags, please.”

“You know, Tommy, Jimmy isn’t necessarily Mrs. Bennett’s closest relative in town. Jimmy doesn’t know this, but Mrs. Bennett has grandchildren, some of which live in the area, right under his nose. He’s too busy trying to be the town hot-shot to realize it, though.”

I opened the door a bit more, back to where it was before. “Then why is Jimmy running things out to the farm right now?”

“Not quite sure. Maybe because her relatives want to keep a low profile.”

Gina returned to the stoop carrying a few bags of groceries.

“I told you, Sir, I can’t pay you back.”

“And you’re not going to. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing that I know of.”

“Good. You need to be at the back of my store at eleven tomorrow. My son will be there to let you in.

“Let me in for what?”

“To work.” Mr. Thompson partially turned his body away, and then turned his head back. “You know, I’ve seen the way your father and grandfather worked their way around this town. They burned a lot of bridges, and we all thought you were headed that way too. Don’t let me down.” Gina was back on the step, and Mr. Thompson turned to walk away.

“Will he be there tonight? I’d like to meet him.”

Half way down the walk Mr. Thompson turned again. “He will. If you want to start tonight, that would be fine as well. But you should get some rest.” With that, he disappeared into the truck, Gina still on my door step, and drove off.



“This way to the kitchen?”

“You don’t have to do…”

“I want to. Grandma and I agreed it was the least I could do after the way Jimmy treated you today.”

“Grandma?”

“Yea. Well, my step grandmother. Mom was a Bennett, before she married my father. They’ve moved away. Grandma’s the only one I have left here in town. I don’t even think Jimmy realizes that we’re related.”

She placed the bags on the kitchen table, removed a small packet of hamburg from one of the bags, and set it on the counter.

I made my way to the kitchen behind her. “I would offer you something, but there isn’t much here at the moment.”

“It’s okay. Do you want help putting this stuff away?”

“No, I’ll get it. Thank you, though.”

“Oh, well, how about sitting and talking?” She moved a thick lock of long dark hair behind her left ear.

My eyes widened a bit. “Sure,...”

“You know, I remember you from high school.”

I dropped my head. “I was a different person then. Don’t remember too much of school. Don’t remember too much of life before I lost my father seven years ago.”

“Oh. What about your mother?”

“She left when I was little. Can’t say I know too much about her. Wish I did, though.”

She dropped her head, focusing on the clenched hands that lay upon her lap. Her hair fell effortlessly around her head, covering her face. “I lost my mother when I was two. Dad went through some terrible years, before he met Karen, Mrs. Bennett’s daughter. She really was the saving grace for me and my father. She managed to keep alive the memory of my mother for dad, while being nothing but a true mother for me.”

And with that, we managed to bun away an hour or so, talking as if we had known each other for years. Just past eight thirty I took her hands, holding them between mine. “I would love for this to continue, but it is getting late, and I want to make it down to the store tonight. I hope you understand.”

“Oh, of course. I… I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

“I had a wonderful time, though, and would love to do this again.”

“That would be nice.”

We stood.  She slipped her hand in mine as we walked to the door.

“I’m just two doors down. If you need anything…”

“Thank you.”

She leaned in, gave me a quick hug, and a small peck on the cheek. “You stood up to my cousin. That makes you alright in my book. It doesn’t hurt that Grandma likes you as well.”

She removed her hands from my sides, and was out the door. Half way down the walk she turned, smiled, and waved. Then she disappeared into the night.



I put the groceries away, set my alarm for ten, and laid my head down. I had somewhere to be at eleven, and I didn’t want to be late.