The Carpenter's Apprentice Read online

  As I was preparing to head out the door, grandma stopped me and said, “Sweetie, will you take something to the tenant since you’re going out anyway?”

  “Sure,” I said with a smile.

  She handed me a pie plate with tin foil on top and I asked, “What is it?”

  She grinned, “An extra blackberry pie!”

  My eyes widened as I flashed her a mischievous grin, “How do you know it’s extra?”

  She wagged her finger, “You stop that! I’ll make you a fresh one. Now go take this to Mr. Darby in the old farmhouse.”

  I saluted, “Will do!”

  She waved her tea towel, “At ease,”

  I hopped in the truck, shifted into gear and made my way down the driveway that led to the highway. It was around 6:00 p.m. and the sun had started casting its last sleepy rays across the meadows. There were no other cars on the highway, just the sound of the wind rushing by my pickup.

  I turned into the graveled road that led to the farmhouse and basked in the fun of bumping along through the roughness. Flashes and spotlights of sunlight occasionally dodged between the thick of trees as I approached the house.

  Outside, I could see a tall, scruffy-looking man wearing goggles and hovering over a piece of wood. He had a sanding block in his hand and dust was flying everywhere as he meticulously focused on the task at hand.

  I couldn’t help but notice his fire-red hair, beard, and mustache. It made him look kind of like a lumberjack, or Kris Kringle from that old-fashioned Christmas cartoon, Here Comes Santa Clause.

  He was wearing a red flannel shirt that was half tucked in. But the most interesting thing I noticed besides how nicely his jeans fit was his red suspenders. I don’t recall seeing a man wearing suspenders in recent memory. This man almost looked like a pioneer that had somehow been dropped into modern society.

  I stood observing him a little longer than I should have but he was just so interesting and striking. I’ve always been the quiet type anyway; always observing, taking in my surroundings, getting lost in the moment. He lifted his eyes and pulled off his goggles, “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Darby?” I said with a shaky voice.

  He mumbled, “I’ve already found religion. I’m not interested in any security system or insurance, and there’s no misses who’d want to buy Avon or Mary Kay.” He took a deep breath and smiled, “So, unless the boy scouts have started selling cookies too then I’m not interested.”

  I chuckled, “Oh no, you seen to have the wrong impression. I’m Caedmon, Annie’s grandson. I come up here to help her every summer and I’ve just gotten into town. She sent you this!”

  I approached and held out the pie. His eyes glimmered with child-like happiness as he took it, lifted the lid, and took a big whiff. “God, I love that woman’s pies.”

  He met my gaze, “Sorry for being a grumpy bear there. You’d be surprised how many salesmen come all the way out here to try their luck.”

  He went back to work as he continued, “I have to give it to em’ though, they’re awfully ambitious to come down this road not knowing what’s at the end of it.”

  I nodded and replied dreamily, “I can imagine.”

  He lifted his eyes and smirked, “You can probably tell I’m not around people very much from the way I just talked your ears off.”

  I exhaled, “You’re fine.”

  He held my gaze for a moment before squinting and turning away. If looks could kill, I’d be lying on the ground because when he looked at me, all I could feel was love all around me. Like we’d been lovers from a past life or something. I couldn’t handle the intensity of the emotion any longer and quickly blurted out, “I better get going.”

  I raced to my truck and shifted into gear. As I pulled away, I could still see him watching me from my rear-view mirror. I’d never felt anything so strong in my whole life than the moment where he met my gaze and peered into my soul. But I vowed on the way back to grandma’s, that over the course of this summer, I’d get to know him better. I’d do anything to feel what I just felt with him again.

  When I got back to grandma’s and got inside, she shouted from the kitchen, “Did he like his pie?”

  I made my way around the corner and stood in the doorway as I replied, “He loved it!”

  She wiggled her eyebrows, “Isn’t he a nice strapping guy?”

  “Yeah,” I replied with a curious tone.

  She turned to me, “You might could learn some tricks from somebody like him.”

  I wanted to say, could I ever. But, I resisted and watched in silence as she spooned some green beans with ham into a bowl and checked on a roast in a nearby crockpot. I felt the need to quickly change the subject because thinking about him was making me feel all flushed and jumpy inside. Like a squirrel who’d just emerged from its nest to go foraging.

  We had a nice dinner in the living room followed by some reruns of old TV shows before finally saying goodnight and making our way to our bedrooms. I laid in bed for a while chasing thoughts inside my head of all I had to do starting tomorrow.

  NEW HORIZONS

  It was early June and the yard had become overgrown due to a particularly wet spring. It’d take me most of the morning to mow it, trim the boxwoods across the front of the house, and weed the flower beds. It would be hard work, but so worth it. I love being outside in the fresh mountain air and feeling the sun on my skin.

  When I woke up, grandma had already started the day by fixing a big country breakfast with biscuits and gravy, sausage links, scrambled eggs, and fresh-squeezed orange juice to wash it all down with. I emerged in my blue jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. She kissed my cheek, “There’s grandma’s little helper. A big workday deserves a big country breakfast.”

  “Aw grandma, I wish you wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”

  She waved in dismissal, “This is nothing. I used to fix this every day for your grandpa.”

  I took a seat at the table as she served. We ate and talked about today’s plans then I made my way down to grandpa’s garage to get out the riding mower. As I was checking the gas and oil a voice shouted inside, “Hello, anyone home?”

  I stood from my crouched position and wiped the grease off my hands before looking to see who it was. When I did, I noticed it was Darby. I could feel my face flush as I replied with a chipper tone, “Yes, Mr. Darby. How can I help you?”

  He raised the pie plate and grinned, “Just wanted to return this.”

  I approached and stretched out my hand to take it, “Oh, thanks!”

  He stared at my hands, “Whatcha busying yourself with?”

  I glanced behind me, “Oh, just getting ready to mow the yard.”

  His eyes twinkled, “It’s only 8:00 o’clock!”

  I smiled proudly, “I like to get an early start so I can enjoy the rest of the day.”

  He looked smart for a minute as he shook his finger, “I like the way you think.”

  Silence lingered between us for a moment as he handed me the pie plate. A small spark between us prompted me to pull away and him to chuckle. “Would you look at that, we made a spark.”

  I dropped the pie plate and it shattered on the floor. He looked startled as I rushed to pick up the pieces and apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

  He crouched down and helped, “Aw, don’t worry about it. I’ll buy Ms. Annie another one.”

  I suddenly felt so embarrassed and babbled, “You probably went through the trouble to wash it and everything. God, I’m such a klutz sometimes.”

  He paused from helping me pick up the pieces and threw the ones he had in his hand into a nearby empty box. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s just a plate kiddo.”

  I lifted my eyes. He was smiling so warmly and sweetly at me but I was about to cry. “It’s probably an antique, what am I going to tell grandma?”

  Suddenly he cupped his hands under mine and whispered, “Shh.”

  I swallowed hard as I noticed how little mine were compared to hi
s. “Give me the pieces.”

  “Okay,” I whimpered.

  He tossed them into the nearby box with the ones he picked up, then stood and tucked the box under his arm. “If you knew how many of your grandma’s dishes I’ve broken since I moved in, you wouldn’t worry at all about one pie plate.”

  “Really?” I said optimistically.

  He grinned and rubbed my hair with his big hand, “Really sport. I’ll take the blame for this one. You just worry about getting that chore list done.”

  As he turned to make his way toward the house I raised my hand and shouted, “Mr. Darby?”

  He glanced back at me, “Yep?”

  “Thank you.”

  He waved in dismissal and I watched for a moment as his ass swayed back and forth. With a sigh, I turned and threw my leg over the mower. It started right up and I slowly backed out of the shop, set the blade, and started off across the yard.

  It was funny really; Mr. Darby wasn’t the perfect fit guy. I already knew he liked his desserts but there was something cute about his thickness. He looked warm and comfy like a big chair you could just sink down in and sleep for hours. My thoughts drifted momentarily as I imagined what it would be like to feel his big arms wrapped around me.

  I imagined it would be so warm, just the way the summer sun wraps us in its embrace during the day. I sighed again as I watched him saunter down the road that led to the house. He turned back to steal a glance at me and I waved at him. He waved back with a smile, and I melted inside. He was so gentle and kind and the thought that he might just be being nice was tearing me up inside.

  As the morning turned to noon, I’d almost finished mowing the front yard. I’d have to do the five acres in back tomorrow. It was a long weary walk to the front porch, but when I arrived grandma was sitting there with a fresh-made pitcher of sweet tea. She smiled sweetly, “It looks wonderful Caedmon. Now, why don’t you have a seat and enjoy the fruits of your labor while I go fix us some lunch.”

  I thanked her and took the glass she handed me as I took a seat in an old rocking chair. The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the summer heat was lingering in the air like a heavenly aura. There are few things that smell as divine as freshly cut grass. Of course, grandma’s cooking is a close second.

  I live through my senses; sight, smell, sound, and taste, are the principles on which I live and thrive. Isn’t it amazing how a certain smell or taste can take you back to some beautiful place or time in your mind? It can make you remember the sweetest things and for as long as I shall live, the smell of freshly cut grass will make me remember summers at grandmas.

  I still had a lot to do today, but for now, I was just taking a moment to relax while she made lunch.

  DARBY

  In the daytime, I thrive. But when the night comes the memories still haunt me. I used to have a life, a job, a beautiful boyfriend. But slowly my world came crashing down around me. The dream died and I’m like a widow mourning a lost love.

  When I’m around people I can put on a smile and pretend everything is alright, but inside, my soul is dark. The light that once shined from my eyes was snubbed out by time.

  A few years ago, I was living in Charlotte and working for an insurance company. I had my own cubicle and all that stuff. My job was to handle insurance claims and decide whether to approve them or not based on company policies.

  That’s where I met Devin. He was a trophy boy with an appetite for the good life. You’d think it was the end of the world if we couldn’t eat out at a nice restaurant or go shopping on our days off. Me, I’ve always been a homebody. Ever since I was a little kid, I was perfectly content sitting at home on the front porch of my parent’s house reading a good book.

  I was raised in the country. A little town just south of the Virginia line called Reidsville. My parents still live up there and every once in a while I make the journey to go visit them. Mom was a salvage lady. She loved nothing more than going to the area dumps and rescuing old things people had thrown out and making them beautiful again.

  When she was finished with a project, she’d have daddy go with her to the flea market and they’d sit out there all weekend and try to make some fast money. Daddy was a school bus driver before he retired. As he got older, he got to where he couldn’t see that well and that’s when he and mom decided he should retire and collect disability.

  At the time, we thought it was just a part of age creeping in on him, but for some unknown reason, he started going blind. It was hard on mom to learn how to help him, but it just made their love stronger. He depends on her and she depends on him just the way they did when they were young and innocent.

  Once I graduated high school I went to college at Duke and got a degree in financial planning and management. I was always the responsible type. Worked the nine to five grind faithfully, then came home to my little condo in the city. To some, it was a picture-perfect life, but in the back of my mind, I knew I was slowly dying inside.

  Things changed for a little while when I met Devin, and life was exciting at last. I wanted to do everything to make him happy. After a few months of dating, I invited him to move in with me, that’s when things started to change.

  He wanted to go out and party every night and I wanted to stay home and relax. We’d have an argument, then he’d eventually go out anyway despite my requests for him to stay home and just spend quality time together.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, his mood began to change. I’d suddenly become the enemy or as he put it, “An old man.” I resented being called an old man. At forty-two, I still felt like I had a lot of life left to live. I just didn’t want to waste it drinking and dancing with a bunch of strangers.

  In one last attempt to save our relationship, I offered him a trip to the mountains so we could get away and reconnect. He declined and told me that he was seeing someone else. The following weekend he moved out, leaving me as lonely as a rainy day in summer.

  For a few weeks, I walked around like a zombie trying my best to pick up the pieces of my broken life. When my work started to suffer, I decided to go visit mom and dad and gather my thoughts. They were just what I needed to inspire me and get my life together again.

  Mom never liked Devin anyway. I’d taken him with me a few times to visit them. He mostly just sat around and sighed that there was nothing to do and that he was bored, and how can anyone live like this?

  Daddy always said a nice switch to the behind would do that boy a world of good. As much as I would’ve liked to teach him discipline, he rarely gave me the opportunity to be intimate with him. He said I needed to go to the gym and work out more. A few times he even went as far as to tell me I was disgusting.

  Every once in a while I can still hear his shrill voice in the back of my mind telling me I’m old, or that I’m ugly, or I’m fat. You’d think I would get mad, but it always just makes me cry. I loved that boy, even though he was cruel to me and I would have done anything to see him happy. In fact, I was going to ask him to marry me. I even still have the ring.

  I don’t know why I keep it. I guess I hold out hope that someday I’ll meet someone who can fix the pieces of my broken heart. But it would take someone extra special to accomplish a task that momentous. Moving way out here doesn’t really help that task.

  All I know is that I had to get away from the life I had. I needed to go back to my roots and focus my attention on healing. Building things people will enjoy for years to come heals me. It’s ironic really. Every time I finish a porch swing for some sweet couple I wish I had someone to sit outside and watch the sunset with.

  The way I see it is pain can do two things, it can make you bitter and angry to where you hate the world or it can make you numb and indifferent to where nothing affects you anymore. Unfortunately, I’ve experienced both. At first, I was angry at the world. I wanted to isolate myself in an attempt to save myself from any further pain.

  Then I got numb for the longest time. I’d piddle around my condo, order takeout a
nd try to fill the void in my life. That’s when I realized I’d become exactly what Devin said I was; a fat old man who never left the house except to go the grocery and buy more snacks to fill the emptiness.

  I needed to make a change, and that’s when I saw the ad in the newspaper for an elderly woman seeking a tenant for an old farmhouse in Brasstown. I promptly called the number and found out, that in exchange for a low rent she wanted someone who would keep up the place and make some repairs. It was the escape I needed.

  That’s when my life started to change for the better. I realized I was enough and that I could do great things if I set my mind to it. I’d learned how to fix and create things from my dad who was also a master carpenter. What started as an effort to repair this dilapidated old farmhouse soon turned into a hobby and my reason to keep on living.

  As the sun began to set I could smell the fresh-cut grass on the wind. I knew Annie would be sending something sweet before it got dark so I waited on the porch. Half of my heart was hoping she would send that sweet grandson of hers. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone nice to look at. Not in a dirty way, just to appreciate the beauty of youth and feel that connection you get when you talk to another person.

  I could tell by his demeanor that he was a loner like me and from the way he freaked out about dropping the pie plate, that he is empathetic. Empathy is an underappreciated trait in a man. It’s something you don’t know you need until you see someone demonstrate it toward you.

  I could hear the crackle of gravel under tires and stood to see if I could make out who was coming. It was Caedmon. My heart did summersaults as he pulled in front of the house and got out. I’d never been so jealous of the wind in my life. The way it gently blew his hair as he got closer to me. Oh to be that wind gently caressing his face.

  “Hi, Mr. Darby.”