Checking the beehives, he found the bees busy working and left them alone. Checking the pumps and readouts, Arthur made a few changes and then headed outside. As he headed to the patio to get the buggy, his cellphone chimed. He pulled it out and smiled, seeing the camera showing him the gate view.
Seeing a small semi on the screen, he tapped the screen as a man rolled down the window, sticking his head out. “Hey, Chuck,” Arthur said, tapping the screen again to open the gate.
“Want me to pull up to the shop?” Chuck shouted over the diesel engine.
Turning the volume of the speaker mounted under the camera to maximum, “Yeah, that’s good,” Arthur said and saw Chuck cringe back inside the cab. “Oh, guess that was too loud,” Arthur mumbled and turned the speaker back down.
He walked to the shop and saw the delivery semi pulling a short trailer with one large wooden crate and another half the size of the big one. When Chuck stopped, Arthur saw a delivery forklift mounted on the back of the trailer.
When Chuck turned the engine off, Arthur walked over. “Chuck, you didn’t have to bring your forklift, we could’ve used the track steer,” Arthur told him as Chuck climbed out.
“We have the thing, so I’m going to use it,” Chuck laughed. “Hey, thanks for calling and telling me you had that big one coming and I could wait to deliver. Saved me some money, not having to make two trips.”
“Sorry I took up some of your dock space for ten days,” Arthur said, shaking Chuck’s hand. Unfortunately for Chuck, he and Arthur had on gloves and Arthur had washed his hands and changed gloves, so Chuck didn’t get the lottery winning visitor.
Waving his hand and brushing off the apology, “Where do you want ‘em?” Chuck asked, taking the straps off the crates.
“Just set ‘em off on the ground and I’ll move them,” Arthur answered, following Chuck to the back of the trailer.
“What did you get this time, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Watching Chuck unlock the forklift, “The big one is a CNC machine I got from a government auction website. The small one is an industrial carder,” Arthur told him.
Stopping the task of unlocking the forklift, “Is that like some kind of slot machine?” Chuck asked.
Laughing out, “No, a carder is a machine that combs out fibers to process into thread and yarn,” Arthur told him.
“Damn, learn something every day,” Chuck said, finishing unlocking the forklift. “Where’s the other half?”
“She’s on a cruise,” Arthur answered, watching Chuck climb into the forklift and crank it up.
Giving a loud laugh, “So, you’re living the bachelor’s life for a little while,” Chuck teased.
“Hardly,” Arthur chuckled as Chuck lowered the forklift down. Chuck pointed at the ground near the shop and Arthur nodded.
As Chuck offloaded the crates, Arthur went inside and grabbed a flat of eggs from the fridge. Taking them outside, he saw Chuck was reloading the forklift. “Damn, that was fast,” Arthur said, walking over.
When Chuck climbed off the forklift, Arthur handed over the flat of eggs. “Here’s some eggs for you.”
Taking the flat of eggs, Chuck grinned. “I almost brought your card machine just to get some eggs,” Chuck admitted, setting the eggs on the trailer. “Can I see that 1911 again?”
Pulling his pistol out, Arthur ejected the magazine and racked the slide, ejecting the live round before handing it over. Chuck took the pistol tenderly. The metal finish looked like layered Damascus steel. “This is a work of art,” Chuck said in awe.
“Yeah, it took me awhile to figure out how to make the rings like the pattern of Damascus steel,” Arthur told him. Arthur did have guns that were bought, but his pride and joy were the ones he had made. He had made several pistols, half a dozen ARs, and two rifles. The only thing Arthur couldn’t make were the super small springs. Large ones were no problem, but he still hadn’t figured out how to make the tiny ones consistently.
“I saw one like this at a gun show a few years back and it had a price tag of twenty grand,” Chuck said, turning the gun over in his hands.
“Hey, I thought about selling some. You can make your own gun as long as it follows all the BATF rules, but you can’t sell them ever,” Arthur said. “When I looked into making them to sell, I found out you had to suck fifty bureaucrats’ dicks and let another twenty fuck you up the ass without lube. Since I don’t like either option, I’ll just make my own.”
Chuck busted out laughing as he stared at the pistol. “Yeah, you have to have permission on something that’s a given right under the constitution. How long did this take you?”
“I can mill out the frame and barrel in a day. It’s the steel folding that is a pain in the ass. That takes me a few days.”
Handing the gun back, “Will you let me know when you do another one? I would love to watch. Hell, if I could, I would buy one, just not for twenty grand,” Chuck said.
“Tell you what, you find me a nice dozer for a good price and you can come out here when I’m making one. I’ll hold your hands and show you what to do, so you can say you made it,” Arthur offered.
The open mouth grin fell off Chuck’s face. “What size dozer?” he gasped.
“Something around the size of a D4, but it has to have the
