“And you know, your dad had a few offers from the natural gas companies over the years.”
“Uh, no. No way.”
“Okay. What do you want me to tell the realtor?”
I looked at Elliot, and he studied the grain on the table. “I don’t think so. Maybe later on.”
I heard a car pull up, and there was a knock at the door.
Ugh. I had forgotten about Jodie. How was that even possible? She was carrying a couple of coffees and some sandwiches. She was in good spirits, though, and she handed me my coffee and took a seat in the living room, waiting for us to finish.
“Okay, as to the water pump. Have you checked the power supply?”
Elliot and I both nodded.
“Are there any loose wires? Is there a reset button?”
Elliot shook his head.
“Well, really, the only thing to do is call the pump guy.”
“Great! I left him a message. It’s the weekend, so I bet I don’t hear from him ‘til Monday. How much could this cost, any idea?”
Bill winced. “Well, anywhere from a couple hundred to a few thousand, depending on what’s wrong.”
“Ouch!” Jodie shrugged. “Sorry, don’t mean to butt in.”
“It’s okay,” Bill said.
“I don’t have any money to fix that. Did Dad leave a fund for that?”
“Not really. We could maybe pull some of the tax fund, but then you could lose the whole place if you don’t make it up.”
“Elliot and I found out that it’s a pain to water everybody using the house water.”
Elliot sat up and headed for the door. “Be right back,” he said.
I turned to Bill and asked him what to do. He said that maybe he could call around to see if anyone had any spare parts or something. That phrase – “a few thousand” kept rattling around my head. Bill looked out the window. “What the?”
I turned around to see what was going on. Elliot was striding across the driveway carrying a brick with a long string tied around it. He walked over to the center of the driveway and hugged the decorative well full of flowers, hoisting it up and setting it aside.
“What is he doing?” Jodie joined Bill and me at the window.
Elliot reached down and pushed away the rocks that were underneath the well, left, and returned with a shovel. He dug about six inches down, then you could tell he hit something he found curious. He dug more carefully, to clear a shallow spot a few feet across, then he reached down and pulled up a large board exposing a deep hole underneath. Soon the three of us joined him outside. He dropped the brick down into the hole, and we heard a faint splash. He pulled the brick up, and it was wet.
“Way to go, Elliot.” Bill was smiling.
“It ain’t good for permanent use, but it’d get us through until we can get the pump repaired.”
“How do we get the water up?” I asked.
Elliot straightened his pants. “I’m sure there’s some sorta pump around here someplace.”
Bill gave Elliot a ride home, and I finally sat down to lunch with Jodie. The sandwiches were cold, but still tasty.
“Sorry about all that.”
“No worries. What a crappy deal.”
“I don’t know where I’m going to come up with the money for it. Hopefully, it’s not too much.”
“Yeah, hopefully.”
“So, you ready to ride?”
“Hopefully.” I smiled. “Seems to be the word of the day.”
For a moment I became keenly aware that it was just Jodie and me now, alone without her dad, Elliot, Bill, library patrons, or staff. We threw away our food wrappers, put on our coats and muddy boots, and went outside. Sometimes in the winter, it feels like nightfall is always threatening, even at two in the afternoon. We walked down the driveway towards Sheila’s place, intent on making the most of what was left of the daylight, with our heads back and thick clouds trailing behind us from our laughter and conversation on everything and nothing.
February 24, 2013
I was so hyped from yesterday that I was not ready to write about my evening with Jodie yet, but here goes.
It was amazing! We talked about all sorts of things; farm stuff, geography of the area, school (she went to a local community college and BSU), books, movies, the community, and, of course, horses. When we got over to Sheila’s, the horses had already spotted us walking over and met us at the barn. Since it was winter and later in the day, Jodie didn’t want to do too much with them. She said Tucker was too much horse for me, so she had me talk to and pet Rosemarie while she put halters on both of them and wrapped their leads around the fence panel.
We went into the barn and pulled out a couple of brushes and some tack and sat them on a barrel outside the barn, then we went back for saddles and pads. Jodie showed me how to brush the horse down and how to clean and place the saddle pad, then she did the same with Tucker. She took one saddle and placed it on Tucker, tightened a bunch of straps, walked him a few feet, and cinched up a strap so tight, I’m surprised the horse could breathe. The whole time, she ran her hands all over the horse and talked to it in hushed but cheery sounds. “Good girl,” she said after every adjustment.
She grabbed Rosemarie’s saddle and asked me if I wanted to try. “Sure,” I said, “As long as you finish it. I’ll probably make it too loose and end up riding upside down.”
She handed me the saddle and
