Chapter 8

For the next three plus weeks, Christopher attacks his front yard and parts of Nan and Sarah's. He works during the week because he saves his weekends for sports, so he hasn't seen sweet little Sarah, who is so pretty and shy, for more than a few glancing views.

One day when he is raking up a new round of leaves, it dawns on him that he never fixed the step on their porch that is nearly ready to give way. He berates himself, and reminds himself that he guesses he still has work to do. Not on the yards, but on himself.

John got the number to the county to see if he or the county can remove the tree that is causing more havoc than it is worth, but he has only got the run around. "It is like dealing with molasses. It gets you nowhere fast and you come away from the experience a little more tacky than when you began it. But I'm not going to let you people get me down. If you don't help me, I'll accidentally run into it with my new chainsaw and blame it on Ryan." Christopher smiles, he's been doing that a lot lately, on this early morning of Saturday, March third, two thousand and twelve.

After he eats his morning cereal he goes over and asks Nan, "Hey, I've been meaning to fix that step of yours, so if you don't mind I'll do it now."

"That would be fine, thank you."

As Christopher is walking over to get the tools he'll need, he stops dead in his tracks as a thought hits him. "Unless you want me to build you a ramp with rails so it will be easier for you to come and go." How many times has Christopher seen a medical transport van come and take Nan to an appointment and watched her struggle down the stairs?

"Are you sure? That seems like a lot of work."

"It would truly be my honor. You are an elder of the white race and the human race, it is my duty to support your waning years."

"Are you racist, Christopher?"

"No, ma'am. I am white pride. I take pride in my beautiful tribe, but I show that in the love of my people not the hatred of the others. Asians are beautiful, and I admire many of their eastern philosophies. The blacks have a bond that is worth admiring, though it often backfires on them when they support somebody just because they are black, not because they are right. The many new tribes of Hispanics are beautiful good people. The American Tribesmen are a beautiful spectacular people who have a marvelous connection with our mother world. No, Nan, I am not racist. I have had the great honor of serving with and fighting beside members of all the tribes of Mother Earth, and I am a better person because of it."

"Wow! Well spoken, young man."

"Thank you, ma'am." Christopher looks behind Nan to just inside the house, and he sees that Sarah has been listening to everything, but once she sees him noticing her she disappears.

"If you would care to build me a ramp I would be most grateful."

"Great! I have to run up and get some more wood, but I'll start when I get back." and with that another good day is in progress. "Looks like sports will just have to get along without me for this weekend."

After Christopher gets back, he brings over two sawhorses, the skill saw, power drill and several well placed extension cords so he can begin once he takes the precise measurements. Measure twice cut once has always been a great motto to work by, but because he easily gets lost in his head, he usually ends up doing it three or four times until he gets annoyed with himself and starts writing everything down.

It is at that point that everything starts getting really complicated, because he is never satisfied in just writing something straight and plain. He could make many art books from his doodles, and as he is standing out there getting ready to start he finds himself laughing to himself.

The first step is to tear out the old steps. He thinks to just incorporate them into the ramp for stability, but as he is going along, he sees more rot than just the one step he noticed before. Christopher has remodeled more than one home, and he begins to hope in earnest that this does not turn into a major repair. Not just the steps, but also the whole porch.

Besides a few needed side-support boards, he finds that the porch, though weathered, still has some years left to it. "Oh, thank God."

As Christopher prepares to cut the first of the framing two by fours he stretches, and when he does his eyes go skyward and he unintentionally sees Sarah looking at him from the upstairs window. She quickly hides off to the side. Now that he has got it in his brain, he starts looking up there every so often. Every time he finds Sarah watching him. On the fourth time he looks up she does not try to hide. As she is standing there, Christopher waves up to her and she smiles and half waves back. The next time he looks up there she is gone.

"Hey, Nan." calls out Christopher.

"Yes."

"I got the frame pretty much done, but it's getting dark and I want to put my tools away before it gets completely dark. If you or Sarah have to get out can you use your side gate? And then I'll get right back on it in the morning."

"Of course."

"Great. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight." and then Christopher notices Sarah peeking around the frame of the front door. "Goodnight to you too, Sarah."

"Goodnight." she says in her sweet voice.

Nan is totally shocked that Sarah has responded to him. With big eyes of surprise Nan says, "Sarah very rarely talks to anybody, not even her teachers, since her parents were killed in the car crash."

Christopher looks back up to Sarah but she is long gone. "I'm sorry to hear that. At least she has you, and that's a lot more than some people have."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Christopher."

"Goodnight."

After he gets his tools put away and he is sitting on his couch looking to see if any pre-season games of his Oakland Athletics are going to be on, he says to himself, "Maybe it's not that she is shy, but that she is withdrawn. Man, do I know how that is. Poor sweetheart." As he is shaking his head he takes another drink of beer.

"Day two, here we go."

Not two minutes after Christopher has everything set up, on a day that by ten o'clock is already promising to be a warm March day, Sarah is watching Christopher from the living room window. When Christopher notices her, she quickly hides from his sight. She does that another two times. The third time she just lets the thin under curtain fall in front of her, but she does not move.

Christopher struggles to get the plywood sheet on the sawhorses by himself. With a tape measure, a straight edge and a pencil he sets up his needed cuts. "Let's see. If I cut going this way, the cord shouldn't get caught up."

"Good morning, Christopher."

He looks up in surprise to see Sarah looking at him from the now open door but behind the closed screen door. "Good morning, sweetheart." Sarah giggles and then turns around, putting her back against the wall just to the side of the door. She is smiling prettily.

As Christopher is getting ready to cut the plywood he does a quick look up, and this time Sarah doesn't move, she just puts her hands over her ears. Christopher gives her the thumbs up and starts cutting the piece of wood. It squeals to life until the excess wood falls away.

Trying not to continuously look her way so she doesn't get embarrassed or shy and run away, he picks up the plywood and sets it on the framing of the ramp. He cuts the second piece of plywood, but does not secure them yet. He goes and gets several cans of wood stain and paints it on to the framing and the underside of the plywood.

As he is doing that he hears the screen door squeak as it opens. He can't help but look up, and Sarah freezes with the screen door halfway open. He quickly looks away. Finally Sarah comes out the rest of the way and is leaning back against the screen door with her hands behind her.

Once again, without seeming to, Christopher finally gets a good look at her. He was right; she is one of the prettiest nine-year-old girls he has ever seen. With some regret he has to admit that she is even prettier than his ten-year-old niece Katie.