The Long Summer 12
After an hour spent locked within the shed, Xander finally emerged to survey the damage. The site seemed relatively normal if one counted puddles of water that steamed normal. Limping, Xander sidestepped the puddles and made his way over to the pump.
Or what was left of the pump. It was so much twisted and melted metal now. The dark clouds overhead hung ominously as he peered over the edge into the pit. The plastic covers were seemingly gone and the wood bracers looked like they'd been hacked into so many splinters.
Many were blackened and smoking.
He swore at the destruction and ran a blood-grimed hand over his face. His arms and chest ached. Every movement seemed to incite the little cuts to open and sting. A glance down at himself confirmed his opinion in the shed. His t-shirt was soaked with blood.
Sending a loose rock skittering with a violent kick, he made his way back to the now more beaten up pick up. The glass seemed relatively intact, but the already peeling paint job looked hideous. The pock marked metal showed signs of stress along the hood and sides. The contents in the bed weren't much better.
He was going to have to make a swing toward the lumberyard before going to the shop. There didn't even seem to be a splinter left in the bed, just charred lumps of the substance formerly known as wood.
"You all right there, son?"
Xander lifted his head from the damage to glance around and saw an older black man standing a few feet away. His hair was all peppery with its sprinkles of gray and his wrinkled face seemed kind.
"Yeah, just - " He was looking for a way to explain it.
"Got caught in the rain?" The man edged closer.
"Yeah." Xander nodded, running his hand through his disheveled hair. "Caught me a bit by surprise."
"Should get those cuts tended to." The man suggested. "You working on rebuilding the school?"
"Trying. Getting behind with all accidents this week. Expect clean up will delay us a bit more." Xander looked over at the worksite and sighed. He should get the clipboard out and document the damage. He'd need to order a new pump. He could also probably kiss off any bonus this summer.
"Tricky business."
"Huh?" He'd nearly forgotten the old man, who was now standing right next to him.
"Building the school. Tricky business in this part of town. Might have been better on the other side of Kentfield Park."
"Maybe so." Xander shrugged. "They didn't ask me."
"I remember when they built the other one." This close his dark brown eyes possessed a fathomless quality and they didn't quite seem to see Xander.
"What other one?"
"The one the little girl blew up." He laughed then. "Fine time that was, blowing up that old wreck."
"Yeah, I was there." Xander nodded.
"I know." The old man laughed again, a deep and rich baritone of a laugh. "It was a fitting ending for that pill of a building."
"How so?"
"You don't know the story?" Now the crinkled face was looking at him with speculation.
"No - can't say I do."
"They built the first school there in 1881, the second in 1898 after the first one burned down. The second burned down in 1904 and they didn't build another until 1912, got delayed though, by the big war, they didn't finish it until 1921. The third one was a bit funny, riots in the sixties - took it completely apart. Kind of strange though - them riots happened inside - lots of students died that year. I was here though when we started rebuilding it in 1972 - or thereabouts. That was the fourth school. The one that girl blew up. You building number five, my boy."
"Wow." Xander nodded slowly. "Thanks for the history lesson. I need to - "
The old man seized him suddenly and shook him hard. "Pay attention boy, this school is death, it's built on death, bred to death and promises nothing but death. It lives there - and it waits. It likes it when it's all destroyed, because that brings the builders back. Don't build this school. Do you hear me??" His voice rose in fever pitch and then ended abruptly as he released Xander.
Xander took an involuntary step backward and stared at the old man. "Oookay."
"Have a good evening, son. Don't forget, make sure you get them cuts tended to." He smiled kindly again and then shuffled off on his way. Xander stared after him, mouth slightly agape.
What a loony old man.
Shaking his head, he looked back at the truck and tried to remember where he was. He caught sight of the silver clipboard and snapped his fingers. Damage report, then the lumberyard. He still had plenty of time to get the counters and bookshelves measured out and set up.
After an hour spent locked within the shed, Xander finally emerged to survey the damage. The site seemed relatively normal if one counted puddles of water that steamed normal. Limping, Xander sidestepped the puddles and made his way over to the pump.
Or what was left of the pump. It was so much twisted and melted metal now. The dark clouds overhead hung ominously as he peered over the edge into the pit. The plastic covers were seemingly gone and the wood bracers looked like they'd been hacked into so many splinters.
Many were blackened and smoking.
He swore at the destruction and ran a blood-grimed hand over his face. His arms and chest ached. Every movement seemed to incite the little cuts to open and sting. A glance down at himself confirmed his opinion in the shed. His t-shirt was soaked with blood.
Sending a loose rock skittering with a violent kick, he made his way back to the now more beaten up pick up. The glass seemed relatively intact, but the already peeling paint job looked hideous. The pock marked metal showed signs of stress along the hood and sides. The contents in the bed weren't much better.
He was going to have to make a swing toward the lumberyard before going to the shop. There didn't even seem to be a splinter left in the bed, just charred lumps of the substance formerly known as wood.
"You all right there, son?"
Xander lifted his head from the damage to glance around and saw an older black man standing a few feet away. His hair was all peppery with its sprinkles of gray and his wrinkled face seemed kind.
"Yeah, just - " He was looking for a way to explain it.
"Got caught in the rain?" The man edged closer.
"Yeah." Xander nodded, running his hand through his disheveled hair. "Caught me a bit by surprise."
"Should get those cuts tended to." The man suggested. "You working on rebuilding the school?"
"Trying. Getting behind with all accidents this week. Expect clean up will delay us a bit more." Xander looked over at the worksite and sighed. He should get the clipboard out and document the damage. He'd need to order a new pump. He could also probably kiss off any bonus this summer.
"Tricky business."
"Huh?" He'd nearly forgotten the old man, who was now standing right next to him.
"Building the school. Tricky business in this part of town. Might have been better on the other side of Kentfield Park."
"Maybe so." Xander shrugged. "They didn't ask me."
"I remember when they built the other one." This close his dark brown eyes possessed a fathomless quality and they didn't quite seem to see Xander.
"What other one?"
"The one the little girl blew up." He laughed then. "Fine time that was, blowing up that old wreck."
"Yeah, I was there." Xander nodded.
"I know." The old man laughed again, a deep and rich baritone of a laugh. "It was a fitting ending for that pill of a building."
"How so?"
"You don't know the story?" Now the crinkled face was looking at him with speculation.
"No - can't say I do."
"They built the first school there in 1881, the second in 1898 after the first one burned down. The second burned down in 1904 and they didn't build another until 1912, got delayed though, by the big war, they didn't finish it until 1921. The third one was a bit funny, riots in the sixties - took it completely apart. Kind of strange though - them riots happened inside - lots of students died that year. I was here though when we started rebuilding it in 1972 - or thereabouts. That was the fourth school. The one that girl blew up. You building number five, my boy."
"Wow." Xander nodded slowly. "Thanks for the history lesson. I need to - "
The old man seized him suddenly and shook him hard. "Pay attention boy, this school is death, it's built on death, bred to death and promises nothing but death. It lives there - and it waits. It likes it when it's all destroyed, because that brings the builders back. Don't build this school. Do you hear me??" His voice rose in fever pitch and then ended abruptly as he released Xander.
Xander took an involuntary step backward and stared at the old man. "Oookay."
"Have a good evening, son. Don't forget, make sure you get them cuts tended to." He smiled kindly again and then shuffled off on his way. Xander stared after him, mouth slightly agape.
What a loony old man.
Shaking his head, he looked back at the truck and tried to remember where he was. He caught sight of the silver clipboard and snapped his fingers. Damage report, then the lumberyard. He still had plenty of time to get the counters and bookshelves measured out and set up.