Please Don't Thank Me With Salad

Mercy Chapter 8

Previous chapter: Frickin' Project Graduation

4:00 a.m. Dave turned the key in the studio lock that Perry had, with many loud sighs, restored to working order for him. He turned on his Goodwill lamp, creating a tiny warm oasis at the end of the vast dark void that would become his studio, his sanctuary. He plugged in his electric tea kettle, his hand hovering indecisively over his motley mug collection, passing over the others for an ugly orange one with an odd iridescent glaze and a small chip. When his tea was ready, he sat on the floor and sipped while he planned.

Today he would start the changing room. In that regard, Phil had had doubts. “It’s going to take more than a couple of YouTube videos,” he said skeptically. But Phil was underestimating Dave. Dave had watched, for hours and hours, his Dad’s hands, rough and blackened, working deep into the night after a fully day at the plant turning planks into furniture that was beautiful in its simplicity and soundness.

Dave’s hands were so different, smooth and slim, but he too could build something strong and beautiful. His movements through the morning were graceful and rhythmic, a dance, and by mid-afternoon, the skeleton of the small room was taking shape, all the rough patches sanded down to silk, all the joints tight and elegant.

The days followed this pattern, except on Coffee Club Mondays: up early, quiet walk to the studio with a clear head, solitary days of quality work, until the changing room was finished. The wooden floor shone, and the drywall painted a gray that was not too warm, not too cool and accented with crown molding, showed no seams. The lighting was soft, and he had splurged on the softest, fluffiest shearling throw rug. He tossed together a shoe rack to place by the door, its size determined by the scraps of lumber he had left. But even this little craft was done with precision.

At last, it was time for the pilgrimage.

The next afternoon was sunny, and he caught Phil in the yard.

“Hey!” he began.