I finished my shower and got ready in record time after I realized I’d enjoyed the hot water a little longer than I had intended. Fifteen minutes later, I was headed to the small town down the road to meet with Mr. Sharp for coffee, stoked that I wouldn't be helping Ryan move the last of his stuff this morning.
The meeting went well, and he asked to see more of my work, so I took him to the shop and showed him the pieces I had already completed, plus the plans for several projects that I wanted to finish before competition season began.
Mr. Sharp moved around the shop, but kept coming back to the piece situated in the middle of the room. “This table is amazing,” he said as he ran his hand over the glass top. The legs were made from small tree trunks that had been sanded down and then polished.
“Thanks. It took me a couple of weeks to complete that table. You have to find just the right combination for the base. It’s my favorite, and it’s very similar to the one I made for myself.” I walked around to the coffee table and a chair that matched it. I smiled and followed his eyes as he looked over each piece.
“Well, you do outstanding work. I will certainly take all of this information back to the partners and see what kind of deal we can work out for you. If we can provide the wood, then maybe that would decrease the cost?”
“Actually, I only use reclaimed wood. Please keep that in mind.”
“Very well.” He reached his hand out, and I took it. We shook before I showed him back to his car, passing Ryan in the field behind the house as he worked to put a piece of wood in its cradle, preparing for our practice session.
After I said goodbye to Mr. Sharp, I walked back around the house to where Ryan was setting up and helped him put another log in place.
“We have to shave just over a second from our time to be in the same ballpark as Smith and Brown.”
“I know,” I said watching him as he moved over and picked up the saw. We practiced for an hour before switching to our individual disciplines. Springboard was my best event, but I was only ranked third in the nation, and I wanted that world record. My best time was a half a second from the record; I just had to get over the hump.
Ryan got everything ready for my practice run, and I went to work.
“GO!” Ryan shouted, and I started to swing the ax. I chopped the hole and placed the springboard working my way up to the next level. The ax sliced through the air, and I moved quickly, trying to beat my best time. I finished just under my best and dropped the ax to the ground.
“Dude, I know you can do better than that.” Ryan shook his head as he looked down at the timer on his phone.
“I know. Maybe if people hadn’t kept me up all night, I would be better rested,” I smirked back at him.
“Totally worth it.” He laughed then moved over and picked up the ax handing it back to me after I jumped down from the top board.
I stood by the log we placed in one of the cradles and started swinging downward, practicing my technique. The smell of freshly chopped timber reminded me of all the training I had done with my father. After a set of driving chops, I began my chips and smiled when the piece fell away. I started again and did this until I was almost to midpoint of the log. My drives penetrated to the center, and I turned and started the process over. If I didn’t drive right, my log wouldn’t separate, and that’s when I get frustrated. It happened twice. Ryan noticed my irritation.
“Take a break, and we’ll set it up again later,” Ryan said as he moved around me kicking at the pieces of wood that lay around.
“I don’t understand why this shit keeps happening,” I complained as I looked at my driving blows. They weren’t where they were supposed to be, and I didn’t know why.
After a fifteen-minute break, we worked for another couple of hours until my shoulders were screaming at me.
“Let’s just get this run over with and then grab some food,” Ryan said as he walked toward the house. He was practically living with me Thursday through Monday at this point since most of his stuff had been moved already. We had a couple of months until the next competition, and he wasn’t nearly as stressed as I was. We competed together in the one team event, but he didn’t compete individually. After almost taking off half his foot a couple years ago in the underhand chop, he decided that he would just stick to the team events.
“When is Emerson moving in?” I asked as we started down the driveway for our six-mile run.
“Should be any day now,” he replied. “I got the check for the first month and the security deposit almost a month ago. So, who knows. I started moving my stuff because I thought it was supposed to be earlier in the month. But hey, the
whole is paid for so... whatever.”
He asked about my meeting and we talked about that and the competition a little during the remainder of the run. A little less than an hour later, we were walking back up the driveway, cooling down. Ryan reached the porch first and pulled the screen door open but let go and let it slam into me when he released it.
“Asshat,” I said as I pushed it back and moved into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
“That was payback for locking me out last week.” He yelled from the stairs as he ran to grab a shower.
As I sat at the table and looked over the competition series dates, I tried to figure out how many days per week I would actually have to build furniture once the season was in full swing. I guess I should have made it clear to Mr. Sharp that things would be a little slower once that started. Of course, they had to decide to pick up my products first.
Chapter Two
Emerson
I hated packing more than anything. I especially hated that I had to pack. Stupid political red tape was ruining my life. The grant I had busted my ass to get a few years before had been pulled, and that meant I had to move back toward home. It wasn’t a total tank, though. I was looking forward to being near my family in Portland again, and I was actually able to get on board with a research program only an hour away from the city. My grandfather had offered me a job at his environmental awareness company, but that meant more desk time than I wanted. I liked being in the woods and watching how trees and plants worked. I’ve always kind of been a nerd like that—an outdoorsy nerd.