A Family Legacy: THE WATSON WORKS
by Wilson James
Tragedy has struck the Watson family more times than any family should have to bear. Connor, the younger of the two young teen brothers, will have a chance to prevent a similar tragedy from happening to another family, but before he gets that chance, he will have to work hard to keep his own small family intact. Connor will have to make some tough choices, and have to make a stand to support his new family, but will find support in unlikely places. He will know unhappiness and despair, but will ultimately find the strength to do what is needed. Join Connor in his search for happiness and a loving family.
A Family Legacy: THE WATSON WORKS is an unlikely story of family, adventure and courage displayed by young family members who have lost their parents in two separate tragedies. In coming to terms with their loss, they find the strength to help themselves and others, and at the same time build a new family to replace what they've lost.
A Family Legacy: THE WATSON WORKS
Smashwords Edition, January 2010
Copyright ©2009 by Wilson James
Cover and inside Photo Credits: Wilson James
Smashwords Edition License Notes
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, public or private places, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to a boy who once hoped and dreamed that he could make a difference. You know who you are, and this story is for you.
CHAPTER
1
"We've got to take control over our own lives, David," objected Connor, wanting to put some backbone into his brother's anticipated response to their uncle's expected bad news.
David started to respond. "I know what you're trying to say..."
"We can't let this be a repeat of what happened when Dad died," Connor interrupted, referring to the tragic drowning four years ago. "This time, we can't let the adults around us take over everything. We're not just pawns, David."
David knew that Connor was worried about where they would go, and who would be put in control of their lives, but he just didn't think that he had the energy or motivation to face another challenge. As far as David was concerned, things had been so difficult for so long that with the news of his mother's and step-father's deaths in a ferry sinking, he felt as if all the fight had gone out of him.
It seemed as if he had spent all of the last four years looking after Connor as well as thinking first and foremost about what would be good for his widowed single mother. David's personal interests, wants and desires had been suborned to the good of his mother and brother, and now, just when it appeared that he might be able to pursue some things that he really wanted to do, everything was back on his shoulders. David just didn't think that he could do it again.
When their father had died, David was eleven, the same age that Connor was now, and a lot of the challenge of keeping their lives under control had fallen to him. Certainly it didn't help that their mother, Sally, fell apart initially, but there was just so much to do to keep what was then the Cameron family going that a lot of things fell to David.
Later, after Sally met Brent and they prepared to move to a new state and live with him, David felt he had even more reason to protect his own interests and those of his younger brother.
Connor could tell that his brother was overwhelmed, and just didn't have the fight in him right now, and knew it was up to him to think things through. It wasn't that he was unaffected by the deaths of Sally and Brent, it was just that he was thinking clearly right now, and knew that they only had one chance to make it right.
"We've got to tell Uncle George what we need him to say about us, David," continued Connor. "We have the ability to make things work out on our own, but only if we think this all through."
Connor knew what he wanted. He wanted to keep and operate the machine shop, and he wanted David and himself to live on their own. That could only happen, though, if their Uncle George, who had his own life and family five hundred miles away, ensured that there was no undue attention drawn to the now-orphaned sons of the tragic victims of the ferry sinking.
"What do you mean, Connor?" Asked David. "What should Uncle George say about us?"
"Well, David," Connor started to explain, knowing that he finally had his brother's attention, "That's what I want to talk you about ..."
CHAPTER
2
It was late in the evening, about sixteen hours after the sinking, and the boys were sitting waiting for the 'bad news' call that they knew they would shortly be getting from their uncle.
The two boys were sitting on stools at the front counter of Brent's new shop, the South Valley Machine Works. It was a good-sized shop, with a long counter running the front of the glassed building-front, and machines and parts filling the rest of the thirty by forty foot area. The only part that was closed off from the main room was a good-sized bathroom, shower and change room in the back corner, along with a lunch and meeting room that stretched across the rest of the back wall.
The feeling one got when walking in the front door was one of a modern shop that used new technology well, but all contained in a building that maximized use of local timber and building norms. As far as the family was concerned, the extra shower and meeting room space helped to make up for the trailer accommodation that was their home.
With Sally's enthusiastic support, Brent had given his notice to quit his job as a welder for the logging company just three weeks ago, and was about to dive full time into his new business. The family, David and Connor included, had spent a lot of time over the last five months getting the building ready, and 'the Works' had already started getting customers through the front door.
Brent had planned on opening officially at the end of November, and had timed his notice to the logging company to coincide with the annual shutdown of logging operations for the worst of the winter months.
Sally, who had met Brent through some friends about two years ago, had moved her boys to Franklin Lake at the end of the previous school year after a year of an increasingly intimate long-distance relationship. The boys had accepted that their mother might eventually find someone to replace their dad, and had acknowledged the need to move, albeit reluctantly.
Brent, who had two younger daughters and a son from a first marriage, made a real effort to get along with Sally's two sons, and the boys, at the request of their mother, made their own efforts to get along. The result was a reasonably functional household that was settling down as far as family was concerned, but one that was undergoing some changes due to the impending opening of the business.
The Works was a good thing for all of them to focus on, however, and it did serve to bring David and especially Connor closer to Brent.
The living circumstances were not all that attractive initially, as Brent had sold his house to put the money into the land and a building fund to allow the creation of his new business. Apparently, Brent had told Sally early on in their relationship that he had wanted to start his own business, and she had encouraged him to do so.
When Sally and the boys arrived in Franklin Lake the previous June, they moved into a 26-foot travel trailer parked on the back of the property that Brent had bought to put his building on.
The boys quickly found themselves pressed into duty as builders. Brent had what the boys initially thought were ambitious plans, as far as building size went. He'd had the foundation and framing done by a contractor in the month before his new family's arrival, but his budget would require that most of the work would need to be done by Brent and his new helpers.
David, in particular, was a little resentful at being put to work in that way, thinking not incorrectly that he was being taken advantage of. Given David's now-adult size and strength at the age of fifteen, a lot of the heavy work fell to him, but Connor, who at eleven was big for his age and pushing five and a half feet, was being expected to do most of a man's job, as well.
Brent was continuing his work as a welder, so each day would start with him almost literally rolling the boys out of bed at six, and requiring them to follow him around the work site for half an hour, getting instructions for the day, and frequently doing some heavy work that all three of them were needed for.
At six-thirty, Brent would head off to work, and the boys would have about half an hour to wash up and eat breakfast before starting their tasks for the day. With a couple of stops for breaks and a bit longer stop for lunch, they pretty much worked on their own.
Their mom had found work, in town, at the one of the grocery stores for a few hours a day, so she wasn't there all the time. When she was home, she did help a bit, especially when they got things far enough along for finishing work and painting. When Brent arrived home late in the afternoon, he would expect the boys to work alongside him for a good hour or two, before finally stopping for supper.
After supper each night, Sally monitored and help the boys with a couple of hours of schoolwork. This was the part that they actually looked forward to, each of them wanting to try and get ahead of the school grade that they'd been in back home. Sally, who had trained as a teacher in her younger years, had suggested that the boys could use the move to advance themselves if they wanted, and both of them were enthusiastic about it. David hoped to be able to finish his high school work, and take the GED exams. He'd finished his sophomore year back home, but both he and his mother were optimistic about his ability to complete high school on his own. Connor had just finished 7th, and had plans to move all the way into his junior year, if he home-schooled for a year.
As part of that effort to move the boys ahead, Sally talked with them about the need to re-make their identities, and suggested that they consider taking Brent's last name of Watson as their own, as she had done when they moved to Franklin Lake. Brent had been insistent that the boys adopt his name, but she wasn't about to admit that to her sons.
As she explained it, "We'll find a way to get you some ID that will show a new birth date and name, and if you take the home-school and GED exams in the name of Watson, that will also help establish you."
"But, mom..." David had started, "I don't want to give up Cameron." It was their Dad's name, and it was one of the only ways that they could still feel some kind of attachment to him.
"I know what you mean, David," she responded, "And I'm not suggesting that you give it up. Keep it as part of your name, and make Watson the last name."
David glanced at his brother, to see what Connor's reaction was. If his younger brother wasn't going to object, then he didn't have it in him to fight. David was physically and emotionally exhausted from the strain of the last few years.
Connor, too, recognized the futility of fighting this fight, knowing that if they didn't give in to their mom, they would have to fight it out with Brent, and they would lose. He nodded at David.
"Okay, Mom," David agreed, in a reluctant voice.
Sally knew that they were unhappy with this outcome, and resolved to give them something to look forward to. She talked it over with Brent later on, and suggested that the boys be given the opportunity to do something on their own once a week.
Recognizing that the boys needed some time to themselves, Brent agreed with Sally that they should give them most of each Sunday to go hiking, swimming or canoeing in the area.
Brent wanted them to explore the area, and used the excuse that they could take advantage of the recreational opportunities of the area. He also had one other motivation that he kept quiet about, and that was to educate the boys about the area in which they now lived, and which knowledge would help them relate to 'the Works' customers.
Brent's idea was that David could help man the shop if he, Brent, was out on a call, and would need to interact with customers. Also, given that Connor was going to home-school, there was no reason that he couldn't help out as well, and Brent was determined that he would.
By early October, the building was pretty much finished, and Brent started the process of installing the necessary equipment. As each piece was installed, he started trying it out and using it. He also tried to teach the boys how to use the equipment, and it turned out that Connor picked up on the skills better and faster than his brother.
At the same time, David had prevailed on his mother to agree to allow him to apply for some work at the local swimming pool, something that he had been starting to do back home, and which he really enjoyed. He also reminded his mother and Brent that the wages were pretty good, and that would help the family a bit if he had his own money.
Brent was a little reluctant to allow his 'step-son' to work outside the home, but finally agreed to consider the possibility once the shop was finished and open, possibly in December. He warned David that any outside work would be restricted to evenings and weekends only.
By the beginning of November, the business was pretty much ready to go, and even without advertising, some customers had found their way to 'the Works' and there was work to do. Brent's word of mouth and the fact that South Valley Machine Works was on the main highway just south of town brought people in the door.
Connor was helping more and more, and was even able to do most of the work that came into the shop during the day, while Brent was still at work. David tried to do his share, as well, but Connor was a careful and thorough worker, and his work was better than David's.
David wasn't just sitting around though. He started working on improving their trailer, building a large porch area that would make things a lot more livable during the coming winter. He also built a proper, graded walkway from the trailer to the back of the shop.
Finally, they family's new life was almost ready to go. David had one more thing to do, however, between his quitting work for the logging company and really getting to work in his own shop. He wanted to take Sally on a bit of a trip. It wasn't really a honeymoon, as they had decided not to officially marry, but he wanted a little time with her on his own.
Sally was initially concerned about leaving David and Connor on their own, but the boys quickly assured her that they would be just fine, and for her to just go.
What Brent decided they should do was to travel to see his brother, George, and spend the Thanksgiving weekend with them, before returning on a coastal ferry. They would fly one way, then take the ferry trip, and finish the journey by bus.
It was on the ferry trip that disaster befell them. They were the only two victims, out of a passenger list of over a hundred, of the first-ever sinking of a ferry on the west coast.
CHAPTER
3
Initially, when David and Connor heard of the ferry sinking on TV, the report was that there were no deaths, and in fact, no injuries among the passengers. Their Uncle George, who had put his brother and 'sister-in-law' on the ferry the evening before, phoned David to tell him that he was just waiting to pick up Brent and Sally, and that he would phone when he got them back to his home.
It was a few hours later that George phoned to update them.
"Apparently," George said, "They can't seem to find out where your mom and Brent are. They're not sure why they're not on the list, and why they were not on one of the three main rescue boats."
George added that they shouldn't worry and that their mom and Brent would turn up. "I'll phone you as soon as I have some news," he added.
By this time, David and Connor were glued to the TV news, and had heard on their own that there were increasing concerns that Brent and Sally had actually perished.
It was at this point that Connor spoke up, and talked to his brother about what information that George should give to the media about Sally's two sons.
"If they know that we're only eleven and fifteen, we'll have the county or state social services in here before we know it," Connor asserted. "They'll take us away to a foster home, and this shop will be shut down. All of the money that has gone into this shop will be lost, and you and I will be left with nothing."
"How can you know that?" David asked. "You can't be sure of that."
"I'm afraid I can, David," answered Connor, knowing that he had to convince his brother. "You know we've seen it on TV, and you know that there's no way that they're going to leave two underage kids by themselves. We can't live on our own, and underage kids certainly can't run a business on their own."
David felt his world falling apart more than ever. If, in fact, his mom and Brent were dead, their life was pretty much over, as well.
"Oh, God," David said, "What do we do?"
Connor was, however, a few steps ahead of David this time.
"Here's what, David. We get Uncle George to tell the media that you're 18. That way, you're an adult, and there's no problem. As far as I'm concerned, he can say that I'm fifteen, or something. While there will be sympathy, no one will interfere with an 18-year-old looking after his fifteen-year-old brother, especially if the two of them have a means of support," Connor said, waving his arm at the shop that they were looking at, "This shop."
"It'll never work. They'll never believe him, or us." David asserted.
"Why not?" Connor pulled David around to look in his face. "No one here in this town knows us. We've already planned that you're going to say that you're a high school graduate by the end of this year. No one knows me, and I'm tall enough to pass for fifteen. Who's going to know, or say anything?"
"What about our old town?"
"Hey, David, that was a big city, and no one is going to put what they remember about us together with who and where we are now."
"Well," David said slowly, "I don't know..."
"Look, David," Connor said convincingly, "We at least have to try. If it doesn't work, we've lost nothing, and we've at least gained some time."
David's next comment was forestalled by the phone. He reached across the counter and grabbed it. Feeling just a little better about things, he answered it in a business-like fashion. "South Valley Machine Works."
As they boys expected, it was their uncle. The police wanted them to know that Sally and Brent were considered to have perished in the sinking.
"Okay, Uncle George," David said, "But here's what you need to say, if you are going to tell anyone about us." David's voice seemed to pick up more authority as he continued. "I'm 18, and Connor's 15, and we're going to continue to run the machine shop that your brother was just getting going, okay?"
Obviously pleased with the answer, Connor listened as his brother continued. "I don't think that either of us will want to travel up there, but we'll see. Why don't we wait for another day, or so, and see what more they say about mom and Brent?"
"Okay, Uncle George, thanks for phoning."
David put down the phone, and turned to Connor. "Well, kid," he said, smiling for the first time in 24 hours, "We've started. Let's see how far we can go."
Connor grabbed his brother in a tight hug. "You won't be sorry about this, David. You just watch and see how much I do around here. I'll take my share of the load, and more."
"Thanks, Connor, but don't overdo it."
Connor finally released his arms, sitting back to look at his brother. "Look, David. You've been doing so much for everyone for so long, it's time for me to step up and do my part."
"Okay, brother," agreed David. "You're on, but this is a family effort, so I'll be right beside you."
The boys hugged once again, now a little more ready for what would come their way next.
CHAPTER
4
It was almost eight o'clock by the time that they got off the phone with their uncle, so the boys closed up the shop and made their way out the back to the trailer. It felt strange to be there, knowing that everything that they did from now on was dependent solely on what they wanted to do. If they wanted to let things deteriorate and become lazy, they could. On the other hand, of they wanted to step up and really move ahead with their lives, they could reap the benefits that would accrue. It was up to them.
Back in the trailer, the two made sandwiches and then got ready for bed, still feeling that things were a little quiet without their mom and Brent.
As they sat for a few minutes, they talked about what things they might do over the next few days. David said that he was thinking that he might want to go out to the coast, and visit the scene of the sinking. Their uncle George had passed on an invitation from the ferry company, and David was leaning toward accepting, depending on what Connor's reaction was.
"I think you should go, David," was Connor's initial comment, as he took a bite of the second half of his cheese and salami sandwich. "I can look after things here, and I'll be just fine."
"Are you sure you don't want to go, too?"
Connor had already considered that. "Yup, I'm sure. I might want to go sometime, but not now. I'd really be much happier staying here, knowing that I was contributing to our family's business."
David hadn't expected Connor to want to stay behind, and wasn't at all sure that he like the idea of leaving his younger brother on his own for even a couple of days. "We might get in trouble if it becomes known that you're on your own. Maybe I shouldn't go."
"Look, David, we could get into a lot of trouble over the next while, but let's not let that affect us too much. You can pass for 18 a lot easier that I can pass for 15 or so. If we were both went, we might well attract more attention than would be good. I think that you should go."
"Well," David agreed reluctantly, "Okay."
Connor got up from the table and made his way to the bunk bed in the rear of the trailer, followed after a minute by David.
Once there, they talked for a few more minutes about how David should travel and what things that Connor would be doing on his own for the next couple of days.
Within a few minutes, they were both asleep. It had been a long day.
The next morning, David was up just after six and on the phone to their uncle George by seven, after talking to the local airline. He let George know that he would be flying up later that morning, and that he planned to stay for two days at the most.
In response to a question from George, he simply said that his younger brother would be looked after, and that Connor wasn't willing to travel up there at this time.
Connor was also up by this time, getting ready to head over to the building for a shower and a light breakfast before unlocking the front door by about 7:45, as usual. The shop's advertised hours were eight to five, Monday to Friday, and nine to noon on Saturdays, but the Watson's had already developed a habit of being ready and open a bit early each day.
At the end of each day, the family usually kept someone in the shop until closer to five-thirty on weekdays, and until almost one o'clock on Saturdays.
It was about half an hour drive to the airport, closer to the next, larger town, and David had to be there before ten. The boys had talked briefly the previous night about getting David a taxi, and Connor had been considering that and the cost as he stood at one of the machines a few minutes after eight, working to complete a customer order.
He was thinking that he should go back and see if David was ready, and phone the local taxi company.
The front door opened, and a man who Connor recognized as a repeat customer came in, wanting to leave an engine camshaft for grinding. As Connor greeted the man, he recollected this customer lived in their town and operated two automotive repair garages, one of which was in the next, larger town where the airport was.
After Connor made out the work order and confirmed the specs that the customer wanted, Connor asked a question. "Are you staying in Franklin Lake today, or are you going to your other garage?"
The man smiled in response to Connor's friendly attitude and demeanor, and replied, "Well, I'd planned on heading over there sometime this morning, Connor. Why?"
Relieved, but just a little unsure of himself, Connor answered, "Well, my brother's got to get over there to the airport, and I was just about to call the taxi." He paused, looking the customer in the eye. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask if you were going over there, knowing that you have a shop there. David's flight is a last minute arrangement."
The man looked at Connor, a not-unfriendly countenance on his face. "Well, what time does he need to be over there?"
Feeling reassured that his enquiry wasn't being dismissed out of hand, Connor replied, "He's got to be there before ten, really, as his flight leaves at ten-forty. He's only going out to the coast on one of the smaller planes, so he doesn't need to be there too early."
"I can run him over to the airport, Connor," assured the customer, "No problem. What time's he going to be ready to go?"
Connor quickly answered. "Well, he'd planned on being ready by nine or so, but I can get him to be ready earlier, if that would be more convenient for you."
"No, no, that's okay. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'd planned to checking out my local garage, so I'll go and do that, and then I'll stop here around quarter to ten and pick up your brother. Fair enough?"
"Oh, yes, thanks. We really appreciate this."
"No problem, Connor. I have to tell you that I really appreciate that I can get my machining done locally now, and I'm happy to help your family out."
The man left, and Connor turned to run out the back to find David and tell him the good news. David had just finished in the shower and was getting ready to head back to the trailer to finish his final packing.
When Connor told him what he'd arranged, David initially expressed a little misgiving, saying that he wasn't sure that they should accept a ride from someone they barely knew.
"Well, I know him," was Connor's response. "He's been in quite a few times already with work for us. He was one of the first people to come in and find out what we were all about when we first put up the sign out front. He goes over to check on his other garage a lot, so this isn't out of his way, David."
David looked at his earnest, younger brother. "Well, okay. Thanks, Connor." He reached forward to hug Connor. "You did good."
Connor felt emotional and physical warmth transfer from his older brother. They could be a good team if they continue to get along so well.
The customer showed up a little early, just after nine-thirty, and spent a few minutes talking to Connor while they waited for David. Connor decided that if he was asked he would tell this customer, and any others, about his missing and presumed-dead parents, but wouldn't bring it up on his own.
David emerged from the back, and Connor introduced him to the customer. David gave Connor a hug, and then was gone.
Connor watched them drive away, feeling just a little fragile. Now he was really on his own.
CHAPTER
5
Connor had resumed his work after David left. With a short stop for lunch, he had carried on into the early afternoon, trying to complete the work that they had on hand so that he could stop early for the day, and sit down to do some schoolwork. Between the shop and trying to get ahead on his home-school material, there was a lot to keep him busy.
David phoned just before three to let him know that he had made it, and was now at their uncle George's for a few minutes before going to the local hotel to meet with the head of the ferry company. Apparently George had told the ferry company that David was coming, and the boss of the ferry company wanted to meet with him.
Late in the afternoon, as Connor was sitting at the big table with his books spread around him, the phone rang. It was someone calling from the bush; a logging camp about twenty miles out of town.
The man, who identified himself as the camp manager, wanted to know if they could provide some machining of some part to fix a large crane at the top of a hill. It had broken down, and the logging company's mechanic said that they needed some parts machined in order to fix it. The mechanic also said that some new parts would have to be fashioned to replace old ones.
He said that the company that they normally used had said that the crane parts that needed repairing would have to be delivered to their shop. The man wanted to know if someone from Connor's shop could come up and look at the crane with the mechanic, and together determine what could be done.
Apparently, most of the logging operation was going to be shut down until the crane could be fixed. The manager finished by saying that they were going to do their seasonal shutdown in a week or so, but that they wanted to get the cut lumber off the ground before first snow, and the only way to do that in the time available was to fix the crane in place.
Connor was thinking furiously as he listened, knowing that the logging company would be a good customer if they could get a first job with them, and trying to think about a way to get up there.
The man finished his description of what he wanted, and waited for a response from the representative of South Valley Machine Works.
Connor broke the silence after only a few seconds. He needed to sound professional, and as usual, he tried to keep his naturally high-pitched voice as low as he could. "I think that we could help you out," he started, looking outside at the Watson pick-up truck parked near the front door.
It couldn't be that hard to drive up there, Connor thought. "Ah, I don't know that there's enough daylight left to get up there and have a look this afternoon," he continued into the phone.
"Well," the man replied, "It's about half an hour from your shop, I would think, and all we need is about thirty minutes of daylight for someone from your shop to examine the crane with the mechanic."
Connor looked at the clock on the wall. Quarter after four. It would start getting dark in just under an hour at this time of year.
"We'd be pushing it," Connor spoke, "And we'd be running out of light by the time we got to looking at the crane, but..."
"Look, if you guys could get up here tonight, we'd really appreciate it, and so would all of our loggers. If we could get that equipment up and running in the next day or two, it would mean a great deal to all of us." He paused. "Ah, I'll get the mechanic to set up some high-powered lights at the crane."
As Connor prepared to give his final answer, he looked around in the shop, thinking about what he would need to take with him to look at his first on-site estimating job.
"Okay," Connor said, a moment later, "We'll head out of here in five minutes, so look for our truck on your site in about thirty-five minutes."
"Thank you, Sir," the camp manager said. "Ah, by the way, what's your name, please."
"Watson," responded Connor quickly, again trying to deepen his voice. "Connor Watson."
"Well, thank you very much, Mr. Watson," the man enthused. "You have no idea how much this will help us."
"Don't forget that all we can do is look. There's no guarantees." Connor repeated words that he'd heard his step-father, Brent, use on a few occasions. "By the way, what is your name?"
"James Barry," was the answer. "As I said, I'm the manager."
"Okay, Mr. Barry, we'll see you soon." Connor hung up the phone.
First, he grabbed the truck keys from their hook, and headed outside. His eyes caught the wording on the side of the truck:
South Valley Machine Works
(The Watson Works)
Franklin Lake 845-5050
Connor unlocked the driver's door, and sat down in the driver's seat. After a moment's hesitation, he inserted the key and turned it to start the engine. He felt as if he was pretending to be Brent, instead of himself, imagining that he was sitting in the passenger seat, watching.
With the engine running, Connor climbed out, and took a look in the back, wanting to see what tool kits that Brent had left in the truck the last time he used it, four days previously.
Satisfied that the two large tool kits had as much as he would likely need, Connor left the truck running and headed back inside to grab a sweater, coat, and boots. He stopped for less than a minute to make a couple of sandwiches to take, and grabbed two sodas out of the fridge.
Less than five minutes after hanging up the phone, Connor placed the 'Closed - we'll return at..." sign on the door, and closed it behind him. He turned to lock it, noting that the sign promised that the shop would re-open at eight. He wondered what would transpire between now and then.
CHAPTER
6
Back in the driver's seat, Connor adjusted the seat and mirror height. He was certainly shorter than Brent, but he was tall enough to pass for a young looking adult driver.
As he reached to put the truck into reverse, he noted that the truck had just over half a tank of gas. At least he didn't have to worry about that.
Turning to look behind him, as he had seen his mother and Brent so many times before, Connor put the gear into reverse, and slowly lifted his foot off the brake. Without any pressure on the gas, the truck moved slowly backwards. Connor was driving.
He backed out onto the road, and put the truck into drive. There was no traffic, so he applied some pressure to the gas, and the truck almost leapt ahead. Steadying his hands on the wheel, Connor got over his momentary fright and steered out into the driving lane and down the road.
For a moment, he had a sense of disbelief that he was actually driving, but he calmed himself down by thinking that he'd seen people do this for years, and that it wasn't actually that hard.
After a quarter-mile at less than twenty-five or so, Connor gained enough confidence to increase his speed to thirty-five, and think about where he was going. He thought about what roads he needed to take and what his turn-off would be. Fortunately, Connor had paid attention to where he was going in the past, and knew exactly where he was going and what roads he needed to take to get there.
Out on the highway leading west out of town, Connor got the truck up to around forty-five or so, thankful that there wasn't any traffic. Fifteen minutes later, he reached the turn-off to head up to the logging camp. The last five minutes were on increasingly rough gravel roads, and he reduced his speed to less than twenty.
As he drove into camp, Connor felt more nervous than ever. What if they thought he was just a kid, and didn't take him seriously? What if someone even asked what business he had driving?
He was thankful that he'd worn his work boots, his loose-fitting coveralls with sweat pants underneath, and a heavy parka-type work jacket that he'd put on as soon as he stepped out of the truck. Connor also had a ball cap that he had already put on, pulling it down a little lower than usual over his face, trying to hide his obvious youth. He was also thankful that it was late in the day, that it was cloudy, and that therefore there was less daylight.
They must have been watching for him, because a man stepped out of a construction trailer, to direct him into a parking spot. Pulling his heavy jacket about him, Connor opened the door and got out.
The man eyed him. "Mr. Watson?"
In as deep a voice as he could, Connor replied, "Yes, that's me."
"Hi, and welcome," just a little lighter now. "We're sure glad you're here."
Looking around, Connor asked, "Where's the crane that we need to get working?"
"Up this way," the man directed with a turn of his head.
Connor grabbed his small measuring tools and a tape measure out of a toolbox in the back of the truck, and motioned for the man to lead him on. "Well, let's have a look, while we've still got a little light left."
It was less than a five-minute walk, and it the man introduced himself as James Barry, the manager that Connor had spoken to on the phone. Other than giving Connor a few curious glances, the manager was all business, talking about the history of repairs to the crane.
As they approached the big piece of equipment, the mechanic greeted them. "Boy, am I glad to see you."
"Show me what the problem is, and what you have in mind," Connor instructed, recalling words that he'd heard Brent use in the past, "And I'll tell you if it's something we can do."
Within fifteen minutes, the mechanic had shown Connor the broken parts, and what was needed. Connor had measured, and taken notes on a small pad that he'd pulled from his pocket. As he saw each piece of equipment that needed to be replaced or repaired, Connor felt increasing confidence that he would be able to produce what they needed.
Finally, the look-over completed, the three of them started the walk back to the trailer, and the mechanic asked the inevitable question. "How long will it take for your shop to get all this work done?"
Connor thought about it for a moment, trying to remember what they had in stock back at the shop. "Well," he started, "I think that I've got everything that I need to fabricate the new parts. I might even have them done by noon tomorrow. How quickly can you have the old pieces that I'm going to repair off the crane?"
The manager looked at Connor in open-mouthed surprise as the mechanic answered. "I could probably get them off and to you by early afternoon tomorrow."
"Good," responded Connor, feeling just a little pleased by the manager's reaction.
"Ah, I don't like to appear to be unbelieving, but we've never had anything this major done that quickly before," the manager observed. "I've heard that you have a good reputation already, but are you sure about your timeline on this?"
Connor thought for a moment. If he worked late, he could get most of the work done the same night, and he could get up early in the morning to finish. "Absolutely," he answered. He could always rest during the afternoon, or the next day. A chance to do well on a job like this was way too good to pass up.
They had reached the office trailer, and the manager invited him in for coffee. Connor thanked him, but declined, saying that he wanted to get back to the shop as quickly as possible. He really had two reasons to decline. The first was that he didn't really like coffee, and the second and more important reason was that he didn't want to take the heavy, disguising jacket off.
Connor reached out to shake the manger's hand, and promised to be in touch in the morning, and update him on the machine shop's progress.
Closing the truck door for him, the manager said, "Thanks, Mr. Watson. We'll talk tomorrow."
Connor quickly turned the key to start the truck, and prepared to put it into gear to drive out of the camp. Once again, he had a quick moment of nervousness and a vision of himself as a small boy, just pretending to drive. He had to remind himself that this was for real.
CHAPTER
7
Connor made his way home without incident. There was very light traffic, and he was feeling increasingly confident in his driving abilities. He'd continued to think that if he drove 'normally,' he had nothing to fear from any police, especially if he drove when it was dark and no one could see into the truck and figure out that it was a young person at the wheel.
Back at the shop, he got right to work, and with only a short break to fix himself a sandwich, stayed at it until a little after midnight. By then, he'd completed most of the work, and rightly figured that if he got going again by six or so, he'd be done by eight or nine.
He turned out the lights and headed out back. As he entered the trailer, Connor was struck by the silence. He was so used to it being cramped with all four of them, and now it was just him. The thought passed quickly, though. Once again, he was really tired, and fell asleep almost as soon as he crawled into his bunk.
It was quarter to nine, the next morning, when Connor placed the last piece of newly fabricated parts in a row on the front counter. Connor went back to inspect each item, satisfying himself as to the quality of the work and assuring himself that it would pass inspection from Brent or anyone else.
Finally, he took up a clipboard, and started to review the new inventory, which took up almost half of the length of the long counter. He listed each item, and accounted for the price that the raw part cost and how long it took him to fashion it into the needed piece. Then he went back to the office computer, and entered everything.
The software that his mom had set up for Brent automatically priced the job, and left a place for the insertion of the parts mark-up, the labor rate and mark-up, as well as any special charges.
He'd listened to Brent and his mother talk about pricing in the past. Brent had said that they should not start too low, because it was harder to increase the price. Better to start high, and then reduce if necessary.
Connor marked up the parts at twice his cost; his labor at twice what Brent priced himself at, and added two hundred for a 'site visit.' He was a little unsure, thinking that he was really taking advantage of the logging company, but then he decided that if they appeared to be concerned about the high invoice, he could always knock something off as a goodwill gesture. As he'd considered before, the big idea here was to win them as a customer, and continue to develop a good reputation.
Connor then went and got himself some breakfast, fixing himself three fried eggs, hash browns from the freezer, and toast. This was his celebratory meal.
Connor had finished, and had returned to the shop when the phone rang at about quarter to ten. It was David, calling to say that the ferry company was shortly going to announce that their mom and Brent were officially presumed to have gone down with the ferry.
The boys talked for a few minutes, mostly inquiring about how each felt about the news, but neither of them really was overwhelmed at all. They had known it was coming.
David suggested that he would likely be heading home in three days, if Connor was okay. Connor assured his brother that everything was fine, and that he had been doing some work and keeping busy. The part about driving the truck could be mentioned later.
Connor had barely hung up the phone when the camp manager phoned. Apparently, they were having difficulty getting the parts off the crane to bring them into town. Connor suggested that if they hadn't been able to get them off by mid-afternoon, he'd come out and see if he could be of any assistance.
In answer to the manager's question, Connor told him that all of the other, new parts were done, and that he could bring them up to the camp in the afternoon if that worked out.
Connor had thought about going up there earlier, but considerations of driving in broad daylight and being more visible in person kept him from volunteering that action.
In the end, Connor packed up the new parts, and closed shop at three to head up to the camp. Once he had a look at the cranes, he helped the mechanic by suggesting alternate ways of repairing, noting that they only had to keep the crane operating for a week.
The required old parts were in the truck by five, and Connor drove back to the shop. As soon as he'd parked the truck and got the old parts inside, he got right to work. Stopping only for a couple of snacks and bathroom breaks, Connor worked until well after midnight to complete the job.
Once more, he was so tired that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Yet again, he'd had no time to think about his recent tragic loss, something that was perhaps a blessing.
Connor was awake and up by five to load his latest work pieces into the truck.
By five-thirty, he was on his way back up to the camp, almost waking some of the crew with his arrival, still in the early morning winter darkness just after six o'clock.
The manager, the mechanic, and two others helped him carry the parts up to the crane, and while Connor was helping with the installation, the manager went back to the trailer to call in all his workers. The camp was going to get back to work.
By just after nine-thirty, the repairs were complete, and the crane was operational. Connor, who all present made comments about him saving the day, was escorted back to the trailer by the manager, and this time he accepted the offer of coffee, and toast.
After Connor removed his heavy jacket and sat down, and thanked the manager as he produced the coffee, Connor could tell that the manager was uncertain how much he should ask about this young man who had put their operation back in gear.
After five minutes, during which they talked about the camp's operations, the manger finally asked, "I can't believe someone so young knows so much. Your dad must be impressed with you."
"Well, I think so," observed Connor, slowly.
"You must have had the whole gang working all night to get all the parts done," remarked the manager, wanting to ask Connor how old he was, but not doing so.
"Yes, it was a late night." Connor wasn't going to say anything more than he had to, and was being careful. "I hope that you're satisfied with our work, Mr. Barry."
"Oh, yes," exclaimed the manager, "And the amount on yesterday's invoice is less than I would have thought for all the parts you guys made."
Connor was pleased that he'd padded it a bit. "Good. The invoice for last night's work and today's site visit will be ready tomorrow, if that's okay."
"Absolutely. We'll process them all within a week, and I'm certainly going to tell our corporate headquarters that we've found a new place to get our machine work done."
Connor finished up the piece of toast that he was working on. "Thank you for this. I'd better be getting back."
"Thank you, again, for your assistance, Mr. Watson."
"You're welcome." Connor acknowledged the thanks. "I'm just glad that we could help."
Connor was putting his coat on, and preparing to leave. "Make sure you call us if you have any problems, and for my own information, please let me know how everything works out for this last week of operation."
The manager answered, "Will do," as they walked out to Connor's truck.
Connor took one last look around, and then got behind the wheel. He started the truck, put it into gear, and headed for the road back to town. He couldn't believe what he'd done, and couldn't believe how everything had worked out. Things were looking up for him and the business.
CHAPTER
8
On the way back into town, Connor noticed that that the gas gauge was down to just over 1/4 and knew that he'd have to figure a way to fill it if he was going to keep the truck ready for action. Near the main highway intersection in town was one of Franklin Lake's only two gas stations with pay at the pump. At least he'd be away from any close up view, and could hide his youthful face in the growing gloom and cloud of an early winter day.
Connor pulled in, and using his own ATM card, filled the truck. That was something else he'd have to do, he thought. He had a bit of his own money, but he'd have to find a way for the South Valley Machine Works to pay him; at least enough to buy groceries and pay for a little gas. As far as purchase of raw materials for the shop, that was usually done through purchase orders and invoices, and his mom had been keeping the books and paying for things with checks.
When David got home, they'd have to sit down and figure out some of those things. They had a lot to sort out.
Connor pulled the truck up and parked outside the front of the shop, close to one end, where it would help advertise, but not be in the way of customers. He turned off the lights and engine, and sat quietly and unmoving in the silent truck as a few flakes of snow swirled around outside.
For the first time, he really felt alone and more than a little vulnerable. The enormity and finality of his parents' deaths finally hit him, and tears started to flood his eyes. The memories of what he'd been through in the last four years crashed like waves through his mind.
The death of his father, the struggle without him, the move to Franklin Lake and the daily struggles since then threatened to overcome Connor. As he considered what his life might be like in the next few days, months and years, he wondered how it all might work out. It just wasn't fair that he'd now been left without his mother and new step-father. No kid his age should have to do what he had just done just to survive and preserve his family's legacy, he thought.
As orphans, he and David were really at the mercy of whomever might decide to impose themselves into their lives and make things difficult.
All of these things went through Connor's mind as he sat, finally reaching for a Kleenex to wipe his eyes and wet face. It was about fifteen minutes before Connor's sobs finally stopped, slowly subsiding. After another few minutes, he got control of himself, and brought himself back into the here and now.
He looked out of the truck at the building in front of him, and thought back to his earlier goal of him and David managing their own lives. What he really wanted was for someone to give him love and affection and let him be a kid. He knew that was not possible in the short term, at least, but for now he was in control and that would have to do. He heaved a great sigh as he came to terms with his present circumstances.
Reaching for his gloves and hat, Connor opened the door and slid out of the truck, locking it behind him. He opened up the front door and made his way around to the back area, where he raided the fridge for a soda and the makings of a sandwich.
As he made yet another bologna and cheese sandwich, Connor reflected that he'd have to start getting a little more variety in his meals.
He took his small meal into the main area, and sat down at his mother's work area, pulling out her financial updates and trying to figure out how to make things work for himself and David.
He hadn't been sitting for more than ten minutes when the phone rang. David was calling to let him know about his boat trip to the small village and to the site of the sinking. Connor was really interested to hear how things went, and glad to hear from his brother.
David related that he'd been really well treated, and had received uncounted expressions of sympathy and condolence. After briefly asking if Connor was doing okay, David suggested that he might want to stay three or even four more days, until Saturday or Sunday.
There had been a suggestion from a local minister that he would conduct a small memorial service on the Friday, and David had said he thought it would be a nice idea.
David asked Connor one more time if he wanted to come out to the coast, but Connor declined again, repeating his earlier argument that it might cause problems and that he was okay with not going.
At that point, Connor suggested that he should plan on taking a return flight that would get him into the next, larger town in the early evening on Sunday, and Connor would arrange for a pick up to get David back to Franklin Lake. David agreed, not asking how that might be arranged, and as they hung up, Connor was already thinking about how he'd drive over there and surprise his brother.
It was a quiet afternoon for Connor, with only one customer late in the afternoon. Connor spent most of the time at the big table, stopping only to fix himself another sandwich around four o'clock. At closing time, Connor locked the front door and turned out the main lights.
It had been a long day, and Connor was quite tired from his two late nights. He put away the books he'd been looking at, and left the shop. At the door, he turned out the lights and locked the door, before making his way to the trailer. He was asleep only five minutes later.
The next morning, Thursday, found Connor awake just before six. He slipped out of his bunk and made his way inside to the shower. He reveled in the solitary quiet, knowing that there would be no one shouting at him to hurry because another person wanted to shower, or he needed to hurry because Brent wanted to brief him and get to work.
Feeling refreshed and newly motivated to face the world on his own terms, Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself, pulling on a clean set of overalls from the laundry pile. Brent had insisted that he and the boys wear coveralls with personal nametags in the shop to present a more professional image, something that Connor appreciated now that he wanted to look older.
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