Renewal 3 - Your Basic Swiss Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

that was made that day.
    We got to work unloading the barrels, and discovered that Mr. Carroll was as strong as a bear, cane or no cane. Dad said later that the man could have lifted the 300-pound barrels all by himself. We were wrestling with the first barrel, trying to tilt and roll it off the mower. George squeezed in across from Dad and just sort of heaved the thing onto the ground. We all knew it, but Kirk rubbed his hands together as if he had personally done the job. The second barrel came off just as easily. Mr. Carroll, after a lifetime of hard farming, treated it like tying his shoe. Task finished, he just scooped up his cane and moved on to the next item on his list.
    “Couple other things,” George said. “I brought you some tarps for roofing. A couple of them are worn through in spots, but most of them are in good shape. And this,” he added, pulling a silver flask from the chest pocket of his overalls, “Is for you, David. To take the edge off, you know? I made it myself. Corn whiskey, aged long enough that it might not burn your nose hairs out.”
    We thought that was hilarious, as it conjured a cartoon image of my dad running around with flames shooting out of his nose, but Dad accepted the flask with great ceremony. “Thank you again, George. This could come in handy,” he said, giving George a meaningful look.
    George nodded as if he understood completely.
    There was one of those weird adult breaks in the conversation, long enough that we started casting around for anything to use to pick it back up. Mom finally said she was going to get dinner started, and George sat down on the edge of the mower deck.
    “Take a load off, men.” George said.
    Dad sat down next to Mr. Carroll, and Kirk and I sat on the back side of the mower. Lucy rounded up the boys and headed off to help Mom with the cooking, although her help was mostly moral support.
    “So, David. What’s the plan?” George asked.
    “Well, we’re going to build a sort of fort in that big maple over there, and try to do our sleeping in the tree. We’ll cook over here. We’ll run out of fuel for these crappy little stoves soon enough, and be cooking over the fire. I figure if anyone sees the fire, it’s better if it doesn’t draw them right to us in the middle of the night.” Dad replied.
    “Sounds pretty smart to me. You ever serve, David?”
    “Yeah, but not in a useful way, for this setup. I was a submariner, in the Navy. Nuke subs.”
    George chuckled. “This is about as far from a nuke sub as you can get. Served in the Marines, myself, long time ago.”
    “Did you see combat?” Dad asked.
    “Not really. Got sent out a couple of times, but it was the end of Korea. Not much happening by the time I got there. I was out before Viet Nam really got rolling. I was just as happy to come home; had a girl waiting for me.”
    “Martha?”
    “Yep. She was a pretty little thing. Been married fifty years.”
    “Good for you. Fifty years is a long time.”
    “Sometimes longer than others. Women...” George said, trailing off in thought.
    “Amen to that. I married Beth 17 years ago. Met her at my first job out of the service. She took it upon herself to annoy me at least once a day until I noticed her.” Dad said.
    “They have their ways, that’s for sure.”
    “They do.”
    A woman’s voice intruded on our man time. “You were in the Marines?”
    We turned to see Francine standing there, and talking. Miracles never cease. George levered himself to his feet, and Dad hopped up like someone yelled, “Fire!”
    “Yes, ma’am, I was a Marine. I’m George Carroll.”
    “My Tom was a Marine. I was a nurse. We met in the service, when he was in the hospital,” Francine said, as if she had just walked into a restaurant instead of spending several days in a near-coma. “I’m Francine, Francine Henderson.”
    “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” George replied.
    “How are you feeling, Francine?” Dad asked.
    Mom and