One Picture, One Story
Paul showed me a back room with a single window that overlooked the vast field behind the house. I dropped my bag in the corner and slowly walked around the modest space. The light flickered to life illuminating the room. The floors were old and worn, but not beyond repair, the walls were yellowed with time and ceiling had a single crack that meandered from one side to the next. Welcome home friend! Paul stood in the doorway smiling. All I could do was look at him and back to the room; speechless from his charity. Thanks was all I could reply.
There was a loud knock at the door and Paul sprang into action. I heard the creak of the opening door and some muffled voices, then the sound of metal scraping on the hardwood floors. I hurried to see the commotion and found Paul moving all the old desks to the door, still wide open. He motioned for me to help and one by one we moved them outside where a moving truck was parked, full of furniture. It was enough of the whole place including some couches, beds, kitchen table and a big flat scree tv. Paul was assisting the movers so I jumped in as well. In no time the school house was full of furnishings and we had loaded the desks into the truck. The local museum was good enough to take those off my hands. Would be a shame to waste them. Paul stood on the top step, surveying the landscape, appearing to be pondering something or looking for someone. I didn’t ask and I joined in on the pondering, taking a deep breath I tried to comprehend my good fortune. Well, let’s go organize that stuff, the beds need to be put together; I’ll get the tools from the basement
Paul disappeared through a door I hadn’t noticed before, reappearing with a beat up old toolbox. He skimmed the instructions and grabbed a couple screwdrivers and a small wrench from the box. He handed me the tools and told me my frame was the same and they were all I needed to put it together. I stood in my doorway, staring at the pieces of wood on my floor and feeling so elated that I couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand. I slowly followed the instructions and eventually got it together. Flipping the mattress on to the frame I noticed a plastic card on the end table. I moved in for closer look. It was a gift card of some sort for a clothing store.
Thought you might be uncomfortable with me taking you clothes shopping, so I filled that baby up so you can go on your own. It’s a great place. Locally owned and plugged into the community.
There it was again:local. What was it with him?