When they reached the dooryard, Alan slowed.
“Right here is good,” he said.
“Did you get it running?” Bob asked, pointing at the outboard still mounted to the dolly.
“I did. You want to see?” Alan asked.
“Of course.”
Alan slid the dolly and outboard and trash can out of the little shed and into the morning light. The water sloshed. He made a show of pulling the choke, setting the throttle, and then made one dramatic pull of the cord. He smiled and removed the choke as the engine sputtered to life on the first pull.
“Impressive,” Bob said over the gurgling engine.
Alan shut it off.
“I’ve been working on the carb, trying to get it dialed in,” Alan said.
“Sounds good to me.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s a little rough, but I don’t know how it sounded when it was new,” Alan said.
He pulled a couple of long sawhorses from the shed out to the driveway. Bob grabbed one and set it up in line with the one Alan placed. The two men moved to opposite ends of the boat and nodded before they lifted it. They flipped it over and set it down on the sawhorses.
“There’s your problem,” Bob said. He pointed to the drain hole.
Alan laughed.
“Apparently, the Colonel called that the poor man’s padlock,” Alan said. “He kept the drain plug up at the house when he put the boat up for the winter. If someone wanted to steal the boat, they had to have just the right plug or they weren’t going to get far.”
Bob smiled.
“Do you know where it leaks?” Bob asked.
“Yeah,” Alan said. “Back here in the transom. The wood has rotted a little. Every time it flexes, water comes in. I’ve got some marine plywood. I just need to make a template and get it cut to size.”
“Not to be nosey, but why’d you drag the whole boat all the way up to the house for that? Couldn’t you just have brought the transom up?” Bob asked.
“House phone,” Alan said, pointing at the house. “My son has trouble at school and I’m half-expecting a call. Cell phone gets spotty reception down at the shore.” He frowned.
Bob nodded.
“You have kids?” Alan asked.
“Step daughter,” Bob said. “Well… Former step daughter. I haven’t seen her since the divorce.”
“That sucks.”
“It does,” Bob said.
Alan put his hands in his pocket.
“It’s getting cold out,” Alan said.
“Yeah,” Bob said. He lifted a foot, stretching his thigh muscle. He alternated feet. “I should get going before I tighten up.”
“Thanks for your help. I’ll get my hands on some epoxy one of these nights and then you’ll have to come over for a ride in the boat.”
“Cool,” Bob said. He bent forward and stretched once more before he jogged off.
Alan smiled and then turned his attention back to the transom. His first step was to remove the screws that held the metal cap on the top of the board. This is where the engine’s screws would clamp.
Bob jogged back up.
“I just realized—you probably can’t go get epoxy because you don’t want to leave your phone,” Bob said.
“Yeah,” Alan said. “It’s okay. Worst case scenario is that I have to wait a few days. I have an appointment on Wednesday morning to see how everything is going.”
“I’ve got several types of epoxy at the house. I’ll swing some by this afternoon if you want.”
“I wouldn’t want you to bother,” Alan said.
“It’s no bother. I’ll see you then.”
“Great, thanks,” Alan said. He waved as Bob jogged of again.
Alan was still waiting for a phone call that might never come when the SUV pulled into the drive. Bob pulled off to the side. Alan was sitting in a lawn chair in the shed with the phone bouncing on his knee.
“Still waiting?” Bob asked. He closed the door to his vehicle. He was carrying a plastic bag.
“Yeah,” Alan said. “I guess I’m just paranoid. No news is good news, you know?”
Bob nodded.
“I think this is what you want for the transom,” Bob said, pulling a set of tubes from his bag. “Looks like you’ve got everything ready.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to glue.”
Alan mixed the epoxy on a piece of scrap wood and Bob held the parts in place while Alan painted them with the stuff. They had the back of the boat put back together and sealed up in a few minutes.
“Now I just wait for it to dry,” Alan said. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer maybe?”
“Thanks, but no,” Bob said. “I have to go into town in a bit. I’ve got an appointment on Western Ave at four.”
“Sounds like you have a few minutes to kill,” Alan said. “Have a seat if you want.”
“Thanks,” Bob said.
He pulled up the other lawn chair.
“What does that say? Cook House?” Bob asked. He was peering across the driveway to the little building screened-in. It was painted dark red, like redwood, and had gray shingles. Now that Alan saw it with fresh eyes, the building looked like it would be more at home at a campsite instead of ten yards away from a New England barn. Maybe it added to the country charm of the place.
“You’ve got good eyes. Yeah, it’s where the Colonel keeps his grill. Nice in the summer when the bugs make it unbearable to be outside.”
“They’re brutal around here. I think I lost about a gallon of blood this summer.”
“How long have you lived in Kingston?”
“Just this year,” Bob said. “The house belonged to my ex-wife’s brother. He was going to default on the loan so we bought it and let him stay there. She begged me to buy it and then wanted nothing to do with it. I got the place in the divorce.”
“What happened to the brother-in-law?”
“Died,” Bob said.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. His choices killed him. Drugs and driving. I’m just glad he didn’t take anyone else with him.”
“So you’re fixing the place up to sell it?” Alan asked.
“Yeah, I suppose. I’m in stasis at the moment. I’ve got a couple of potential work projects that are simmering, but there’s nothing to do but wait. I figured I might as well work on the place until I figure out what I’m doing next.”
Alan nodded. “How much work needs to be done?”
Bob let his breath out slowly. “Well, depends, I guess. I need to finish the deck off the back. There was just a door leading to ten-foot drop when I moved in. Now it’s only a three-inch drop to the deck, but there are no railings yet. I need to put a porch on the front of the place. Aside from that, I’ve got to get some grass growing, just so it doesn’t look abandoned when you pull in. Then there’s a bunch of stuff I’d like to do.”
“Such as?”
“Bathrooms and kitchen, mostly. They’re just bare-bones right now and that’s what really makes a place I think. The rest of the house could just use a good coat of paint, but I should really re-do the kitchen and bathrooms,” Bob said.
Alan was nodding. “I did that down in Virginia. Bathrooms make a huge difference in the sale price. I envy you—I wish I could work on this place.”
Bob nodded. He didn’t ask for details.
Alan noticed the registration on the boat’s bow. He’d have to renew it to make it legal on the lake. It was probably one of those tasks their antiquated town government required you to go do in person.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened with your son?” Bob asked.
Alan glanced at him and then looked to the sky.
“School stuff—he bullied one of his classmates,” Alan said.