The Drip, a novel by Michael Gullo
“I never thought it would happen. Why you so late?”
“Ya, bossman.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I beat you to work. I was checking out at Lowes when you two pulled in together like you slept in the same house, and Tanner, I beat you by like thirty minutes if you consider waiting for the stock guy to get down my water cooler.”
“Water cooler?”
“Yeah, water cooler. We don’t have a well yet, and I have three weeks and five days to outfit this shed, or I’ll be downtown at the Marriott.”
“Looks like a little more than a water cooler.”
“It’s a start. Load it all into the shed, please --- Cody, I see that you are already on the job and getting at it. You heard my instructions yesterday, and you are positioned perfect. Cold enough for you?”
“Yeah, right. I’m freezing my ass off, but Cody was shivering like a wet dog until the heater kicked in. I had to pile the dirt up a little for him, but he dropped dirt down for a few minutes, and we got set up to dig from below.”
“Ya, it’s a lot safer. I almost pulled myself over when I curled on a big rock.”
“I see that. It’s as big as a four wheeler. Good call there. Get off the ledge and cut from below.”
“It’s a pain cuz dirt rains down on me, and I’m gettin’ dirt bound with the spoils.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know where to dump them.”
“That’s okay. Cody gave you a little headstart so that you’re not sitting around waiting for enough pile to carry off. That stack will hold you until lunch.”
“Where’s it going – the dam or the land bridge?”
“We need the dam filled down the back, and we can’t be sure this is enough, so we’ll ferry it over until this soft stuff packs down to the culvert. Then pad this a new foot deep and back to crossing to dump it over the dam back.”
“Just dump it over the edge anywhere?”
“No. Right over the outflow side of the spill pipe. I want ten dump trucks worth on there at least to keep it plugged when we pull the section up here. If the water falls out into the pipe, I want it plugged up on the back side.”
“Got it. Right down the middle. Fill in the hole. Do you want me to pack it down a bit once it gets filling?”
“It’s a tough pack back there. That hole is fierce. Ten dump trucks is something like three-hundred skidsteer buckets full. At four minutes round trip, that’s a few days of back and forth. This will take time. But yes, pack it as the dam back stretches out and you can get down or at least up the back of it. Gonna be a while. Keep at it. I gotta go help Tanner here get started.”
“Will do.”
“So, put the insulation batts outside for a minute. We need to install some outlets and some lighting.”
“I saw that. Two rolls of Romex? Five hundred feet?”
“Yup. This place won’t use all that, but Romex goes fast.”
“Yeah, why plan the runs and math it? That’d be silly. Best just buy the aisle and stock up.”
“I see, snarky’s the flavor.”
“You caught that, did you? You really are moving into this shed. I guess I knew it was true, but - - - a portable air conditioner – with heat. How do they even do that?”
“It’s magic, buddy. A reversing valve.”
“Suddenly moving to a shed on January thirtieth doesn’t seem so disturbed.”
“Oh, it’s disturbing. Don’t let the mini fridge fool you. I gotta order at least eight more batteries and get them here and balanced. I gotta install three times as much solar, and I gotta get this place insulated, or there ain’t no amount of electricity could keep it warm enough.”
“Gonna be cozy.”
“Ten years ago, this wouldn’t be possible. Today I’ll do it with heat and air and a refrigerator.”
“Where you going to the bathroom?”
“That’s the other today thing. The septic permit is in, and Robby Giles is coming to look at the location. We could have a one bedroom septic system installed within a few days.”
“Won’t the toilet freeze?”
“That’s the thing. We don’t have any water, so every flush will be poured from a bucket. No water left behind to freeze.”
“Not convinced, but I’ll watch.”
“For now watch that stack of electrical. I like how you stacked the categories of shit.”
“Expensive day.”
“Not a penny wasted.”
“Did you really need a plant?”
“Yup, I did. It’s like my coalmine canary. If that thing dies before I move in, it’s Marriott for me, and some kind of foster for Kitty.”
“We have a pitbull.”
“You saw that, did you?”
“Neon sign.”
“Ouch.”
“Did you see Stef’s face the other day when you said, ouch?”
“It’s your fault, you little prick. You started it.”
“Hey, don’t blame me you program easy. So it’s, Back to the howling old owl in the woods… Goodbye yellow brick road”
“Hell, kid. You themed it, even.”
“The yellow wire inspired me.”
“So, back to the yellow wire in the room, it goes here on these waaaaaallllls.”
“You don’t have a day job, but don’t let that fool you, singing ain’t your bag.”
“Nope. Telling smart asses where the wire goes, that’s my thing. It’s two separate circuits landing on this wall. One dedicated in case I want the coffee pot and the microwave at the same time, and the refrigerator just happens to kick on the compressor. On this side, two circuits again, one dedicated to the climate control. I need a ceiling light and fan with a two-way switch at the door and here on this wall so I can get the light from the bed.”
“Bed?”
“Futon. But we won’t put that in until a day or two before.”
“Got any other outlets in mind?”
“I need these two USB combo outlets so I can charge the phone and all that. So two outlets on each side in addition to the already mapped ones. And one dedicated circuit here in the middle of this wall. This is where I’ll put the TV. There’s a shot of co-ax in here somewhere. We have to run it down through the stud wall bottom plate to under the shed. I’ll have Directv transferred to this address and get it installed here sometime right before the move.”
“Wait. You’re going to have HVAC, a refrigerator, a microwave, a TV, DirecTV, Internet, a cell phone. Will there be any other luxuries in your glamping trip?”
“I’m going to have a butler.”
“What the fuck.”
“You think I’m kidding. Well, Jeeves, you’ll be filling my toilet buckets for soon to come toilet in the mud. You’ll be picking up my water bottle replacements when you go to Lowes, and all of you will be cleaning my floor daily because it’s easy for me to make mud on the floor your fault. Furthermore, I got no way to cook, so much like you get us all breakfast on breakfast days, you will be spending your last work hour going to get the food I order.”
“Only if I get food too.”
“Deal.”
“You could just get a grill though.”
“Hell, no! Have you not been watching the same bears criss-crossing the site almost on the daily? I ain’t living in no shed with a grill right outside the door. And that’s another thing, Jeeves. I’ll need my garbage taken to the dump pretty regular too.”
“Cody and Rusty getting any of these chores, Pa?”
“Cody’d too soon get tempted to spit in my orange juice, and Rusty’s got a full family at home. I’m not sure I can afford to feed five faces a night from Ruth’s Chris menu.”
“Downtown? If I go to downtown Knoxville for food, I’m getting Emily’s dish too.”
“You in real estate now, renegotiating after the deal’s been struck?”
“No, and you can’t call it fine print when your mind was the only page. I won’t dare read that serpentine thing.”
“Once you snake all these wires in and land the outlets, start laying in the insulation.”
“Great, insulation.”
“It’s kraft faced at least.”
“How’s that matter?”
“One side paper. If you don’t blow your nose with the pink side, you should be fine.”
“I need this job. I need this job. I need this job.”
“Cute. Once the walls are done and the kraft edges stapled to the studs, use that tape and seal the seams.”
“Outlets, insulation, tape. Got it.”
“Okay, two more things. You need a hole in the wall here the size and shape of this exhaust hose and this backdraft damper.”
“Awesome! I was wondering what pile to put that in. Now I see it. When the machine is off, there is no airflow, the damper closes.”
“Outside stays out. And that damper is the trick. This Midea Duo does both heat and air, and its exhaust and intake all in one pipe. The secret is the spring loaded damper. It closes either way. Air flow stops, and the damper rails spring into place.”
“Warmest homeless guy under the bridge. Butler, HVAC with damper. How much did the shed price go up with all of this?”
“Well, the shed price didn’t go up. The shed was done. This is the retrofit. Not free though.”
“Who’s that?”
“Buddy, I can’t see it yet either. Sounds like a big truck though. Probly Robly.”
“Can’t sing, can’t rhyme. Good thing you can run a tape measure.”
“Robby Giles. Septic.”
“You Michael? I’m Robby Giles. Marshall tole me you needed a septic field installed.”
“Yup, and you, you’re every bit what I expected from a Marshall Grays reference. Look at you, man. You’re too big to get in my machine, and that face.”
“My face?”
“Did they use you to model all those tee shirts? I’ve never seen a man’s face so froze in place by his happy smile like I see right here in front of me.”
“We’re both Marshall vouched. Ever one of his is one he won’t work with no more.”
“I love that man.”
“And he thinks high of you too. This a real project you got yerself.”
“Nothing an actual dirt man can’t fix.”
“I see that road you got in. Can’t be all thumbs work two thousand foot of gravel wedge tween a hill and a stream.”
“Don’t leave the check on the dash on the way out, it’ll bounce right off with all the bumps in that two thousand feet.”
“How many arrowheads you find?”
“Arrowheads?”
“Well, yes. These hills all ’round make prime hunting ground back when the Cherokee own this land.”
“We found an old still. The tank was crust, but the copper coil line was plain to see. Almost neon green shining out from under the brush.”
“Probly lot of that up here you look around.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for those arrowheads.”
“Let’s see the job.”
“This bridge sets us up on the septic side. As you can see, the boys are filling in the gully to cross the stream. We’ll have a level land bridge there by tomorrow.”
“I set and watched that one boy in the skidsteer packing dirt around that culvert pipe dam washout. Have ye got enough dirt in this cut to fill the land bridge and the dam washout?”
“Beauty of owning the machines. We dig the workshop seat in stages, dump the spoils over the back of the dam, and when we’re done here, we pick up the land bridge and dump it over too. Take us a few weeks.”
“That’d cost a fortune if you had me do it.”
“Won’t be free this way either, three weeks of a three man crew, the fuel – not to mention I had to buy the machines.”
“Still, that quarter-mile road pays the machines off an’ then some.”
“Not quite, but close. If I add in the rest of the road, the dam, and two different foundation seats – here and the house to come – they pay for themselves.”
“What’s the other seat?”
“The house.”
“Oh, then you’ll have enough to fill the dam back, for sure.”
“That’s the idea.”
“So, I called the county, and I got your permit and the map they drew. Where do you see this going?”
“Right here. I measured one hundred and thirty feet out, and I mapped it between the trees.”
“I see it. Is that an old rubber boot grown into the foot of that tree?”
“Looks like. I never saw that there.”
“You musta walked right past it there putting in that ribbon for the fill line.”
“I guess I did – concentration I suppose.”
“So, what do you need me for at this point? You know how to dig.”
“Well, Robby. I know how to dig, but I don’t know septic. I don’t know the inspectors, and I definitely don’t know what I don’t know. I need a professional, and that’s you.”
“Well, I can see you’re ready. When’ll you have the land bridge in?”
“It’ll be up and level in a few hours.”
“Well, Michael, I can get up here tomorrow with the materials and the machine. Does that work for you?”
“Marshall said I was gonna like you.”
“Said the same to me.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“I’ll pick up the tank and field line today, is eight in the morning too early?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Well, I’ll see you then.”
“Love, you here?”
“Hey, I’m in the basement.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“I’m getting these old totes to start packing my she-shed tomorrow.”
“So, decided.”
“Cute, even if the offer falls through, I haven’t been out there for a day’s work since Spring, and I might as well start somewhere – besides, I left my Bible in the pew at church, and I want to go to that Dupont Baptist this Sunday, and my other Bible is in the she-shed.”
“There’s a lot of work between now and then. The boys made huge progress with the workshop dig, my shedgri la has outlets and heat and air. I ordered more solar because I need more battery if I’m going to use the heater, and the septic guy starts tomorrow.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s the turnip green’s own ham hock.”
“Country, as read by the Yankee.”
“Nope, this guy’s so country he’s got a special passport.”
“Starting tomorrow?”
“Says he’s getting the tank and the field lines today and he’ll be up there by eight.”
“How long does it take?”
“Should be quick. It’ll probably dig before snack time, and if they get an inspector in there, we’ll have a system by early afternoon.”
“No way.”
“Yup, I got the toilet on the way home today. I bought a paver slab to sit it on.”
“Wait. You’re putting a toilet outside?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Well, yeah, he says. Michael it’s the middle of winter.”
“I have three weeks to get that place ready to move in.”
“You’re not moving to a shed, Michael.”
“I have to. It’s shared ownership. The whole county has near kin that went in an outhouse. I’ll never fit in if I don’t.”
“The whole county doesn’t have that bag of air time bomb on their lung.”
“We agreed to table that until after the build.”
“No, you agreed.”
“Same difference.”
“Different difference. Different people, different time. Different place.”
“Maybe, but the septic comes tomorrow, and I will have the toilet installed by Saturday.”
“You’re not living in a shed, Michael.”