The Drip, a novel by Michael Gullo
“Nobody ever drove all the way up before. I’m Michael.”
“Hey, Mike. Boy, I’d love to have this place. How much did you pay for it?”
“No tears yet, but the blood-sweat mix is fifty-fifty.”
“Where’d you get that dirt crew, ’bout snapped an axle comin’ up that road, and they better put a drain tile cross that switchback or it won’t be a road no more come June.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Abby.”
“Nice to meet you, Abby. Road’s a little rough?”
“Rough? Buddy they’s wasting gravel, got springs runnin clean across the road down in that easement; it’s a washboard coming past all those trailers, that hill coming up left of the dam ain’t passable without a dune buggy, and this switchback won’t last two months you don’t get a drain tile in there.”
“Yeah, it’s a labor of love.”
“Better be love cuz the money’s a waste.”
“We manage it.”
“All them cars park down the road says different.”
“Helps keep the workspace clear.”
“I see that, maybe have em take out some of these trees, get a little parking area.”
“Tanner, come here. This guy’s Abby.”
“Abbington. Nice to meet you, Tanner. Them your boys in the machines?”
“Partners.”
“This your first time dig Sevier County?”
“Abby, check your pockets.”
“My pockets?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking you left the house today, you forgot your manners on the bedside table.”
“Excuse me?”
“Now we’re talking. You’re excused.”
“Look, Mike. I don’t know what you’re playin’ at, but if this is the jobsite you called me for, I can’t build you a house on this.”
“Seems plain enough. But Stefanie told me to be nice, and you made some points need heard. Wanna start over?”
“I mean, if you let me get a dirt crew in here, get these trees pushed way back… You ain’t putting the house there, are you?”
“No, that’s for the workshop. Here’s a copy of the house plan. It goes over there where the boys are digging in the benches.”
“I can’t have that.”
“What?”
“My men dig the house seat. And that ain’t the place fer it.”
“Why’s that?”
“All hillside. Take weeks dig that out, and where the spoils go?”
“Get a rock, Tanner. Gotta hold this plan down.”
“Bed’s bigger, here.”
“Thanks, Abby. Elevations – foundation – here it is, the floor plan.”
“Two bedrooms?”
“Yep.”
“I just imagined bigger.”
“I sent the email to Kerry, that’s her name, right, Kerry.”
“The receptionist, yes.”
“Didn’t she send them to you?”
“I’m in the field most days.”
“Truck’s pretty clean for a field truck.”
“I have three sub developments going now.”
“Like Ball home stuff?”
“Private developer.”
“Can’t build his own houses?”
“He’s in Florida.”
“Do you do private builds?”
“Wouldn’t be here if not.”
“Fair.”
“Have you got a survey?”
“This is my set. I had the survey printed into the bind.”
“In back?”
“Yup.”
“If you put the house seat there, you’re close to that drainway.”
“Closest corner’s twenty feet.”
“Needs twenty-five.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Anything else?”
“That hillside’s gonna be springs.”
“Not yet.”
“They’re only on the – is he ferryin’ that dirt in a skid steer?”
“Yeah. We’re using the spoils on the dam.”
“Just throwing them over the side?”
“Sort of. Right now we’re prepping the spillway pipe seat.”
“At least you drained that.”
“Sorry.”
“This a low budget site?”
“It’s tight.”
“That explains two bedrooms. You know that’ll never sell, right?”
“Not building it to sell.”
“I have a dirt crew right now can fix this up.”
“Is it that broke?”
“It ain’t right.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You’re digging the house seat, and you don’t even have a permit yet, for one thing.”
“Permit’s the GC problem.”
“It would take weeks to build a plan, negotiate a contract and then get on the schedule for the work.”
“Weeks? And how long’s the build?”
“If we start next Spring, we’ll have you in by Christmas.”
“Like April, so you’re done by this Christmas?”
“No. We’re booked this year. Start next Spring.”
“What’s your idea on price?”
“We’re running about twelve-hundred a foot right now – with a straight foundation. This…”
“Wait, you’re talking two point four million?”
“This year. Material prices don’t trend downward.”
“You know it’s a two-bedroom house, right?”
“Still square footage.”
“Twelve hundred is insurance loss pricing. I don’t get in a man’s pocket much, but I gotta ask, what’s the split?”
“Our contract runs cost plus fifteen.”
“So you see cost at near two point one million?”
“Roughly.”
“That makes hard cost a thousand-fifty a foot. I mean, I love gold paint as much as the next guy, but tool belts and tuxedos don’t mix.”
“Tuxedo?”
“Price is high.”
“That’s the price.”
“You didn’t even open the email.”
“Don’t have to. We charge twelve-hundred a foot turn-key.”
“I went into the wrong business.”
“What business you in, Mike?”
“Commercial Development. It was nice meeting you, Ab.”
“It’s Abby.”
“You need to knock a syllable off that price, buddy. I live in that shed over there, and I have a lot of time on my hands. I already did the take-off coming and going, and I got three hundred a foot all day.”
“Look, if you don’t have the money to build it, we offer financing.”
“In-house, I bet.”
“Yep.”
“Downpayment about three-hundred a foot?”
“Exactly.”
“Never would have guessed.”
“No shame in it.”
“I – what shame?”
“Save up a couple more bucks.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe my Grandma will give me a few more if I tell her how expensive it is.”
“We have financing.”
“Did you finance yours through the company?”
“We’re still rentin’.”
“Oh you just work for the contractor?”
“I’m a Project Manager.”
“Now I get it.”
“So, let me get this straight for the notes. Cost plus fifteen, start in fourteen months – two and a half million if I change my whole plan, cut down all these pesky trees, and you’d suggest financing. What’s the rate?”
“About eight percent.”
“About eight percent. How’s that amortize?”
“Amor…”
“Thirty year?”
“Fifteen.”
“Last but not least, how long to build it?”
“Eighteen months is the safe number, but we might finish in twelve.”
“And you have a dirt crew right now?”
“Yep. They can be here in about five weeks if we can get a quick dirt contract set up.”
“Awesome.”
“Good?”
“Oh, we’re good. Thanks for coming out, Abbington.”
“Um, so.”
“Hang on, that’s Stefanie.”
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey. How’s it going up there?”
“Man, I miss you, but I’m just signing off with the Contractor, and I’ll wrap up with the guys. How about I come pick you and Clover up, and we go for a ride?”
“Antipasto?”
“Sounds perfect. See you in thirty.”
“Love.”
“Love.”
“Whaddya say, wanna set an appointment, come into the office and talk over the details?”
“Definitely not, buddy. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”