Chapter 1 - Randy
~May~
“Russy!” I called, then whistled.
I waited a few seconds, then smiled as my dog bounded out from some underbrush, doggy grin on his face as he ran toward me.
I leaned down and scratched the shaggy brown fur behind his ears as he stopped beside me. “Good boy. Want to go to the mill?”
He barked once and bolted to my old two-toned brown and cream truck, tail wagging as he waited for me to catch up.
I laughed as I opened the door, the hinges squeaking slightly. Russy jumped up and had himself settled on the passenger side of the bench seat before I’d finished climbing up after him.
“Belt,” I commanded, and he sat still so I could clip his harness to the belt adapter. “Good boy.”
It took three tries for the starter on my truck to get the job done, but eventually the motor roared to life.
Russy’s tail thumped against the seat as I guided the old beater down my narrow driveway; his head swiveled when wereached the road, and I had to check for traffic. Then we were on the paved road.
Sable Lake spread out on my right, forest and cabins on the left. Across the lake, Heartspring Resort had its inflatable playground on the water for the summer.
I made a mental note to stop by on the way back home and ask if they needed any new pieces or wanted me to rotate out some older stock.
Traffic was busy on the highway that connected the city of Mount Sable to the lake and Mountain Springs beyond that—if one was taking the scenic route rather than the interstate. Finally, I spotted a break and eased into the line of cars headed toward Mount Sable.
The weather was nice, so I grabbed the handle to crank down the window. Soon, the wind whipped through my full brown beard, and the whoosh sound followed every car going in the opposite direction. I turned up the radio and went through my mental to-do list.
First, I needed to stop by the mill and see which wood cuts interested me. After that, I’d swing by the feed store to get some essentials for my chickens. I had a grocery pickup scheduled for early that afternoon, which left plenty of time after to visit the resort before the daytime staff headed home.
I sang along to the familiar songs on the oldies station, and soon pulled off on the small road outside Mount Sable that led to the mill.
Russy barked as we passed the feed store on the left.
“Yeah, yeah,” I laughed. “We’re going there too. After the mill.”
He huffed, but his tail thumping on the seat told me he was still happy.
I pulled off into the mill’s gravel driveway and parked near the loading area.
Russy had just jumped down, and I was closing the door when one of the salesmen, Oscar, strode over.
“Randy!” he called, then gave me a side-hug. “How the hell ya been? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
I snorted. “That’s your fault for not getting out of the office more. I’ve been here.”
He knelt and scratched behind Russy’s ears. “How ya doin’, Spud?”
Russy let out a happy bark, which made Oscar laugh. He stood again and turned to me. “Looking for anything in particular?”
I shrugged. “Figured I’d browse the scraps first—see if there’s anything I like for pens or kitchen pieces. Then I’ll check out whatever burls you’ve got.”
He clapped my shoulder. “Sounds good, man. You know where I’ll be if you need anything.”
“Yep.”
He held the customer door for Russy and me, then strode in behind us and veered toward a customer browsing the slab cuts.
I grabbed a flatbed cart and turned to where the scraps were tossed in a bin and sold by the bucket, Russy at my heel. Soon, I was digging through small and irregular pieces—looking for neat grain patterns or tail ends of specialty woods ordered for other customers.
