Chapter 6
'Alright then,' Gus
boomed out in the early morning chill. 'John Wilkis, Red Leader.' The
man stepped forward and got a red cap and a radio. 'Red Team is in
charge of planting. With Red Team goes Sam Watkins, Liz DeHein and
Steve Smith. There'll be more later John, put 'em where you need 'em.
Red Team out. Shawn Stein, Blue Leader...'
Barkus watched as the
30-odd adults split off into 5 teams and set to work. He had to admit
it, Gus had a knack for leading people. He studiously avoided eye
contact with Big Bubba who returned the favour, but almost all of the
Boys were here despite, or perhaps because of his outburst.
Assignments given, Gus walked to where Barkus was standing aside from
the crowd. He was fine with the execution being Gus's parade, he
preferred it that way in fact. Now a clipboard festooned with
coloured tape and markers and maps and lists was carried in one hand
and, Barkus noticed, there was an extra bit of spring in the man's
step and an extra glint in his eye.
'Where's Sheryl?' Gus
asked, a radio dangling from around his neck. 'I want her around in
case people start getting creative without understanding the whys and
hows.'
'I think she's in the Café with Lynn,' Barkus told him. 'She seems quite nervous, today is
a big day for her.'
'Yes, but she needs to be
out here.' Gus looked at his watch. 'I'll go get her, want a coffee
on the way back?'
It was in fact 15 minutes
and 7 new volunteers later that Gus returned with Sheryl. She still
looked nervous but had a determined edge that reminded Barkus of when
he first met her.
'Oh, that's not right,'
she cried. Gus caught her arm before she shot off.
'What's not right?' he
asked calmly. Sheryl motioned to where a group had left their
supplies for constructing a cluster of raised beds.
'If they leave those
there then everyone has to take a detour because the direct lines,
which will eventually be the main paths, are blocked. But if they
move it to the other side, then they can still reach everything
easily and they're not blocking the way.' Gus digested this, then
nodded.
'Alright, let's go tell
them.' He smiled at her. 'But I'll do the talking, alright?'
'Fine by me.'
Barkus looked around as
someone called his name. A dark-haired man was standing beside a
large box truck with a clipboard. As Barkus hurried over, he
registered the logo of the local tree nursery on the side of the
truck.
“John Barkus?” the
man said, holding out a hand. “Richard Smith, got an order of
broad-leaves here for you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you
today,” Barkus admitted, taking the proffered clipboard and
scanning his eye down it.
“I wasn't really
expecting to come out today either, but we got the phone call
yesterday evening and, lo and behold, there was a gap in our shipping
schedule so we packed 'em in this morning.” Smith was saying as
Barkus inspected each tree. He nodded, signed the paperwork and
helped Smith lift each one down carefully then waved the man off,
before thinking to ask who called them.
After that, it was a case
of tapdancing on avalanches. Refreshments arrived and were
distributed to the teams. New volunteers kept on coming, soon people
were standing around because while there was plenty to be done, there
were also enough hands to do it.
Barkus saw Annie walk
towards him, eyes scanning the crowd that was at once busy and bored.
'Annie!' he called. She
waved and headed towards him.
'Looks like you got more
than 20 then?'
'Yes, but there's not
enough for them to do right now.' Annie raised an eyebrow.
'I thought you wanted 30
people?'
'We have 48 plus the
teens and, yes, there's another 5 walking over. I guess the word got
around.'
Annie nodded and sipped at
her coffee with a smile. Her eyes roamed the Square, picking out who
was working and who was looking for work and who was standing around,
arms folded.
'Alright,' she said at
last. 'Lets see what can be done with all these idle hands.'
After about half an hour,
Barkus noticed a change in the pattern. Now instead of gathering in
the Square and staring at the work being done, groups of jobless
volunteers were gathering at the edges and staring at the building
facades. A few shops were already hives of activity, with people
washing windows, scrubbing walls and cornices and even removing signs
for fresh paint jobs. Some industrious teens and kids appeared to be
negotiating a charge for scrubbing the sidewalks. As more people
worked on the shop fronts, some were going from shop to shop with
lists of paper. They jumped into a truck and eventually returned,
overflowing with paints and other supplies. A woman Barkus knew to be
a local florist walked from shop to shop with a list of her own and
an increasingly-widening grin. Annie appeared next to Barkus with a
smug kind of smile.
'Thanks for that,' Barkus
said. 'Now we have room to work.' Indeed, without people standing
around, it seemed like the teams were were making much better time.
He watched as Sheryl and Gus wandered throughout the Square, checking
on the progress of each team.
'It looks like we'll be
within deadline.' Barkus commented before he saw a battered green
truck reverse into a reserved spot at the top of the Square. 'Who's
that?'
'Mrs. Cleary,' came the
reply.
'It's not lunch time
already.' Belatedly, his stomach told him how long it was since
breakfast.
'Oh yes it is,' Annie
laughed. 'Come on.'
Shouts increased as Team
Leaders yelled their teams back into line as Mrs. Cleary, assisted by
women that seemed to appear out of nowhere, swiftly set up tables and
a production line-style buffett.
'When the Team Leaders
hear the bell, they bring their teams and they're fed first,' Barkus
heard Mrs. Cleary tell a hopeful attendant. 'And they're fed first
Mr. Adams because they showed up first. You think I haven't been
keeping an eye on the goings-on? Wait your turn, Ms. Watkins, you
only rolled out of bed an hour ago and don't you try to lie to me
girl, you were never any good at it.' She glanced up as Barkus and
Annie arrived, still arranging bowls and and plates to maximum
effeciency. 'Mr. Barkus and Mrs. DeHein. Ah, Ms. Monroe and Mr.
Mantic.' Barkus turned to see Gus and Sheryl hurry up behind them. 'I
daresay we're ready for you to ring the bell for the teams Mr.
Mantic, ' Mrs. Cleary added after glancing down the table. She
motioned to a brass bell and, grinning, Gus obliged. Faster than
Barkus thought possible, every team member was in an orderly line,
with the new arrivals tagging onto the end of the line morosely.
'So how come you're at
the top of the line Annie? Barkus joked. 'You only got here 2 hours
ago.'
'I was peeling potatoes
at 6am, that's why,' came the smart reply.
'She's a handy lady
around a pot of potatoes, is Mrs. DeHein,' Mrs. Cleary said, handing
them a plate each. 'No more than one spoon from each bowl please,
there's plenty of food but there's plenty of mouths too. Napkins,
knives and forks are at the end.'
Barkus looked along the
the groaning table and his jaw dropped. The line of women behind the
tables grinned at his shock.
'Told you Mrs. Cleary
runs a mean buffett table,' Annie laughed and poked him in the back.
'Come on, don't hold up the line, I want some of that Chicken Tikka.'
In the end, Barkus took
half a spoon from each bowl he fancied until his plate was
overflowing, then walked along three quarters of the line until he
reached the napkins and cutlery.
'How long did all of this
take?' he asked the woman standing there.
'I have no idea,' she
laughed. 'Maybe 5 hours for each of us at the outside? Mrs. Cleary is
a good organiser and she makes it fun.' The woman beamed. 'I've got
some great new recipes for dinner now too.'
Barkus pondered this as he
walked to the HQ table.
What makes the
difference? he
wondered.
Is it the town? The leaders? The fact that everyone here is
doing meaningful work? Or is it a mix of all three?
'How
is the progress going?' he asked as Gus sat down.
'We're ahead of schedule,' he said. 'All these extra hands mean the
planting is half-done, including the trees. The trashcans and benches
are all in place. Gazebo's painted, pathstones are due to start going
in this afternoon and the drains are so clean you could eat your
dinner out of them.' He looked down at his plate. 'Not this dinner
though, it's way too good for that.' He picked up a forkful of potato
salad and put it in his mouth.
'So
what's for after lunch?' Gus held up a hand, closed his eyes, and
chewed. Barkus grinned and ate some spiced chicken. Gus eventually
swallowed with a contented sigh.
'You
don't talk through a mouthful of Mrs. Cleary's potato salad,' he
said, by way of explaination. 'We're finishing planting and mulching,
and starting the pathways, signposts and lighting.'
'They'll take till the end of tomorrow to finish up properly,' Sheryl
said, dropping a plate beside Gus. She said it like it was a problem
instead of more than a day ahead of the advanced finish time. Barkus
stared at both of them.
'You
know,' he said slowly. 'I don't want this to sound bad or anything,
but the only time I've ever heard of a finish time like that, is when
something vitally significant has been left out.'
'Yes,
but you dont usually get over
half again your maximum
workforce, do you?' Gus said without rancour. 'Not
everyone here is a trained craftsman but don't
forget that most people have been maintaining and renewing their own
properties and gardens for years.'
He passed the
clipboard over to Barkus who ran an experienced eye down the detailed
check-list, every box for 2 pages now had a definite tick.
'Wow,' he said in reply.
'And
I see you got the surplus working too Annie,' Gus commented,
accepting the clipboard again.
'Well, I just reminded them how fresh and new the Square was going to
look and then started staring meaningfully at the shop fronts. They
got it eventually.'
By
now, there was only a small line at the buffett table and people were
spread out everywhere, enjoying their meals.
'Things are looking good here Barkus,' came a voice. Barkus turned to
see the Sherrif and Deputy George walking towards them.
'Thanks to Gus and Sheryl, and Mrs. Cleary of course,' Barkus told
him.
'Indeed.' Again, Barkus got the feeling that the Sherrif was trying
to read his mind.
'I
think the bell for seconds is going to ring in a minute Sherrif,' Gus
told him, scraping up the last of his meal. 'If you want to get
anything to eat, you had better get ahead of the stampede.'
Both
officers turned and looked towards the buffett table speculatively.
'I don't think Mrs. Cleary will object to you guys taking a plateful,
especially after you recovered all her patio furniture last month.'
'She
made her potato salad?' the Sherrif asked.
'She
assured me that she kept a full bowl back for the second round,' Gus
told him and sure enough, Mrs. Cleary was pulling a large bowl out of
a cooler from underneath the table. There was a rush of air and
suddenly the uniforms were lining up and currying up to Mrs. Cleary
and her ladies. Their efforts were rewarded by Mrs. Cleary herself
putting a heaping spoon of her potato salad on their plates,
eliciting jealous looks from every circumspect watcher. Barkus
debated going up again, but the realisation that his belt was now two
holes too tight decided the matter. He sat back and watched instead
as Mrs. Cleary made a final joke with Deputy George and rang the bell
for seconds. What resulted was the quietest, most discreet and yet
most vicious scrum he had ever seen as everyone stampeded in then
elbowed and shouldered, toe-trod and tripped, to be the first in line
and therefore claim a spoonful of the legendary potato salad. He
laughed out loud as Mrs. Cleary's gaze scythed over and everyone
froze and put on angelic expressions.
'Look, look,' Annie said quietly with a devillish tone. 'Peter Smith
is going to fall over.'
'Is
he the one trying to trip three people at once?''
'Yep,
but I think it's more to do with the fact that John Smith is grinding
on his toe with his heel. Oh no, Clarice DeHein has ducked under four
sets of elbows and is sneaking up the left flank. There are benefits
to being short, you see?'
'Yes,
but she's going to, yes she's blocked by the check shirt. Wait, how
did she manage that?'
'Joe
fractured that rib last year.'
'That's a bit mean.'
'All's fair in pursuing love, war and Mrs. Cleary's potato salad,'
Annie replied. 'Oh but she's being cut off by her neice who obviously
learned a lot from her favourite auntie.'
'Is
that the red-head in plaits?'
Soon,
the whistle blew and lunch was over. People started gathering up
their trash and joking about christening the trashcans. Barkus
stretched and started to walk around the Square. He passed Jeff T.
Cleary with a wave and a smile, shared a wink with Slim who was
talking to Big Bubba and stopped dead as a certain smell grabbed him
by the throat.
His
eyes fell on a group of potted roses that were standing by the
gazebo, waiting to be planted. There were three people preparing to
start digging the holes for them, but he only had eyes for the
flowers.
'It
can't be,' he breathed.
'Beautiful, arent they?' a woman ambled up, wiping her hands on a
cloth hanging from her belt. 'I'm Gerri Smith, we've never been
formally introduced. I run the nursery, just brought these over
during lunch.' Barkus shook her hand, but only had eyes for the
roses. She followed his gaze. 'They really are something else, arent
they? Got the mother about 3 years ago from a friend. Best rose I had
the pleasure to grow.'
'Who
did you get it from?' Barkus asked in a strange voice. She looked at
him with her head on one side.
'Josephine Miller.'
'Big
blue house? On the corner of Connaught and Short street?' She blinked
in surprise.
'That's right.' She looked from him to the roses, and back to him.
'So you are him then. The kid who saved his rose from the burn pile.'
'From
the compost actually,' Barkus corrected absently. He hunkered down
and fingered the glossy leaves, breathed in the perfume. He read the
hand-written label “The Barkus Rose, Climber, Red, Hardy,” and
smiled. 'Mama always said that “More thorns than the road to Hell”
should appear on the warning label,' he said, straightening up. Gerri
smiled.
'After a while you learn to treat 'em with respect,' she replied
airily. She paused. 'You know, some folks would pass comment on my
charging you when you know that I only got the original because of
you. And of course, you also now know that I got it for free.'
Barkus
shook his head, partly to answer her, partly to clear his head of the
memories that came crowding in with the smell.
'You
might,' he had to pause to clear his throat. 'You might have gotten a
cutting for free, but you had to turn that into a healthy mother to
get offspring looking like that.' He nodded to the 5 potted roses
between them. 'You're entitled to a certain price.' Then he grinned
disarmingly. 'But I will be checking the dockets, so don't get
cheeky.'
Gerri
laughed and held up a hand. 'Scout's honour, only a fair price.' Her
face turned solemn. 'Jo told me what happened, to your family. I'm
really...'
Barkus
abruptly turned away.
'Well, nice to meet you at last Gerri, keep up the good work.' He
walked away as nonchalantly as he could manage. Gerri smiled sadly
and called out;
'You
too!' before bending back to her work, the smell of roses filling the
air.
The
rest of the day passed in a whirl for Barkus. Teams hustled to and
fro, wheelbarrows whizzed by as a sense of competition filled the
air. By the time dusk fell and the final whistle rang, everyone was
tired but exuberant. Parents carried or walked their worn-out
children to bed, while teens stood around with the adults, eyes
shining as they took in all that they had achieved. People pointed,
told stories, recounted tales of almost disaster, laughter filling
the air. As the stars came out and the street lights came on, the
group dispersed, calling out goodbyes and reminders about the morning
till only Sheryl, Gus and Barkus remained.
'I
can't believe it,' Sheryl kept repeating. 'Even though I'm looking at
it, I still can't believe it.'
'Well
you just wait till the rota for the leaf-racking comes up,' Gus
chuckled.
'Oh,
I'm holding workshops for that.' At their quizzical looks, she went
on; 'Did you know that you can grow potatoes in semi-rotted leaves?
And build raised bed gardens?' She beamed.
'My
goodness,' Barkus joked. 'What have we unleashed here Gus?'
'I
dont think anyone suspected,' Gus agreed solemly. He grinned
suddenly. 'Except me of course.'
Sheryl
laughed happily, 'And I'm very glad you did. But now,' her words were
cut off by an involuntary yawn. 'I'm ready for my bed. Good night
gents, see you in the morning.'
'Good
night.'
'Sleep tight.' With a wave, she was walking away, clearly floating on
air despite her tiredness.
'Heard the Opening Party Committee are calling around tomorrow
afternoon,' Gus said after a few moments of comfortable silence.
'Mmm?
Oh, yes. About 2 o' clock I think.' Barkus yawned and nearly
swallowed a bug. 'Ugh,' he washed his mouth out with the last bit of
water in his bottle. 'I think they want to hold the party next
Saturday.' Gus nodded and finished up his water bottle.
'They
want to catch the enthusiasm I guess.' They stood in silence and
watched the Square.
'The
birds aren't going to know what to do,' Barkus remarked quietly.
'There's going to be a lot more singing going on, that's for sure,'
Gus agreed. He turned to Barkus. 'Fancy a beer?'