Moons of Jupiter

by V R Tapscott

  The contractor, Morgan Watson, met us there and took us into the site. We went inside the house and he started pointing out numerous cracks in the sheetrock in the walls. All the walls. After showing us through the rooms, he explained.

  “It looks like when the water leaked into the house, it washed out the supports around the concrete. It had never been all that well supported to begin with, and it looks like people had attempted to shore up the foundation years ago. That worked fine, but they used some poor building materials. That, and age, had made a mess of the repair work. When the water went through it washed out under this repair, which just kind of dissolved away.”

  I nodded. “So, that made all the cracks in the walls upstairs?”

  “Uh huh. The house is basically settling on one end, which is twisting the foundation and the walls are doing the same. Only there’s no flex in the wallboard and it’s cracking. Breaking apart.”

  Georgia sighed. “So, how much to repair it, Mister Watson?”

  The contractor looked apologetic. “Well, it’s probably not, in reality, repairable.”

  She looked shocked, then angry. “What, you can’t repair it?”

  “Well, yes, we can. But in the end, you’ll wind up with more money in it than you would to … well ... tear it down and start over.”

  Georgia kind of deflated. “I … I really liked this house.”

  He nodded. I think the guy genuinely felt bad about it.

  “Can you write me up a statement of what you’ve found, and I’ll take it to the insurance company?”

  “Already done, Ms. Daltry.” He handed her a sheaf of papers.

  “Thanks. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Well, you should get everything out of the house as soon as you can. Right now, it’s fairly stable, but as time passes it will get less and less so. After another couple weeks you probably won’t want to go inside.”

  Georgia looked more woebegone all the time. “Well, we’ll be all right here. Thanks for all you’ve done. We’ll let you know what the insurance says.”

  The poor guy didn’t do well with disappointed people, I could tell. He nodded. “Ok, well, good luck.”

  I hugged Georgia to me, and we stood like that for a while. The contractor’s pickup drove off and finally Georgia stepped away and looked at me.

  “Well, I guess that means you have a house guest for a while longer.”

  I smiled, “Georgia, that’s welcome news. You know it is. “

  She shook her head, “Yeah, I know. I guess. It’s just weird that you don’t mind half the world living with you, Jane.”

  I shrugged. “I like my people. There will come a time when you all leave for your respective places, and I’ll be lonely. So, I’m not looking forward to that happening. I like my alone time, but trust me, I can get alone time easily. It’s friend time that’s hard to come by.”

  She laid her head on my shoulder. “Thanks for being such a good friend, Jane. I mean, you were nearly dead when I first got here and you still welcomed me with open arms, even when you couldn’t open your arms without help!”

  I hugged her again. “What are friends for?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Speaking of holes.

  About the time Georgia and I finished at her house, I got a call on my phone. Turned out that finally my contractor had managed to get a crane scheduled up to my house and was ready to do some demolition. I’d insisted on having a crane there to lift things since I felt sure that Threepio would be intact underneath the rubble. None of my contractors had agreed, having looked at things carefully, but I was pretty sure. I didn’t want Threepio damaged or didn’t want Threepio’s indestructibleness pointed out by having a bulldozer in and having it shove his undamaged remains out the other side of what was left of the barn. I’d much rather it be easier to explain why, such as the aforementioned “the roof must have fallen just right and that’s why the van survived.”

  So, the crane. It was there to lift things carefully off Threepio, and it was finally on its way to my house. My contractor knew that I’d be looking forward to being there. She was very understanding about things like that.

  “Georgia! Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “My crane has come in!”

  “Is that some kind of play on ‘my ship has come in’?”

  I laughed. “No, my ship came in ages ago. This is my crane, it’s finally here to lift the barn off my precious Threepio and let me get back to driving him again.”

  Georgia rolled her eyes at me. “I have never known what you see in that old hulk, but I guess the important part is that you see it. I have to admit being able to haul all of us around was a distinct advantage, but I’d have thought getting a new one would be high on your list. Threepio barely had a CD player!”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Threepio has a very nice CD player, and also a satellite and MP3 player, I’ll have you know. He’s very up-to-date.”

  “Psh. Mini-vans are so out, SUVs are in now.”

  “I don’t care about in or out - I care about my Threepio. We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “Is this going to be a Star Wars quote?”

  “No, but that’s a good point. Although that was Artoo, not Threepio.”

  Georgia smiled affectionately at me. “Always a nerd, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “It’s in my blood, apparently. I’m not a Bond nerd though.”

  “I’ve been told that. Several times.”

  I’d been driving a rental car while the decisions were being made about the replacements. I should probably have bought another Jeep, but I was hesitant. For one thing, if it turned out I was wrong about Threepio, or if he needed extensive work, I’d have to get a replacement Threepio. If not, then I’d need a replacement Jeep. I know, that really means I should be able to get a replacement Jeep now and worry about the rest later. So sue me. I’ll worry when I want to.

  Georgia and I tootled up the windy drive to my house. I’m not sure I should use ‘tootled’ with Armand, which is the name I’ve christened the Acadia with. I’ll probably wind up buying one of him instead of a Jeep. Armand seems a little stuffy compared to Threepio, and his name follows that. Not that I know any Armands who are stuffy, but it seems they should be. Sorry in advance to any Armands I might meet. Anyhow, ‘tootled’ worked with Threepio. But it should be something more serious and manly with Armand. When I come up with something, I’ll let you know.

  We parked near the barn. I haven’t been up here much. The debris around the outside has been cleared, poor Jerry’s body has been toted off and the place looks a bit less barren now. Still, that big hulking pile of burnt boards is lurking there, waiting for a crane.

  We’d been there about ten minutes when my contractor’s pickup arrived, and her in it. She hopped out and strode over to see us, hugging me as if she was amazingly happy to see us. Which maybe she was. I suspect she was happy to see a customer who paid on time and wanted expensive things, like cranes.

  “Jane, good to see you! It will be nice to move forward on this project finally! He should be here any ... “ Her voice trailed off as we heard the sound of a big diesel engine down the way. “That must be him now. It’s a good sized crane, since you were so insistent on picking the top of the barn off carefully. It’s certainly an odd way the barn fell. I never have seen anything like that before, it almost looks like something huge fell on top of it rather than it just collapsing from the burning.“ She shook her head, thinking. “Of course, it’s impossible for something that large to have fallen from the sky.“ She looked at me questioningly, “Just like it’s impossible for the fire to have been started by lightning.”

  I shrugged again. “That was the only explanation we could come up with that fit all the facts. It seemed to satisfy the fire chief and the inspector.”

  Jann, my contractor, said, “Well, I don’t know about that. I do know that it’s good to believe in some impossible things.” She looked
at me again, like she was in hopes I’d let her in on what really happened. While it was tempting, I wasn’t ready to out Olive to anyone, let alone a contractor I’d probably never see again after the building was done.

  “Jann, if I had any answers you’d accept, I’d probably tell you, but as it is, I’m going with the freak lightning storm and the roof collapse. Trust me, it’s easier that way.”

  Which I suppose played into her thoughts of there being something slightly dodgy about my explanation. I was fine with that, though. I didn’t mind her speculating, just didn’t want her to feel she could talk about it from having heard me say it.

  Anyhow, the crane arrived. A cranky low-boy driver had to back and fill several times to get the machine up the steep winding driveway, and he wasn’t in the best of moods by the time he arrived at the top. I’m sure he was thinking uncharitable things. I’d have to tip him well. Can you tip a truck driver? I suppose you can tip anyone who does a good job.

  He parked his truck and another pickup arrived shortly. The driver was Bob, who was an equipment operator from way back, and I’d paid a lot extra to have him doing my crane operating. I guess I should be clear, it’s not so much a crane as a huge track mounted backhoe. With a good operator, I figured he’d be able to just carefully lift the roof off Threepio and let us get him out with a winch or a cable attached to one of these huge pickups that contractors all drive. Bob was driving a huge Chevy Silverado diesel that would probably make Dale have to go out and buy something bigger. Pickup envy …

  Bob climbed down from the truck. He was a heavyset man of about 65, with long slim fingers and a pianist look about him. He walked over, said, “You must be Jane. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  I shook the hand he put out with both of mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bob! I’ve heard great things about you!”

  He laughed. “Well, I hope they didn’t pump you up too much. But I do take pride in things being done right.”

  He looked the rig over. “I don’t get a chance to use one this big, very often. You had some pretty specific ideas, mind showing me what you want?”

  I nodded, happy that he was willing to listen. We walked over to the barn and I pointed at the way the roof was sitting.

  “Bob, I have a feeling my van is sitting right about under there. We’ve not been able to see it and there’s a lot of debris there, but from the way the roof is sitting I’m in hopes it will be somewhat intact when we pull the roof off.”

  He looked me over. “Attached to the van, eh?”

  I nodded. “Very. His name is Threepio.”

  He smiled. “From the movie?”

  I smiled back. “Yes. And he and I are great friends.”

  “Well, I’ll try just as hard as I can to make sure you get to see him again, if he’s not been…” He trailed off, obviously not wanting to tell me how silly it was that I thought the van might be something other than a smashed walnut.

  I shrugged. “I’ll get to see him either way.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you will. Let’s do it, huh?”

  I looked in his eyes and said, “Thank you.”

  He smiled and patted my shoulder and said, “I’ll do my very best.”

  With that, he walked away to his rig. He walked around releasing and unwinding cables and chains. The truck driver had gotten a start on it, but Bob seemed to be a take charge kind of guy and had no problem with doing his own work.

  Once the huge machine was free of the cables, Bob climbed up in the cab and cranked the engine over. It started instantly, a big cloud of black smoke quickly turning nearly perfectly clear, just a hint of heat. Bob nodded and gave me the thumbs up.

  I’d wondered how he was going to unload it, but apparently this was something he did all the time. He turned the cab around so it was facing the back of the trailer and moved the backhoe along until it was on the edge of the rear deck. Then he simply reached out with the arm and carefully put it down on the ground, then pulled the ‘hoe along the trailer, leaving it suspended over open air. Once he got to a point where he was satisfied, he carefully lowered the arm to allow the tracks to gently touch the ground, then he turned the cab again and did the same, lifting the ‘hoe off the trailer and pushing it along until it was clear, then letting it down to the ground. These guys are amazing, they operate these huge arms like they were an extension of their own arm. I love watching one of them at work and was looking forward to that almost as much as seeing Threepio again.

  Bob moved over to the barn and put the huge shovel carefully under where I’d pointed out to him and very gently began lifting. When he’d gotten it a few inches off the ground, he moved the bucket ahead a little and angled it to support the item he was holding, and began carefully tilting the bucket, adjusting the angle as he moved. Sure enough, as he lifted it, I was able to start seeing Threepio revealed right about where I’d thought. It was a little scary at first, since the tires were flat and completely burnt to a crisp. But as the bucket lifted higher and higher, he began to look almost perfectly intact! I was so happy, I danced around a little.

  While we’d been watching Bob do his magic, another truck had arrived chock full of contractor minions. They had a load of wood supports that they started deploying under parts of the lifted roof. Once they were in place, Bob let the roof carefully down on them and moved the ‘hoe around to the end of the building, where he started deftly poking at the remains of the wall there. After some judicious nudging on the part of his machine, the wall started falling apart and he raked it out into the open, leaving the end of the barn free of obstacles. Then, he ran the bucket in under the roof to allow a person to safely crawl under the remains of the roof, sheltered by the big bucket. The guy crawled up to the front of Threepio and attached a tow chain under Threepio’s front end. He also carefully opened the door and got in Threepio, flipped the ignition to on and unlocked the steering wheel, putting the transmission into neutral. He then backed back out under the cover of the bucket and stood up outside. He’d closed the door of the van again, but I’d seen inside and I was thrilled that it looked like the seats and carpet had also made it through with flying colors. I’d been a little worried when I had seen the condition of the tires, but apparently the entire van except the tires had been “Kiticized” and were life proofed. I’d known how careful Kit’s attention to detail was and I’d been hoping it extended this far. It was self-evident that it had!

  The tow chain was attached to the tow hook of one of the big contractor trucks, and they had slowly pulled forward, bringing Threepio into the light for the first time in a month. The wheels didn’t do much rolling with the charred tires, but they turned and the van pulled fairly easily. Finally, he was out in the open and they pulled him a little faster over to the side, out of the way. I’d call Les Schwab out later to replace the tires.

  Now, you can be sure that the contractors, the minions, and Bob all were astounded by the fact that Threepio had come through the fire. They were especially confused that while the tires were charred, that the brake lines and belts were undamaged. I decided I’d really rachet up their confusion. I opened the van door and turned the key. Threepio started up with his usual slight clatter which settled out to an even purr. I smiled and patted his steering wheel, saying “Nice job, thank you, Kit.”

  Jann walked over and looked at the car. I rolled down the window and smiled.

  She said, “Lightning, huh?”

  I nodded. “Yup.”

  Georgia and I had been chit-chatting while the work was going on, but she got bored about now and went inside.

  Bob proceeded to tear down the rest of the building as long as he was there. A dump truck arrived, and Bob loaded the remains of the building on it. There was no point in even looking at anything else. Besides a suspiciously clean area in the bottom of the barn stall where the stairs had been, everything else was a complete loss.

  I took a breath, happy to the point of nearly being giddy that I had my van back. And that my last me
mories of Kit were intact.

  Jann, standing by me, said “Well, I guess you’re finally ready to start the rebuilding process? To tell you the truth, I’d gotten a little impatient with you over the time you were wasting, waiting for a crane, but now I see you were right.” She shook her head. “What is it about that van that allowed it to survive all that?”

  I shrugged. “Just luck I guess.”

  She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and started making cell phone calls. She had a whole crew of builders ready to start as soon as the debris was clear, and Bob was making quick work of that. When he was finished with his work, he loaded up the ‘hoe in the reverse manner he’d unloaded it. He hopped down from the trailer and this time left the tie downs to the driver. He walked over to me and shook my hand.

  “Did you enjoy the show? I saw you watching.”

  I smiled. “I did indeed, you were amazing.”

  “Well, I certainly have something to tell stories about tonight. I hope someone got pictures, since no one will believe me otherwise.”

  I patted my phone. “I took lots of pictures, I’ll send some to you.”

  He gave me his phone number, shook my hand one final time and rumbled off in his big rig. What a nice guy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the cold, cold south.

  Iwas sitting in the kitchen in my favorite spot, drinking PepsiMax and reading. Olive came in with an expectant expression on her face, so I dropped the book and invited her to sit.

  She bubbled, “Well, looks like you’ve had some fun this morning!

  I laughed and said, “Sure sounds like you’ve had the same, dear. What’s up?”

  “Well, I think I found the place our mysterious rogue was pointin’ at. It’s in Antarctica. It’s high up in one of the frozen mountains, probably there for thousands of years, or longer. Looks like the ice has slowly eroded away around whatever it is, and the rocks underneath are close to the surface. I s’pose that’s what he’s got us looking at this time. Rocks.”