Merriton

“Sierra’s not doing a project this year.” Randy was at the Thunder Brothers’ Ranch. The last time he stood in that kitchen, he owned it. Now, he was a visitor again. John Sebastian was nowhere to be found, but James was sitting at the kitchen table, pouring over three spiral notebooks worth of scribbles. The large farmer looked up from his notes and Randy continued, “So, I guess we’ll have one less person this year.”

A flash of guilt spread across James’ face and the scar on his lip quivered. Randy realized that he had come to love that scar on the hulking man’s lip. It always told him what he needed to know. “What’s up?” Maybe James was going to cancel the projects this year. Randy hoped it was so. The idea of doing the projects again this year was tiring and after the fight with Sierra, he didn’t even want to talk about it.

James slumped over the desk and ran his hand along the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to tell you this…” He paused and his shaggy blond hair flopped over his hand on his neck. The man stood up in a fidgety way and walked up to Randy. He put his hand on his back and led him to the couch. Randy tried to quell the discomfort. “It’s alright, James. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

The two of them sat on the couch together. Randy looked out the front window of the parlor. This house was just like his place. If he looked out that window at home, he would see the corral and Sierra’s new barn. The heat had come in handy this year and the birthing was so much easier on her goats now. The heat kicked on and Randy could smell the scent of dirty laundry creep into the parlor from one of the rooms.

James finally spoke, “Well, ‘member when Roscoe and Curly was there when we talked ’bout the projects last time?” Randy’s eyes returned to the farmer’s face. “Yes…” James stood up and walked over to the staircase and then back again. Randy couldn’t help but notice that in his house, there was a wall between the parlor and the foyer, but in the Sebastian house, it was one big open room. James started again, “Well, Roscoe told Dora and she told the principal and now the high school’s comin’.”

Randy felt his hand raise up to his forehead. He wiped his face in one long swipe. It helped to relax him. “Now don’t go wiping your face ’til you hear the rest, ‘kay?” James held up his hands like Randy had pulled a knife on him. Randy’s hand dropped in his lap and he looked at James. “The rest?” James nodded and the scar on his lip quivered like a leaf on a breezy day.

“Then Curly told Angie and pretty much anybody who’s been to Mt. Zen Cafe has heard ’bout the projects.” Randy felt like raising his hand to his forehead, but he kept it still on his lap. “Got so big that it wouldn’ta fit in my kitchen, so we were gonna have it at Mt. Zen, but then it got so big that it wouldn’ta fit there either, so we’re havin’ it at the high school in Emigration.” James lifted up his hands in frustration. “I ain’t never dealt with this many people before and I’m all outta them forms you gave me that people sign that says they won’t steal each others’ ideas. I made some photocopies at the school, but then I gave away my last one and I’m all out.”

Randy held his hand still. He tried to keep his voice calm. “How many?” James watched Randy’s hands uncomfortably. He turned away from the couch and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Randy could hear him rummaging up there. He took the opportunity to wipe his face slowly. The movement helped him calm down and he took a big breath. The family pictures along the staircase vibrated as the large man jumped back down to the parlor. In his hands he had a stack of wrinkled papers. He handed them to Randy.

“I didn’t count ‘em. These are just the ones that’re comin’ for sure. I told ‘em that they could just bring their forms with ‘em on the day of the projects.” Randy looked at the stack. There were easily over a hundred sitting in his hands: Curly, Roscoe, Dora… even A.S, plus a bunch of names he had never heard before. “I don’t know how, but the bishop heard about it, too and announced it in church, which wouldn’t been a big deal, but it was on Conference weekend, so the entire stake heard ’bout it.”

It all sounded like gibberish to him, but then again, church always did. He pulled all the papers together. “It’s not possible to do this many in one day.” James nodded and started to smile. “Yeah, me and Samson, we been talkin’ ’bout this.” Randy interrupted. “Who’s Samson?” James shook his head. “Kevin. We gotta call ‘im Samson now. You know, ’cause he’s strong enough to carry Lobo off the mountain in an avalanche…” James’ voice trailed off and Randy nodded. James started up again, “Well… Samson said you didn’t like to have a problem dropped in your lap without a solution, so here’s what we think. He went to some thing in Oregon called…”

The scar on James’ lip shook while he thought of the name. “I can’t remember what it was called. Somethin’ ’bout fire, I think. But, you only get five minutes and twenty slides and they advance every coupla seconds while you talk and you hafta finish up in five minutes or they kick you off the stage. That’s why we moved it to the school, so people could do it that way.”

Randy nodded. “Ignite.” The memory of the event flooded his mind. He had attended the first one with Kevin, no Samson, because a friend of theirs was presenting. Randy nodded. “That will work.” James smiled and the scar stretched so tight it couldn’t quiver. Randy asked, “Does everyone know that they will have to have a computer to present?”

James shook his head. “No, we’re doin’ it however works for them. They can do a…” He struggled for the words, “…with the computer like Samson said or with REAL slides. Dora’s got a slide projector at the school. Or with transparencies just like back when I went to school. Or you can just make posters like I did last year and hope for the best.” James smiled again, “Everybody knows ’bout it and those evening computer classes that Dora’s been teachin’ at the school are chock full of people trying to learn how to use ‘em so that they can make their slides look really cool. Nobody want’s to have stupid posters like I did.” His face reddened at the shame of it. “Shoulda just taken a video of the Snow Eater and used that for my demonstration. Woulda worked WAY better, dontcha think?”

Randy smiled and realized how much James had grown in the last year. He tapped the NDA forms into a neat pile. “I’m impressed, James! This can work!” Randy saw the rush of relief spread over James’ face.