Read Online Spider Lake by Gregg Hangebrauck - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gregg Hangebrauck
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baloney sandwich and keep the apple pie to ourselves? If you wish you may switch the meals but do you think poor old skinny Sam would be as enthusiastic about eating your lunch or his?”
Ben’s mother looked him in the eye and waited for an answer to come. Ben knew she was right and he began to shuffle one foot back and forth across the linoleum. His chin had dropped to his chest. “I know.” Was all he could say.
Ben’s mom crouched down to eye level of her son. She put a soft hand on each of his shoulders and said; “Benny, you know I love you. If I thought you could sit still for a lunch like this, I would have given you the same thing as Mister Regola. I give you baloney and an apple so you can run with it. God knows I have watched you fidget so many times at this table. You will have your apple pie after your dinner. Now run along and bring that poor old man his lunch before he wastes away to nothing.”
Then came the hug. Ben looked around to see if anyone could see it and noticed the coast was clear. He hugged her back only when no one else was looking.
He left the main house and made his way along the row of cabins to number six where the old man was staying. To his surprise the old guy was sitting in the shade at the number six picnic table. It seemed to Ben that the man was deep in thought. He was looking out at the lake in an almost meditative state. Ben looked around for the monkey. It was on the roof eating what looked to be a grass hopper, or perhaps a moth. The old man dropped his gaze and turned his head towards Ben.
“You won’t find your footing looking up at the sky young man. I would hate to be picking pine needles out of my lunch!” The old man gave Ben a smile and a wink.
Ben put the plate down on the picnic table while keeping one eye on the monkey. It was now running along the rain gutter of the cabin chasing another bug. “Here is your lunch mister Regola. My mom says you are to eat it all. I will be back later to collect the plate and silverware.”
“Well bless her heart. Would you look at that. You tell your dear mother that I would be a fool if I didn’t eat each and every crumb on this plate, and what’s more you tell her that she has my sincerest gratitude for such a fine home cooked meal.”
“I will mister Regola.”
“Ben, would you do me one more favor?”
“Sure, what can I do for you mister Regola?”
“Well for starters you can call me Sam. I am wondering son, if you have any woodworking tools in the tool shed that I may borrow. I am getting a bit stir crazy and I would like to busy myself a bit.”
Ben wasn’t sure if he could lend out his father’s tools without asking first. “Sir, uh Mr. Sam, I would have to ask my dad first. What sort of tools are you looking for?”
“Well I guess I would need a cross-cut saw and a mitre box and maybe a hand drill and a chisel for starters. I would also need to use a few of those weathered boards behind the tool shed if that’s alright.”
“I’ll go ask my Dad if you can borrow his tools. I’m sure you can have the wood. What are you going to make?”
“Well son, it’s sort of a surprise. If I told you what I was up to, you might slip and spoil the surprise for me.”
Ben was more than curious about the unusual request from the occupant of cabin six. Generally people asked for things such as nets, or Coleman fuel, or recipes for beer battering fish, not woodworking tools. He was not entirely sure what to make of the old guy. He wasn’t even sure if he trusted him. Maybe it was the trick with the coins which planted the seed of doubt in Ben, or perhaps it was the secretive woodworking project that raised his doubts.
Later, after securing the permission he needed, Ben led Sam to the tool shed where the tools were kept. Sam looked the shed over. He studied all of the hand tools which hung from the peg-board above the work bench. He looked right past the newer electric tools such as drills and circular
Ben’s mother looked him in the eye and waited for an answer to come. Ben knew she was right and he began to shuffle one foot back and forth across the linoleum. His chin had dropped to his chest. “I know.” Was all he could say.
Ben’s mom crouched down to eye level of her son. She put a soft hand on each of his shoulders and said; “Benny, you know I love you. If I thought you could sit still for a lunch like this, I would have given you the same thing as Mister Regola. I give you baloney and an apple so you can run with it. God knows I have watched you fidget so many times at this table. You will have your apple pie after your dinner. Now run along and bring that poor old man his lunch before he wastes away to nothing.”
Then came the hug. Ben looked around to see if anyone could see it and noticed the coast was clear. He hugged her back only when no one else was looking.
He left the main house and made his way along the row of cabins to number six where the old man was staying. To his surprise the old guy was sitting in the shade at the number six picnic table. It seemed to Ben that the man was deep in thought. He was looking out at the lake in an almost meditative state. Ben looked around for the monkey. It was on the roof eating what looked to be a grass hopper, or perhaps a moth. The old man dropped his gaze and turned his head towards Ben.
“You won’t find your footing looking up at the sky young man. I would hate to be picking pine needles out of my lunch!” The old man gave Ben a smile and a wink.
Ben put the plate down on the picnic table while keeping one eye on the monkey. It was now running along the rain gutter of the cabin chasing another bug. “Here is your lunch mister Regola. My mom says you are to eat it all. I will be back later to collect the plate and silverware.”
“Well bless her heart. Would you look at that. You tell your dear mother that I would be a fool if I didn’t eat each and every crumb on this plate, and what’s more you tell her that she has my sincerest gratitude for such a fine home cooked meal.”
“I will mister Regola.”
“Ben, would you do me one more favor?”
“Sure, what can I do for you mister Regola?”
“Well for starters you can call me Sam. I am wondering son, if you have any woodworking tools in the tool shed that I may borrow. I am getting a bit stir crazy and I would like to busy myself a bit.”
Ben wasn’t sure if he could lend out his father’s tools without asking first. “Sir, uh Mr. Sam, I would have to ask my dad first. What sort of tools are you looking for?”
“Well I guess I would need a cross-cut saw and a mitre box and maybe a hand drill and a chisel for starters. I would also need to use a few of those weathered boards behind the tool shed if that’s alright.”
“I’ll go ask my Dad if you can borrow his tools. I’m sure you can have the wood. What are you going to make?”
“Well son, it’s sort of a surprise. If I told you what I was up to, you might slip and spoil the surprise for me.”
Ben was more than curious about the unusual request from the occupant of cabin six. Generally people asked for things such as nets, or Coleman fuel, or recipes for beer battering fish, not woodworking tools. He was not entirely sure what to make of the old guy. He wasn’t even sure if he trusted him. Maybe it was the trick with the coins which planted the seed of doubt in Ben, or perhaps it was the secretive woodworking project that raised his doubts.
Later, after securing the permission he needed, Ben led Sam to the tool shed where the tools were kept. Sam looked the shed over. He studied all of the hand tools which hung from the peg-board above the work bench. He looked right past the newer electric tools such as drills and circular
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