MARCH 2017 • COUNTRY LIFE IN BC Lovesick Henderson and the sawdust pile


When we left off last month, Christopher showed Henderson the routine he had perfected to look after the calves. Determined to teach Christopher a lesson about cost control, Henderson scoured the Internet for information on veal


Chronicles by BOB COLLINS


calves and set his sights on reducing the cost of bedding. He headed to the feed store where he confronted Wade, who sent him to the sawmill. Ten minutes after he left


the feed store, Kenneth walked into the strip mall Starbucks. It wasn’t until he took the first sip that he realized that he’d subconsciously ordered a Grande Café Mocha, Janice’s favorite. He wished she was there to drink it. He sat thinking of her for half an hour then pulled the sawmill phone number that Wade, the feed store guy, had given him from his shirt pocket. He punched the numbers into his phone. “Nelson Brothers. This is


Ken. What can we do for you?” “Is this the sawmill?” “Nope, this is Ken, but I’m sitting in the sawmill office. How can I help you?” “My name is Kenneth Henderson. I got your number from Wade at the feed store.” “Are you calling about the


weekend clean up job?” “What job?” asked Kenneth. “Weekend clean up. We’re


paying 14 bucks an hour.” “I’m not looking for a job,” said Kenneth indignantly. “I want to buy sawdust for


bedding calves.” “Okay, then. We can sell


you that. Are you a farmer?” “Decidedly not. What if I was? Do I sound like a farmer?” “Don’t get your dander up,


The Woodshed


Mr. Henderson. I’m only asking because if you are, I can save you some taxes. I’m willing to take your word for it, either way.”


Kenneth thought


briefly. “Well, my son is raising


some calves, so I suppose that might make me a farmer in a way.” “Thought you might be,” said Ken Nelson. “You sort of sound like one. You looking for a truckload then?” “I’m not sure. How do you usually sell it?” “Farmers all buy it by the


truckload.” “How much does a


truckload cost?” asked Kenneth. “A hundred and seventy-


five bucks delivered.” “Is there more sawdust in a truck load than there is in 20 of those plastic bags of shavings they sell at the feed store?”


“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by how much more there is in a truck load.” “Alright,” said Kenneth. “I’ll


take the truck load. When can you deliver?” “I can send young Bobby out with it right away. Where are you to?” “To? What do you mean


where am I to?” “Where do you want the


sawdust delivered to?” Kenneth rambled into a set


of convoluted directions. Ken Nelson interrupted him just


before he finished. “Do you mean Tiny Olsen’s place? Are you the fella that bought Tiny’s? “ Are they ever going to stop


calling it Tiny Olsen’s place, wondered Kenneth. “Tiny’s place. Right next to


Newt Pullman’s. Is that you?” “That’s right.” “Well,” said Ken Nelson,


“Nice to talk to you. I’ve heard all about you. Where do you want us to unload the truck? “ “Where did Mr. Olsen unload it?” “Can’t say. As far as I know, him and Newt used to share a load and we always unloaded it at Newt’s. Most folks unload it as close as they can to where they’re going to use it. Where are you keeping the calves? ”


Kenneth absorbed the


logic. “You can dump it right in


front of the little red barn.” “Gotcha. Bobby should be


there in 45 minutes.” Kenneth said that he


wouldn’t be home until after noon. Ken Nelson told him not to worry; he could pay over the phone and the sawdust would be waiting when he got home.


Kenneth bought another mocha and returned to thoughts of Janice. He tortured himself for nearly an hour. She would probably be taking her lunch break about now. He considered calling her. He decided that his absence from the office and the uncertain date of his return would make a call legitimate. She‘d told him not to but it would be worth risking her anger just to hear her voice. If she was alone, they might even have a chance to talk. He closed his


eyes and re-lived the moment at her apartment when they first kissed. He scrolled her number. As he was about to push it, the phone rang. His heart skipped. Could it be? Could she have been thinking of him and touched his number at the precise instant he was reaching to touch hers? Was there some psychic force of love drawing them together? He answered the call. “Janice? Is it you? I’ve been


thinking of you all morning.” “Huh?” It took Kenneth a second or


two to climb off cloud nine and shift gears. “Who is this?” “Sorry. I think I mighta got


the wrong number. I’m after Kenneth Henderson.” “I’m Henderson. What do


you want?” “Ah, Henderson. Good. This is Ken Nelson calling. Bobby’s at your place right now and he called in just to make sure you want the whole load right in front of the little barn. Your wife says she doesn’t know anything about a load of


sawdust. Bobby checked for the calves inside to make sure he’s got the right spot. Is that where you want it all?” Anger replaced the


romantic idyll of Janice in Kenneth’s mind. “Did I not make this clear? Did I not say right in front of the little red barn? You assured me you understood. You’ve interrupted a very important call I was about to take. Just dump the sawdust and don’t bother me again. Understood?” “Perfectly. Sorry about the


important call.” Ken Nelson chuckled to


himself. It looks like everything I’ve heard about that clown is true, he thought. He dialed his phone. “Bobby? Let ‘er rip.”


Kenneth tried to find Janice again but she was gone along with the resolve he had mustered to call her. He headed for home. His jaw fell in amazement as he drove up the driveway. The barn had disappeared behind a mountain of sawdust. To be continued ...


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