I came home smelly, dirty and sticky from the sap in all of those weeds I had to whack out of existence. Rob and I ranked so badly we were forced to sit in the bed of the truck as it rained. Which wasn’t bad as we had cold bottles of water, the wind rustling all around us, and a good seventy-five dollars each. I felt proud, almost grown-up…except without the bills and worrying about what to cook for dinner.
The rain had stopped shortly before we arrived to my house and we off-loaded my mower from the trailer. Mr. Bent gave me my seventy-five dollars. Rob gave me a high-five.
“We got two jobs, maybe three tomorrow afternoon.”
“You got it,” I replied as I wheeled away from the trailer and to the storage shed, which was locked.
If I ran into the house smelling like a pigpen the smell would linger in my grandfather’s nose like bad ground pork so I opened the door and stood in the mud room.
“I’m back and I need the key to the shed.”
“It’s on the desk.” Grandpa said from den.
“You don’t want me coming in like this.”
Grandma walked toward the room, took one look at me and smiled. “That looks and smells like hard work.”
“Yes ma’am,” I replied.
She moved her hands to invite me to run pass her to grab the keys.
“I smell work!” Grandpa shouted.
“Yes sir,” I said back as I sprinted past to the desk and then back outside.
I rolled the mower into position and then opened the shed door. The door was just wide enough to allow me to roll it back in. Placing it in was easy. Rolling it backwards already ended up with a wheel striking the door frame and my chest slamming into the control bar. I dreaded ever having to park a car into a small garage.
I missed eating dinner with my grandparents while I took a shower. There was a plate of a pork chop with green beams, rice and gravy waiting for me.