“Why did we remove the dirt, just to replace it with different colored dirt?” Yari asked the moment she let the wheelbarrow fall to its side, its contents added to the packed grey square they were filling in. She was sweating despite the cold early spring chill. Alex wasn’t even wearing a sweatshirt anymore.

“We removed the sod. That would be soil, roots, grass, and other living things. This is just inert dirt.”

“Ha, inert dirt.” Yari snorted.

Alex looked at her blankly for a moment before giving her a smile that said. “Ha, I’m a poet and I didn’t know it.” Or at least that was how Yari read the look.

They started the morning off by cutting large flat green boards into sections that were one foot by eight feet by half inch, so yeah, really flat. Those were screwed on to the beam so they formed a tiny wall from the ground to the top of the beam. Yari had considered it work until Alex brought out the wheelbarrow and showed her to his pit in the forest. The pit was essentially a small hill where Alex had removed the black layer of dirt and was taking the clumpy grey stuff. The first few trips Yari had spent most of her time looking around an ominous treeline, somewhat expecting something to jump out and eat her. It didn’t take long before she was too tired to care. The endless grind of shoveling and transporting the grey dirt to the shed overwrote everything else. The only break was raking the dirt level and smashing it down with a heavy piece of flat metal with a shovel handle. She was sitting on the beam and trying to catch her breath when the sound of wheels crunching across the gravel driveway caught Alex’s and then her attention.

Alex watched with his usual blank expression. His hands resting on the top of the shovel handle. He looked at Yari, shifted his facial features to a normal, mildly happy, human look and said, “Guess I better pretend to be friendly.”

Yari snorted at that. Anyone else might have found the comment off putting, but that was just Alex’s humor. It was subtle, but genuine.

The man that exited the large white truck was tall and thin. An older human, maybe in his early fifties with short salt and pepper hair, a clean shaven face with high cheekbones, and an outfit that yelled cowboy from the wide brimmed hat down to the leather boots. His lips parted in a friendly, but toothy grin as he took Alex’s hand.

“Well hey there, I’m Father Richard Siemens.”

“Alex Hesher.”

He separated from Alex and reached for Yari’s hand. “Yari Sausbrough.”

“I didn’t mean to catch you while you had company.”

“We’re cousins, she’s staying with me for the summer.”

“Cousins? How’s that work? Sorry, marriage obviously. Well River’s Bend only has one church and you’re both welcome among the congregation.”

Alex gave the man an apologetic smile. “Afraid I’m the sort to give thanks to the Sun and the Moon.”

Father Siemens nodded. “I can understand that.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Oh, also a sun worshiper.” Yari practically blurted when the Father’s eyes shifted to her.

“Well you're both still welcome. Anyhow I didn’t actually come out here to convert you to the ways of our lord so much as to welcome you to the neighborhood and let you know that the Cherrywood Picnic will be on Saturday two weeks from now.”

“I thought that was a town and invite only thing?” Alex asked.

“Yep, but the tax record says you’re part of the town.” He leaned toward Yari, “And considering you’re staying the summer here, you ought to consider yourself invited. We’ll be putting on a pig roast, a whole bunch of fresh asparagus dishes, and live music. The whole nine yards. Can we count you as coming?”

“What’s the fee?”

“Well, Cherrwood comes out of the taxes, so you’re already paying for it.”

Alex looked at Yari before turning back to the Father.

“Sure.”

“Well then we’ll see you there.”

“Yes.”

“Saturday two weeks from now.”

“Got it.”

The man shook Alex’s hand again and tipped his hat to Yari before climbing back into his truck.

“You didn’t have to accept that on my account.” Yari said apologetically.

“You’re right, but I live here now and should try to play nice with the locals.”

“He says, well, a lot.”

Alex looked her in the eyes and cocked an eyebrow. “Sun worshiper?”

“What, that’s what you said.”

“No. I said that I give thanks to the Sun and the Moon.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Where does all life come from?”

Yari frowned. “Ahhh, the birth of the universe?”

“Mmm, maybe, but mostly the Sun. It feeds the grass which feeds the animals, which feeds us. It keeps this ball of earth and water warm and glued together. Without it, we all die.”

“How’s that different from a sun worshiper?”

“Have you ever looked that stuff up? It’s some weird shit.”

"So I just told a Cleric that I'm into weird shit?"

"If it helps, he's just a preacher."

"Great." Yari muttered more to herself than to Alex as she returned to the house project.

It was another couple hours before Alex declared the dirt work done. He pulled out a small grill and started some pork steaks. Yari poked her head into the shed where he was producing all this stuff from. It was the same size as his home, but due to not living in it, it could be full of shelves and packed with tools, a full sized refrigerator, and a mishmash of other objects. Yari was sweaty and dirty. The chill of the morning had almost completely faded leaving it too cold to not wear a hoodie while idle, and too hot to wear it while working. After lunch, Alex set back to work, because of course he did. Yari wasn't expecting long walks on sandy beaches, she didn't have the money for that, but constant nonstop work wasn't on her summer to-do list either. Then again, it would be nice to have more room in the shed she was staying in.

They fit two inch thick, four foot by eight foot sheets of foam onto plastic covered dirt. Following that were more two by sixes, that were not green, run widthwise at identical intervals, sixteen inches apart. Why sixteen? Yari had no idea and even Alex didn't know the reason behind it other than it was a standard thing to do. More foam was cut to fit between the "floor joists" as Alex called them, then they glued and screwed thick four by eight sheets of plywood down, covering the whole thing. Yari wasn't very good with the impact driver, the tool thingy that forced the screws into the wood, but it was kind of fun. Alex tarped the whole thing off with plastic and they were apparently done for the day.

She stood with her hands on her hips grinning at the platform. She could pull thousands of dollars into the business she worked for on a daily basis, but that never had a visual representation of progress other than a number on a balance sheet. She was sore and tired and sticky, but there was a sense of accomplishment.