Page 11 of Chasing Church
I didn’t respond right away, so he kept talking. “Right now, I’ve got you on Church’s project. She’s fam. She trusts me. She’s gonna let you make it. When this job ends, I’m hoping there won’t be a problem placing you on another job. It’ll probably have to be for a transplant or an investor. I don’t see the locals really messing with you on that level.”
“Why didn’t you say something? Tell me to reel that shit in? Anything?”
“I did. I told you when you were late for your first day on Church’s job. I told you what it was. Plus, what a grown man look like telling another grown man to control his dick?
I told you point-blank that if your shit started affecting my bottom line, I would have to fire you.”
I sighed. “I’m getting too old to keep bullshittin’ around with my life. It’s just so fucking boring here?—”
“Nah. It’s not boring here. I mean, it was boring as hell when I was a teenager. But as an adult? Shit. It’s not enough hours in the day or days in the week for me to do everything I wanna do.”
“You’re on your family man shit. You’re taking your kid to the zoo, having date nights with your wife, and eating Sunday dinner at Bayliss’ crib. I’m young. I’m single.”
“You ain’t that young.”
We both laughed.
“But cous’, for real. Jackson Falls—Oregon in general—is all about outdoorsy shit. ATVing, horseback riding, hiking, biking, canoeing, sailing, fishing, rock climbing, camping. You canalways find something to do that isn’t fucking up your reputation or literally fucking. And if you ain’t into the outdoors, you’re grown. Get on your motorcycle and ride up to Portland. They got the NBA, professional football, soccer, probably hockey. There’s stuff to do. Some of it might require you to drive for a minute, but there’s stuff to do. What are you tryna do?”
“Shit. Stay entertained.”
“Doing what?”
“Something other than sitting in my RV.”
He eyed me. “Sometimes, boredom exists in our own mindset. Let that thought sink in.”
I didn’t respond.
“Say, this Sunday, come through for dinner.”
I shook my head. “Nah, that’s a y’all thing. I’m not up to being on the outside, looking in.”
“It’s a family thing. Come through as my guest.”
“Don’t y’all go to church together and be all Caucasian on Sundays?”
He laughed his ass off. “Nah. We’re never Caucasian. And church is in the morning. We don’t expect you to show up at church. Just come through for dinner. My mom, Brewer, and Alisha be throwing down in that kitchen.”
That swayed me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. “Shoot me the time and the address.”
We dapped each other, and I stood to exit. Back in my truck, I couldn’t help thinking about what Bright said.Sometimes, boredom exists in your own mindset.
Were there things to do, things to keep me occupied and entertained, that I was overlooking on purpose? Jackson Falls was the smallest town I’d ever stayed in. My aunt Beverly had been telling me for years that there was opportunity in the town, but I could never get past how damn slow and dull it seemed.
When I was honest with myself, I could admit that my mind was already made up before I arrived. I decided when I left Denver and headed to Oregon that I would make my own entertainment. So I did what I always did. I let pussy and trouble amuse me.
At almost thirty-five years old, it was time for me to find something besides new pussy fascinating.
After my conversation with Bright,I started looking for local things to keep me occupied. Wednesday and Thursday nights, I went to Lex’s barbershop after I finished up my day on Church’s project to shoot the shit and hang out. I actually took the time to ask him what he did in his downtime as a single dude in this area.
Though his shop was in Chinook Woods, he actually stayed in Red Leaf. It was a bigger city and, apparently, offered options. He talked about being on a bowling league and a softball team. He occasionally went to the movies. He did football games on Friday nights. He figured it out. I could, too.
Chapter 7
Church
Mari and I prepared our hair care products in an unused commercial kitchen at the lodge. I was so thankful that Mrs. Strong believed in my dreams enough to offer us the space. At the same time, creating the products was a strain. Having to lug the apples from my mini-orchard to the lodge for production. Then having to lug the finished product back to my house. I was truly looking forward to the day the production room at my house was completed. That was why I was so excited when I stepped out of the door that led from my kitchen to the new space on Friday afternoon.
