unfortunate for her kids I imagine. Don't worry about me, anyway; you had Neil here, why didn't he see to things?"
"Well hell, he's just office. He can only do so much, he hired some temps, but there was nobody here to properly supervise them, show'em what's what on how to get things done! Shit, a couple had never worked in a lumber yard before. Had more goddamn injuries than we did work gettin' done. One son'va'bitch called in because he got a goddamn splinter, a splinter!? Say's it got infected, that he woke up with a fever, had to go into the hospital!"
Jake stood laughing, blowing into his coffee and walked to a chair, sitting down looking up at Carl; who hadn't aged too bad considering his years. He was in his early 70's, with a Mickey Rooney look about him, albeit, a healthier, taller, better looking Mickey Rooney. Bald on the top, grey hair on the back and sides that started the day out groomed, smooth, but by the end of the day, would be standing out in every direction. Brown dress pants, white dress shirt and brown stripes, suspenders stretched over his medium sized gut.
"I'm glad you think that's funny!" He went on to gently berate Jake.
"Hey, what can I say, you did choose him for the position if I remember correctly."
Carl groaned, "Aaaah come on Jacob, now you know why that is."
"No, I don't know why that is! But hey ... I've long had to accept that it's just the way it is. You work your ass off for a company for years in and out, dependable for anything brought forward and some shit face schmuck with a suit on and a degree, sitting in air conditioner the last umpteen years of his life, steps in without any knowledge whatsoever and gets the job that should have been yours."
"Now dammit Jacob, I let you get away with more shit than anyone here, I-..."
"Bullshit! It's the least you could do considering what you get out of me! I fuckin' do anything and everything you goddamn need done around here! No ifs, ands or buts! You need a woods cleared, I fuckin' get it done! You need a warehouse set up, I fuckin' organize it and get it done! We get backed up and need guys to stay for overtime, I get the fuckers to stay and work! Fuckin' orders need dispatching and delivered quick, who the fucks gets his ass out there to see that it's delivered? My stupid ass! And what does fuck-face do? The schmuck with the degrees?"
"Calm down, calm down ... don't get all upset, I know. Okay, I know."
"Yeah, you know, you know - but where am I for it all?" He asked glaring.
Carl sat back in his chair behind his desk, running his hand over his face.
Jake decided, now or never.
"I'm getting married."
Carl's hand moved from his face and looked at Jake as if he didn't understand what he'd just said. "What was that, you just said?"
"I'm getting married."
Carl sat up in his chair and with squinting eyes looked real close at Jake, "Run that by me, one more time?"
"I - am - getting - married."
Carl shot up from his chair and ran to the office door and yelled out over the yard. "HEY! Yeah you, you, you, you, you and you ... up here... NOW!" He shouted as if in a panic.
Jake sighed, shaking his head, he slumped back in the chair bored, his legs stretched out before him as Carl came back around and stood over his chair looking down at him. The men he called, who had been working there for a long time and knew Jake, made quite a racket as they rushed up the steps, flying to the door, out of breath, looking in at him and Jake.
"What's up Carl?! What happened? What's wrong?"
"All of you, get in here! Crowd around, right around here, now look at him. Look at him, look long and hard. Who the hell do you see? Sitting right there in that chair, who is that?"
Jake ran his hand through his hair, inhaling and exhaling patiently as all stood around him looking down at him.
"Well, even with the new haircut, it's pretty clear who that is." One answered.
"Yeah, that's Jake, Carl. What's going on? That what you call us up here for? You know