Duct Tape and Bailing Wire For a Breaking Heart

The following morning there was work to do. Clint pulled out 2 big bags of Granola breakfast. And we heard the semi of the well crew pulling up. The hole would have to plunge 200 feet before it hit the source of the water that also fed the Frio River. I had to continue work on the airstrip and Clint had to continue working and laying the cinder block for the café. The campsite was a 3ring circus as mortar was being mixed and Clint made a few more runs for non-drinkable water to mix with the mortar. The well was being drilled and I worked on the rock. There was silence for lunch the well was still 100 feet from water. Clint had worked on raising a corner of the café to a good 6 feet. The ridge was flattened out. I had a couple of boulders before I could start smoothing down the limestone strip. We overheard from the radio that ring of fire high was breaking up and I spotted puffy cumulus clouds overhead and mainly to the east they were building in the heat. A ring of fire high is simply a mountain of air that can be found sitting over Texas during the summer time. It effectively suppresses development of daytime heating thundershowers by simply crushing them. Occasionally something from the Gulf of Mexico blows it away it may weaken and break or just plain move. Once gone and barometric pressures get below 29.92 daytime heating showers can build assuming there are no strong upper level wind currents to rip developing thundershowers to shreds. Depending on the heat and water involved they can be small widely scattered and big and scattered. Once they get going till sunset they become heat engines as water condenses more heat his released and cycle feeds upon itself building a tall tower of water. Once sunset comes the lack of heat kills it. The cloud collapses upon itself. A big 50,000 monster may last beyond 10:00 and soak the ground beneath it and drop hail but those were freaks only happening over the same place once a summer or two. It was fun wat-ching this develop We finished off 2lbs of ham a loaf of bread and good-sized jar of Mayo-nnaise along with a gallon of Gatorade before siesta time we made comments as we watched the building clouds march northwest towards us.

The rain started innocently enough at 1st we heard the thunder and dashed in from my Cedar topped bunk to Clint's Bronco right as the gallon sized drops started hitting the parched landscape. The air became cool and the winds gusty as a small microburst hit. A column of air just collapsed coming down with the speed of an express train hitting the rock and scattering everywhere. There was nothing to do but wait for the couple hours as the big monster collapsed on itself. The dry dead earth was soaked and it was great to feel the relief from the heat. I could not feel more. All the lime dust I had kicked up was soon drifting its way into a creek that would feed the Frio. The well crew kept on digging deep beyond the water point and even installed a pump. Clint and I watched from the dry confines of the Bronco. The rain abated soon stopped all together. It was a text book daytime heating shower. It was great to be wet and cool instead of hot and dry.

After the storm was done the power company put in my power hook up and ran the 1st wire to the well. The pump was started. Clint and I indulged in the 1st shot of hard water from our well. It tasted great. The café had taken a visible shape and the runway looked more like a runway. It was too wet to do more work so we took our second evening off.

The following 4 days passed quickly. Clint was a busy beaver working on the main walls of the café. I carved out the runway and got to be one smooth sheet of limestone. That Saturday Clint would watch it be paved a piece of blacktop on white. I had cut enough rock to get a good 5 foot pile on the north side of the café. My next arrival would be on an air-plane that I would be flying. Clint got the walls to be 5 feet in height. The door roof and rooms were yet to be put in. The windows were on the south side out of the west sun. I could not deny things were beginning to take shape. The dream was becoming a reality. I was happy about it.

In those 4 days there was also a growing restlessness within me. I could not wait to get back to Fry. Kathrine and her oncoming collision with brutal reality were a concern. A lamb was heading for slaughter and I was going to do what I could to stop it. Tevin was orbiting out of reach and his life was not going to get nearer the truth. His blood would still be as he admitted a super fund clean up sight. Kathrine was just frustrating She was so naïve yet raised in the truth but not having any experience nor wanting to experience that sin kills in no uncertain ways. I was determined to do what I could to stop it regardless of the fact I doubted I could do anything about. There was anger burning within me I was angry seeing people self destruct and losing friends gets old fast and I had seen far too many slide and my grief and pain was turning into raw burning anger.

It was Friday and Clint and I took up the invitation to attend a Cabin 4 initiation. I guess if I die any time soon I would love to be cremated and ashes scattered below the fire it at Astral Beach. My soul in heaven my remains at every Cabin 4 initiation till Christ's second coming. We were picked up and shuttled to room B by the program workcrew room on staff hill. Clint and my presence was to remain secret until initiation. Clint and I both indulged in the rarest of things a shower and air conditioning. Dinner was brought up to us. We snuck in at round up concealed way in the background. We scampered back up staff hill and donned our bandannas holding the knot that tied them off to the center so as not to enter Men Without Women Activities too soon. We made our way down after an hour or so and Britt told the guys and us from Program Workcrew and a couple other Cabin 4 initiates that it would be another fifteen minutes. We talked amongst each other not knowing each other's name but one.

That night was sacred all Cabin 4 initiations are. Bob Marely's "No Woman No Cry" is a redundant theme throughout Cabin 4's history. The song is celebration of life a slice of it. Now as twelve individuals were crossing the bridge from youth to adult hood both loss and gain shared the stage. Pain and hope mingling together forming the rich brew of life a gift to be savored. Change a constant as God's love and what was right remains unchanged forev-er. The bitter was the mourning for the child hood being left behind and sweet was the hope for the new future being entered and the utter richness of life. There was absolutely no other place on this planet that I would rather be then at Astral Beach on a night of Cabin 4 initiation. There are some things that reek of good. This was one of them.

"Burn you fire burn"

"Fill the night with your orange light"

"Burn you fire burn"

"Tonight you'll light the way to childhood being left behind"

"Burn you fire burn"

"Fill the night with your orange light"

"Burn you fire burn"

"Tonight you'll burn forever"

"In the hearts and minds of those gathered before you"

"This bittersweet sacred night"