Shed No Tears

Hurricane Noel blew a path of destruction through the Caribbean in late October. Then it began a winding journey up the Atlantic Ocean's eastern seaboard.

Thanks to the cold water of the North Atlantic, the storm had been reduced to a post-tropical force by the time it neared the old town. Nevertheless, it still packed a strong punch. Trees were downed and power was lost in many parts of the province. Coastal areas were particularly hard hit. In some places, roads were crumpled by the roaring surf and displaced rocks.

In the Sack, the storm caused a few tense moments as strong winds and torrential rain battered the neighbourhood. Just after four o'clock in the morning, the power went out. Twelve hours would pass before it was restored.

The most noticeable result of the storm revealed itself when daylight arrived. Autumn leaves had been torn from the trees and lifted from the ground. The wind and rain had shredded the leaves into a slick, confetti-like substance. Windows, doors, driveways and cars were coated with it.

It was a Sunday morning when Sack residents awoke to their first glimpse of the storm's impact. Shortly after seven o'clock, your agent arose from a night of disjointed slumber. Mrs. Wonders was already awake. I could hear her puttering about downstairs.

Slipping into a bathrobe, I stepped toward the bedroom window and drew the curtains. That's when I first noticed the shredded leaf debris. Nevertheless, the Sack seemed quiet and still.

As I turned away from the window, I suddenly caught a glimpse of movement on Gordon's driveway. Someone's head had popped up on the far side of his prized SUV. Then the head quickly popped down again.

I turned back to the window for a closer look. Seconds later, I was rewarded with a clear view of Gordon himself. It took a few more seconds to realize what he was doing.

Gordon, it seemed, was busy with his number one priority at seven o'clock on a powerless November morning, mere hours after the passing of a furious post-tropical storm.

He was washing his car.

***

Oscar's garage is regarded with awe by most Sack residents. It's filled to capacity by cartons, curiosities and, as he likes to say, "a whole lot of crap."

Of course, nothing of any commercial value can be found inside Oscar's garage. He would be the first to tell you this. Over the years, it has simply become the depository for things Oscar plans to throw away.

He just hasn't got around to throwing anything out yet.

***

Oscar has never been particularly bothered by the state of his garage. On occasion, he'll muse about cleaning it out, but nothing ever comes of it.

Other Sack residents seem far more affected by the appearance of his garage than Oscar does. Both Gordon and Big Doug look mortified whenever they catch a glimpse of it. Elizabeth, an office administrator at the local psychiatric hospital, says Oscar's garage is a sure sign of clinical depression.

On a number of occasions, both Ben and Little Doug have volunteered to help Oscar clean out his garage. Oscar expressed only mild interest in these offers and the matter was quickly forgotten.

Weed, of course, recognizes the state of Oscar's garage as a fine mixture of artistry and laziness. Most people, he argues, have no trouble simply being lazy. But Oscar, he points out, knows how to do it with flair.

In his own defence, Oscar says he's often too busy to think about his garage. Even though his work demands bear a curious resemblance to unemployment, he says people shouldn't be too quick to rush to judgement.

Pointing at the side of his skull, Oscar said, "It might not look like I'm doing much, but my mind is always running like a perpetual motion machine."

***

Oscar's boy, Dorian is fifteen-years-old. He hasn't set foot inside their garage since he was six. The fact that it's impossible to walk inside the garage has nothing to do with this.

When Dorian was six, Oscar wanted to dissuade him from playing amongst the accumulation of garage junk. He told the boy that a gang of angry leprechauns was living somewhere deep in its interior. He said there was no telling what these irate little Irishmen would do if Dorian happened to disturb them.

This is why Dorian still gives the garage a wide berth.

***

Oscar's wife's given name is Gloria. She is a very patient woman.

Whenever Gloria grows tired of the messy garage, she threatens to clean it out herself. Somehow, Oscar always manages to talk her out of this. He tells her that he needs to buy a garden shed before he can completely clean out the garage. He says he needs the shed to store all of his tools and garden equipment. After doing this, he says they'll be able to park their car in the garage for the first time in more than ten years.

Even though Oscar doesn't own any tools or garden equipment, Gloria usually lets the matter drop when he brings up the need for the garden shed.

***

In late September, however, Gloria did something very interesting. She bought a garden shed from the local Home Depot.

A truck dropped it off at the top of their driveway on a Friday afternoon. The shed parts were contained in two large eight-foot boxes. Its arrival came as a complete surprise to Oscar.

Oscar was in great distress when he learned about Gloria's purchase. Although he had lost his primary defence for maintaining a messy garage, he was far more concerned about another matter.

He would have to find someone to assemble the shed.

***

Some people, of course, are innately handy. Others develop this skill over time and with experience. Oscar, unfortunately, doesn't fall into either category. By his own admission, he's far more of an "idea man" than one who has the ability to build or repair things.

After a brief and futile attempt to convince Gloria to return the shed to Home Depot, Oscar was left to ponder its assembly. His ruminations on the matter lasted for several weeks. Meanwhile, the boxed shed remained at the top of his driveway.

Finally, after several days of rain, Gloria pledged that she would erect the shed on her own, with the help of any Sack resident she could muster. Unwilling to accept such shame, Oscar did the only thing a man could do in such a situation.

He asked Little Doug to help him assemble the shed.

***

Little Doug, of course, is already responsible for the majority of maintenance on Oscar's house. It made complete sense that Oscar would seek his assistance in such a matter.

However, Little Doug is also someone who is quick to offer his skills to others whenever the need arises. When Oscar approached him about assembling the shed, he quickly explained that his "dance card was filled." He said he would be happy to help, but couldn't commit to the project for another week.

Oscar relayed this information to Gloria, but she was stalwart in her refusal to wait another day.

***

Backed into a corner, Oscar decided to call out to the greatest engineering minds available in the Sack. Big Doug said he would be happy to help, but was tied up with his season-opening curling bonspiel. Ben, who is no slouch in the ways and means of building things, was leaving for Kingston, Ontario for his predeployment training. A senior cook in the Canadian Forces, Ben will be going to Afghanistan in January for a six-month period.

In the end, Oscar was able to put together a crew to help him assemble the garden shed. The "dream team," as he described it to me later, consisted of himself, Weed, Maxwell and Jeff Christ.

The shed-building began early on a Saturday afternoon. It was supposed to start earlier, but everyone, save for Jeff Christ, slept in that morning.

***

The garden shed was made of a hard plastic resin. For the most part, the pieces snapped together, although some needed to be attached with various bits of hardware.

After opening the boxes on the driveway, the four men began to peruse the instructions. That's when the first argument began. Jeff Christ insisted that it would be important to build a wood platform for the shed. This way, he argued, it could be anchored in place. Maxwell vehemently disagreed with this. He said his one-armed uncle has the exact same shed placed directly on the ground. Oscar and Weed sided with Maxwell, mainly because of the work involved in building a wood platform.

Outnumbered by his "dream team" colleagues, Jeff Christ agreed to proceed without the platform. But he did point out that a gravel base would be a good idea. Although initially reluctant to add another step to the building process, the team eventually agreed with the idea. The turning point in the discussion came when Maxwell pointed out that a supply of gravel could be easily purloined from the construction site of Serenity Terrace, a new cul-de-sac being built adjacent to the Sack.

Oscar and Weed were then dispatched with wheelbarrows to the nearby construction site. Jeff Christ refused to partake in the unauthorized removal of the gravel. Maxwell, of course, said he couldn't possibly assist in any form of heavy lifting, on account of tissue damage in his painting shoulder.

***

After laying the gravel base, assembly of the garden shed began in earnest.

Within an hour, the base and four walls had been erected. After numerous attempts to affix the roof to this structure, it was discovered that a key step in the assembly process had been omitted. As a result, the four walls had to be dismantled and the whole process had to begin anew.

Maxwell blamed the omission on the unnecessary complexity of the instructions. For his part in the mix-up, Weed blamed it on marijuana. Oscar said the problem was caused by Maxwell's poor literacy skills.

Jeff Christ said the setback was caused because no one, other than himself, had any interest in actually looking at the instructions.

***

Before resuming the assembly process, Oscar declared that a break was needed. The "dream team" proceeded to walk to the local coffee cathedral. After a round of coffee and maple sugar donuts, they returned to the work site.

That's when they discovered that the instructions for the assembly of the garden shed had disappeared.

Jeff Christ told me later that he believes the instructions likely were blown away into a distant yard. There was, after all, a strong breeze on that particular day. Oscar, however, thinks Weed hid the instructions "just to throw a wrench into things." Maxwell claimed they didn't need the "stupid thing" anyway.

Nevertheless, the assembly proceeded, as Oscar put it, "sans instructions."

***

For the next three hours, the four men toiled away on the shed. Jeff Christ described the process as "one step forward and two steps back."

At one point, Computer Doug joined the group. His appearance did not, in any way, accelerate their progress. This is because Computer Doug is genetically incapable of building or repairing anything other than computers.

Nevertheless, Computer Doug remained with the "dream team" until the project was completed. Later, Oscar learned that Computer Doug's kids were hosting a play date with a trio of Ritalin-infused, school chums at the time. Apparently, he told his wife, Marion that Oscar was in dire need of his assistance in erecting the garden shed.

***

It was dark by the time the assembly of the shed was completed. Flashlights were needed to complete the final steps.

In the end, there was some dispute as to whether the shed had been correctly assembled. Jeff Christ pointed out that there were several pieces of hardware left over. But Maxwell argued that manufacturers always give more hardware than necessary, "just to be on the safe side."

There was also the matter of the shed door. Apparently, it didn't close properly. A great deal of pushing and pulling was required to close the door. The same effort was required to open it.

But with a light showering of snow flurries in the air, Oscar declared the assembly to be a success. He said it didn't matter if the quality of the job was good. Instead, it only mattered that their work had been "good enough."

***

At about nine o'clock in the morning, following the arrival of the remnants of Hurricane Noel, your agent's cell phone rang. I almost missed the call because of the noise emanating from Big Doug's house. Unwilling to accept a temporary loss of power, he was running his recently-acquired generator at the top of his driveway. The rumbling of its motor reverberated throughout the Sack.

Big Doug, of course, is not a man to go without his Sunday morning bacon and eggs under any circumstance.

When I finally picked up the phone, Oscar unleashed a torrent of complaints about Big Doug and his generator. Then he ranted for a while about Gordon and his SUV-washing ways. Finally, he asked if I could pop over to his house for a moment.

I said I would be there in a jiffy.

***

Oscar was standing in front of his house when I arrived. He motioned for me to follow him into the backyard.

When I caught a full glimpse of the yard, I was temporarily lost for words. Oscar's garden shed seemed to have imploded during the onslaught of the post-tropical storm. The two main roof parts were flung in distant, yet separate parts of the yard. The grey walls were lying on the ground amidst the base of the shed. On the base stood a barbeque and a partially-filled hockey equipment bag. These were the only items he had managed to put into the shed after it was erected. Neither item had been located in the garage. It remained filled with Oscar's cartons, curiosities and other "crap."

Oscar said he still hadn't got around to cleaning out the garage, despite the existence of the shed. Given the destruction in the yard, he said this was quite fortuitous.

The hockey equipment bag belonged to Dorian. Some of the gear had been torn from the bag and was also strewn about the yard. I saw an elbow pad lodged in a piece of shrubbery. Everything, of course, was covered with the pulpy leaf debris created by the storm.

It was, to say the least, an unholy mess.

***

"So," Oscar said calmly, "can you help me clean this mess up?"

I looked at him for a moment, still taking in the state of his yard and the remnants of his recently-acquired garden shed.

"I'll buy you a coffee and a maple sugar donut when the power comes back on," he added quickly.

"Of course," I replied, stooping to pick up one of the shed walls. "So where do you want to put this stuff?"

"Well," he answered, with a grin on his face, "I think we're gonna have to put it all in the garage."

***