2008-9-28 01:40:00
by Ted Dewey
The afternoon sun was doing its best to peek through the clouds that were forming overhead. The sultry air suggested that it might rain.
Rodney had made the two phone calls from the airport. The girl that had answered the call at the Sheriff's office thanked him, and said she would deliver the message. The rental service in Phoenix promised him a chopper within an hour.
Julie had hinted that they stay here for a few days. She was in need of some new clothes. Tomorrow they could get in the Ford and go to the city. A dozen or so new dresses would help her upset stomach, she thought.
Rodney gave them his blessing and the phone number of the flying service in Phoenix. It would bring them back in when they were ready.
Henry and Julie had returned to the ranch. They would spend the rest of the day there, then go to Phoenix the first thing in the morning.
As usual, Henry found something to do. There were several tin cans in the trash barrel. He dug them out and stripped off the labels, then took them down to the almost dry creek and gave them a good washing and added a couple of inches of dry sand to each of them.
A slight noise come from behind him. He turned around and Julie was standing there with sad, puzzled look on her face. "What in the world are you doing?" she asked.
Henry moved dose to her and slipped an arm around her waist. "Feeling better?" he asked.
Julie nodded. "I am fine now. Had a few bad moments this afternoon but that is all passed. Now what are you doing with these cans?"
Henry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I think I told you," he said softly, "that many years ago I got married."
Julie nodded. "You mentioned it."
Henry's eyes glistened, "Mary was a sweet kid. Too bad she passed away so young."
"What does that have to do with the tin cans?"
Henry pointed with his finger. "She is buried over on that little knoll. She loved the flowers around here, so I try and keep a few on her grave."
Julie's eyes grew misty. "Oh Henry. That is so sweet of you. So I would guess that the cans are to hold the flowers?"
Henry nodded. "When they are good and dry I will take them to the shop and give them a paint job. The dry sand in the bottom will stop the wind from blowing them over."
"Have you picked the flowers yet?"
"No, I was just getting everything ready."
"Then I will help you. Is there any particular kind that you have in mind?"
Henry nodded and pointed with his finger. "See those long stem delicate clusters, white as snow? I believe the correct name for it is Yarrow."
Julie walked over to the clump of flowers. "How long of a stem shall I leave on them?"
"About four or five inches. There is a lot of it around here so pick an arm full."
The couple wandered around through the brush. The bundle in their arms was getting larger by the minute. Suddenly, Henry pointed at the ground ahead, "Now there is what I hoped we would find."
Julie looked at the flowers in her arm, then down to where Henry was pointing. The hundreds of tiny white blossoms on the Yarrow was pretty alright. But those on the tall green stalks were utterly fantastic! Instead of being flat on top like the Yarrow these tiny flowers were in round clusters. Each white ball was white as snow on the outside with a delicate pink showing through.
"Oh they are beautiful!" Julie exclaimed.
Henry smiled. "Just wait until we are through with them!"
"What?"
"Let's go back and pick up the cans. We have enough."
They picked up the cans, then Henry led the way to the shop. Unlocked the door and both of them stepped inside. They laid everything on the workbench, and Henry turned on the light.
"While you paint the cans I will go get a bucket of water," Julie volunteered. "Give them plenty of water and they will stay pretty for several days."
"We won't put them in water."
"What?"
"No water -- but we will fix them so they will stay pretty for a long time."
"If we don't put them in water the blossoms will whither and falloff in a short time," Julie said stubbornly.
Henry grinned, "Let me remind you sweetheart -- that you are talking to an old artist. Have you ewer seen any of the flowers that I have painted?"
"I have seen a lot of pictures you have painted. There must of been flowers in some of them."
"I didn't mean pictures of flowers -- I meant painted flowers."
"I don't understand..."
"Have a little patience and I will show you."
Henry had been busy lining up the cans in a row on the work bench. He opened a cupboard door and exposed about a dozen cans of pint sized spray paint cans. The caps indicating the colors were of most every color of a rainbow.
Henry selected two and handed one to Julie. "Give it a good shaking," he told her. "Do like this and make that steel ball rattle around inside."
The cans were the first thing on the menu. In a few minutes time they were all the same color, a soft light green.
"This is quick drying enamel," Henry explained. "When this sets a bit I will paint you some flowers!"
He took a rubber glove from a drawer and slipped it on his left hand. Evidently it had been used for this purpose before. It was a glove of many colors.
He selected another paint can and gave it a vigorous shaking. The steel ball rattled around inside. "This one is white," he told Julie. "It will stiffen the stems and cover those tiny white flowers and keep them from withering and falling off."
He sat the can down, selected a couple more and handed them to Julie. "Here. Shake the hell out of them, and if a cap comes off put it back on." He took two more from the shelf and gave them a good shaking. Now everything was ready.
The Yarrow would be first. He gathered up a handful and arranged it in the gloved, left hand. The right hand did the spraying.
The backs of the flowers and the tiny stems that held them were first. Then he turned the bouquet right side up and turned the thing into a blaze of color. He selected one can of paint then another, blending the colors to suit his fancy. When finished, he sat them gently in one of the cans with the sand in the bottom.
Julie watched fascinated as each one was filled with an array of flowers like no one could imagine! "Beautiful," she murmured. "Darling, they are the most beautiful things that I have ever seen." She picked up a can and took it out into the bright sunlight which was peeking out between the clouds.
"Will they wilt?" she asked.
Henry shook his head. "The outside ones will sag down a bit. But that will only add to their beauty. Each tiny flower is completely covered with enamel," Henry grinned. "They won't shrink."
"Are they ready now?"
"They are a little bit tacky yet. They should set for a couple of hours."
Julie set the can of painted flowers back on the bench. Looked at them for a moment then back to the rugged face of her husband.
Here is a man, she thought, that is kind and good. A man that creates things that are beautiful! A man that can take the gentle breeze and turn it into a giant stream of energy. Also, it didn't seem to bother him at all to help wipe the wicked of the face of the earth.
She felt proud.
-- End Of Chapter Thirty-Four --
Copyright © 2008 by J.J. Dewey, All Rights Reserved