Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH (08/31/17)
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TITLE: Bringing Quality To Birth | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
09/01/17 -
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Another hand stroked a protruding belly. “Agony.”
The ten inch diameter chunk of black Kenyan treasure, six feet in length, would have made a good boat anchor on any other day. Today, the master dreamed a new dream for the wood.
It was too heavy to move alone so the dreamer pushed and shoved and nestled the find under a shredded tarp twisted into the warp of a long forgotten hay baler. The perspiration from the August sun dripped off the carpenter’s brow and sizzled on a section of discarded steel.
The old barn which had sheltered this untouched chunk for generations had been blessed with the kiss of death by the hurricane. The floods followed caking everything with thick goo.
In the slow sorting of scattered boards, antiques and rusty tools the ebony was discovered. Fortunately, no one else was around to notice. It had been like finding a diamond heirloom along a sandy beach.
The story of the treasure was known from childhood. A missionary grandfather had somehow brought the ebony across the oceans but never turned his plans for it into reality. A customs agent had accused him of smuggling ivory but upon opening the heavy crate had scoffed at the useless “hunk of African tree.”
The carpenter knew the find was priceless. No tablesaw for this king of hardwoods and its interlocking grain – handtools alone, worked slowly and lovingly, would tease out the matchless beauty.
Two months passed before a neighbor was trusted to help haul the treasure to a shop set up behind the house. The tools had been sharpened and readied. The dreams had been fine tuned to not waste an inch of the ebony.
“Sure you know what you’re doing? Maybe you should be taking it easy.”
“I’ve got a dream and it isn’t going to happen if I’m sitting around taking it easy.”
The abdominal discomfort was growing and time was diminishing. The dream took on a new urgency with sanding, planning, and clear cutting with a hand saw. The hardwood was brittle and the shaping turned daylight hours into dusk and even darkness before rest settled the weariness.
The phone calls from an old friend interrupted the loneliness. “You’re alone. One quick procedure and you could be free to get back to life again.”
“I’m trusting Jesus. He was a carpenter too. There’s a plan in this somewhere.”
Doctor’s visits began to take up more time and several times the carpenter pondered whether to substitute an oak or walnut slab to speed up the process for the project. There was no legacy in giving up a dream.
Piece by piece, the component sections were fitted tightly together. Drill bits wore out with patience as the resistant wood took its time to conform. Six months passed and the frame took shape. Sanding seemed endless. Gasping and resting was more and more common.
Four pieces of 1x3 ebony 30 inches long took shape; 2 pieces of 1x4 30 inches long; 10 pieces of 1x2 30 inches long. Other pieces 1x3 and 1x4 53 ½ inches. 10 pieces of 1x2 24 inches long; 6 pieces of 2x3 24 inches long. Piece after piece after piece wearing away the saw blades and drill bits.
Eight months passed since the ebony revealed its hiding place. Everything about it had changed. The carpenter looked at the red circle on the calendar and wondered if the strength inside would last that long. The assembly began in earnest.
The red circle was still two weeks away when the abdominal pain left the carpenter curled on the floor in agony. A phone call brought the neighbor. One last look at the project produced a smile on the way out the door.
A gurney met the incoming emergency and the carpenter fought for breath as medical personnel rushed to do their work. There were no regrets now. The work was done. The legacy was established. Anyone who saw the ebony dream would remember a missionary grandfather.
The carpenter’s sister rushed in and snuggled in for a hug.
“Was it worth it?” she asked.
“Every minute,” the carpenter replied.
The pain was intense and unrelenting. Finally it was over.
“Congratulations,” the doctor announced. “You have a girl.”
“She’ll love that ebony crib you’ve been working on for so long,” the carpenter’s sister said. “Now, maybe you can try doing something else besides woodwork.”
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The ending was a complete surprise.