Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Omnishambles (05/01/14)
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TITLE: A Hard Lesson | Previous Challenge Entry
By Steve McClure
05/07/14 -
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Keith turned away from the upper story window and hurriedly found his shoes. Dressed in his normal Saturday jeans and light pull-over, he raced downstairs and through the family room to the rear sliding-glass door. Peering through the glass, he got a better look at the newly constructed edifice on the far side of the luscious green yard. “Oh, no,” he groaned.
He slid the glass door open and rushed into the early-spring morning sunshine. Crossing the wooden deck, he descended the few steps into the grass, soggy from the overnight storm. He rapidly strode beneath the large, high tree limbs spouting fresh new foliage, and stopped in front of the two-story playhouse. The damp redwood house towered above him, nearly reaching the tree limbs. Extending far to his right was a series of swings hanging from a metal bar attached to the playhouse midsection. To his left – a long, winding slide stemming from the large “deck” adjacent to the upper story. All this was the product of several weekends and week-nights of reading and adhering to the seemingly endless assembly instructions.
And now…the playhouse was listing heavily to the right. The swing support-bar was ripping it from its mounting, and the slide-bottom dangled in mid air having pulled the anchor pegs from the ground.
Keith’s face contorted as he surveyed the scene. He noticed the ground beneath his feet seemed spongy, oozing liquid as he stepped. The bottom-right side of the playhouse disappeared about 8 inches beneath the ooze.
“You left the door open.” Darla strolled up behind him, coffee cup in hand.
“Yeah. Sorry. Guess I was in a hurry.”
Darla looked closely at the playhouse. “Is it supposed to lean like that?”
“No.”
“Can we push it upright?”
“Don’t think so…not by ourselves, anyway.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Right now, I’m praying for guidance. I just don’t know how this happened.”
“Maybe we should call Robert.”
Robert was an old friend who owned a small construction company. He arrived about an hour later wearing his normal construction boots, denims, and old baseball cap sitting atop a mop of graying hair. He gave the playhouse a quick look.
“What do you think, Robert?”
Robert shook his head without speaking. He stepped toward the sunken side of the playhouse, taking notice of the spongy ground. “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Keith mimicked.
Robert walked to his pickup in front of the house, and returned with a slender rod about 3 feet long. He sloshed to the sunken corner of the playhouse and stuck the rod into the ground. It easily sunk in about a foot. He withdrew the rod and began repeating the maneuver every 6 inches or so along the front of the playhouse. With each probe, the rod sank shallower. Toward the left side of the playhouse, the rod stopped sinking. Robert then probed behind the playhouse, and generally around the area to the right. He continued probing toward the middle of the yard, then finally stopped and stood upright.
“Well, what do you think?” Keith pleaded. “Can we fix it?”
Robert rubbed the side of his unshaven face with the palm of his weathered hand. “We could mention a few things you should have done, but that won’t help now.”
“Like what?”
“Like building this monstrosity on a more firm foundation.”
“I liked the idea of it sitting in the grass.”
“And that’s OK…if the ground is firm.”
“It was, when I was putting this together.”
“But then it rained. Rained hard.”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a natural drainage channel here. Excess rain flows toward the middle of the yard and into this channel. When it does, the ground becomes soft. And the playhouse…well, you see the result.”
“So, how do we fix it?”
“Move it.”
“Move it?! Can’t we put some boards under it or something?”
“Nope. Too heavy. And you don’t want to block this channel…unless you want to re-grade your back yard.”
Keith stood, dumbfounded. Remnant rain drops falling from tiny leaves far above splashed his arm and shoulder. He swiped at them as if they were bugs.
“Move it,” he repeated sullenly. “I supposed I’ll have to take it apart…start all over.”
“Don’t see any other way.”
Keith paused a long time. Then, “lesson learned, I guess. Let’s go get some coffee.”
The men removed their footwear in the mudroom, and entered the country kitchen. Darla was humming a hymn – “How Firm a Foundation.” She stopped….
“What are you two chuckling about?”
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