1. Alone in Montana #2
Toward the end of Gus’s first shift, Dan inspected his son’s technique as he wiped down the set of finished chairs.
Polish stains coated every inch of Gus’s painting shirt and overalls.
However, as Gus took a step back to let his father appraise his work, Dan nodded his silent approval once again, even offering a rare grin of pride.
Gus perked up with satisfaction. Both shoulder to shoulder, Dan nudged Gus with his elbow.
“Good job, kid.”
The shop’s windows were now dark and starry after the long day.
Never one to waste time, Dan handed his son a broom to collect and discard all the wood shavings piled around them.
He left Gus alone to clean up as he headed back to the cabin.
When the door closed, Gus groaned in the dark silence and started sweeping.
Once inside the cabin, Gus collapsed onto his bed.
He was sweaty and covered in sawdust. His body ached.
But before getting back up to shower, his eyes drifted to the wooden trunk beside him again.
An object was tucked behind it. Intrigued, Gus reached over and pulled out a small framed painting of a bitterroot, Montana’s state flower.
His chest tightened. It was one of his mom’s favorite pieces from long ago. One of his favorites.
This one too? Why’d he take it down?
Annoyance flickered through Gus, but he pushed it aside.
He was too tired. Standing up, he walked to his wall and hung the artwork carefully on an empty nail and stepped back to enjoy it.
The pretty pinkish-purple wildflower was tiny, but somehow it could grow strong within all the dry, rocky soil around it.
Gus softened. His mother’s bitterroot flower looked perfect on his wall.
Gus’s first week went the same as his first day.
Breakfast, woodwork, lunch, woodwork, dinner, bed.
Only the type of furniture or decorative carpentry piece they created changed as his father received orders from neighbors or people from more distant towns.
A couple from Missoula requested small maple bedside tables.
A woman from Helena ordered matching walnut boxes for her husband’s anniversary gift.
Dan was well-known in Montana for his quality furniture.
Gus enjoyed witnessing his father’s passion in action however non-conversational the man remained.
Gus liked the work itself. It passed the time, and he loved finding artistry in whatever way he could find it.
Still, Gus felt more like Dan’s employee than his own son. By his first weekend, he itched to see another face. To try something new.
~
Dan’s fork eased through his cheesy omelet as he finished pouring his morning brew.
He took a slow satisfying bite of his eggs alone at the dining table.
Gus walked through the kitchen, passing his father, and moved along to the front door.
He didn’t sit down for breakfast. Dan regarded his son suspiciously.
“Where are you going?” Dan asked, leaning to the left to view his son, crouched in the doorway lacing his Nike Blazer high-tops.
Gus took a deep breath before standing up to ask his dad a request. “It’s my first day off. I thought I could explore more of Livingston.” Gus looked over. “Can I borrow the car?”
Dan paused. He never really took days off. Why bother? There was so much to do. However, he doubted that reasoning would work on an eighteen-year-old.
“Humpfrh,” Dan grumbled in return, tossing Gus his keys.
Gus smiled, clearly eager but anxious to go see the town on his own.
“Don’t wreck it. Tomorrow we’re back in the shop, bright an’ early,” Dan reminded.
Gus beamed back. “Yes, sir!”
Gus sped through the door and bounded outside.
Dan exhaled a deep long breath as he watched his son race toward the car. Alone at the table, he took a bite of his hash browns and continued eating his breakfast in silence.
Gus twisted the car key to ignite the engine, shifted his father’s Chevy into first gear, and sped out of their gravel driveway. As he coasted down the rural roads to Livingston amid wide pastures, tall mountains, and bright skies, Gus found that he was feeling grand.
The glaring sun around a bend soon forced Gus to pull out his sunglasses, cheap but stylish things his mother gave him a few years back.
Gus caught his reflection in the rearview mirror.
Memories flashed of riding in his mom’s dinged-up minivan, recapping his school days and joyously singing along with her to NSYNC and Nelly Furtado.
He smiled, soaking up the past. Gus then remembered his grandfather had just sold that minivan to cover funeral costs.
His chin fell. He pulled the shades off.
He tried reminding himself that she would have wanted this.
She’d have wanted him to explore. Maybe the old shops she took him to in town were still around.
Maybe he’d spot the same critters she used to paint during their lazy picnics in the park.
He knew this venture into the city wouldn’t feel the same alone, but Gus promised himself he’d find the perfect spot to sketch in her honor today.
He felt the urge to draw something again after a week away from his sketchbook. He needed it.
Gus boosted the radio louder, trying to psych himself back up.
Outside his windows, a few unfamiliar sights passed by: construction workers, chain restaurants, empty parking lots.
Soon he found a spot to park and set to walking, passing rotting tree trunks and condo development signs.
Strolling through the center of town carrying his sketchbook and canvas backpack, so many forgotten childhood moments rushed back into his mind.
Gus decided to window-shop the same stores where he and his mom pretended they could buy toys or artwork, but when he peered into his favorite old-timey candy shop, he found it empty.
Out of business. Gus spun a slow circle. The entire street was desolate.
Looking for lunch, Gus was at least relieved to see that Mark’s In & Out, the drive-in diner his dad had always loved, still had their footlong chili dogs on the menu. He also ordered a strawberry ice cream cone, his mom’s favorite.
Eventually, Gus hiked up to Sacajawea Park and found a familiar bench where he’d often sat with his parents.
It had a serene view of the park that relaxed him.
He remembered the scenery like he’d seen it just yesterday.
As quiet hours passed in that one spot, Gus drew busy passersby, the Yellowstone bridge, and the calm lake surrounded by cottonwood trees.
His favorite part of his forming landscape was the two adult geese and their five goslings floating near the pebbled shore right before him.
When he finished the final feathers of the little bird family swimming in peace, he finally felt welcomed back to his version of Montana.