Hardscrabble Two

Hardscrabble Two

On our last trip home from San Isidro, Pecos stopped at the busy saw mill on the highway and sifted through a heap of scrap wood. The Ticos at this place seem to like him; when we arrive they all stop whatever they’re doing and follow him around, helping him pull out this board or that log. It’s clearly a macho place in which I have little interest, so I wait in the car. The selections are cut to desired size and loaded for us. Again, there is no charge for the wood or the cutting. They stand in a line as we pull out and all wave good-bye. Pecos will bring them some jerky that we’ve brought from Oregon.

Pecos has built us a standing shelf for the kitchen, a bench seat for the living room and a side table for the bedroom. I’m pleased, and spent a few hours re-arranging our meager belongings. It took him several hours and even though he had his shirt off for less than two of them and alternated between yard and porch, his very white self is burned lobster red. Luckily his collection of antiseptic creams also serve for eritema solar.

We decide to have our true championship Scrabble play-off. Pecos perches forward, unable to lean back due to the sunburn, while I relax confidently back in mine. For once I’m in a slight lead throughout. At the finish, despite being stuck with the Q since Pecos deliberately placed all four U’s in tight places, I win by four points. Clearly, a champion. I ask Pecos to admit that I am the best of the best.

Instead, he points under my chair where two tiles lay. During this all-important game I had jumped up to get a glass of water and accidently dumped half the bag of tiles on the floor. I thought I’d picked them all up. He says this game, too, cannot count for the championship as the M and the P from the floor are necessito for a fair and square play-off. No problemo, I say, adding that I can win this championship (again) when we play next. By then Senor Pecos may be able to even sit comfortably in his chair. 