Chapter Twelve – Carter

An hour after he started work, Carter stood up and surveyed his progress. Slow. Unsatisfactorily slow. It was becoming clear this was more than a one-man job. Unless that man had power tools, and power tools meant power.

Which meant he had to call someone. He had no phone. He would have to go and find Caroline and ask to borrow her phone. He stood, hands on hips, trying to decide whether to do it now, or leave it until tomorrow. Was he putting it off because it meant talking to people, telling them Carter Eden was back?

He was cursed by having a name that was unique: his calls were always met with—the Carter Eden? All hopes that he might have been forgotten were dashed after the conversation with Will. Carter had been surprised Will and his mate were still big fans, despite him not making a movie for years.

“You OK there, son?” a voice asked from behind him.

Carter jumped. He had slipped back into his mountain mode where it was just him in the wilderness. Turning, he saw an elderly man at the gates. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Big job you’ve taken on there,” the old man continued. “Pity it was let go.”

“Yes. The owner needs his head examining for not keeping it maintained,” Carter said.

“I agree. Used to be a beautiful house, well-kept gardens… used to take me a day just to mow all the lawns,” he said wistfully.

“You used to be the groundskeeper?” Carter asked, suddenly interested.

“I did, for the old owners, and the owners before that. Then the house was sold, and I was no longer needed.” He sighed. “Makes me sad.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carter said, knowing he should own up to being the one who had cost him his job.

“Not so much call for men like me these days. So I’m going to the center to retrain.” He gave a short laugh. “I’m nearly sixty-years-old. What am I going to retrain as?” He shook his head. “Still, better than sitting on my ass.”

The old guy went to walk away. “Wait,” Carter said. “Do you think you could help me get this place back to how it was?”

“Ah, I don’t know if it will ever be as it was. The hedges have grown too woody to be trimmed into shape.” He came close to the gates again. “But I reckon we could make something new. I always thought the place was a little too formal.”

Carter went to the gate and opened it up. “Come in. Let’s walk the grounds and see what you think.”

“It’s gonna take a fair chunk of money,” the old guy warned.

“I have money,” Carter said, and thrust his hand out. “It’s dirty, sorry.” He moved to wipe it on his pants, but the old guy took it.

“Nothing wrong with dirt. Dirt is honest,” he said.

“And I need to be honest,” Carter announced. “I’m Carter Eden. I’m the man who took your job away.”

“I knew as soon as I saw you, but good of you to own up,” the old man said. “I saw that movie you were in. Space Monkeys, watched it with my grandson.”

“Really?” Carter asked.

“Yes. Biggest pile of horse shit I ever saw, in my opinion. But my grandson liked it. Hey, can I have your autograph? For my grandson, of course,” the old man said.

“Sure,” Carter said.

“Oh, no pen or paper. Next time. Or a selfie, if you would be so kind.”

“A selfie,” Carter said, surprised, as the old man pulled out his smart phone.

Here we go again, his bear said.

“Sure,” Carter agreed. “Although I don’t think anyone will believe you, not with this beard.”

“He’ll believe me, I’m his grandpa. Name’s Walt, by the way.”

“Good to meet you, Walt,” Carter said, and smiled at the phone, his head next to his new gardener’s.

“OK, thanks,” Walt said. “Now let’s go look around this place. See what we can salvage.”

***

A couple of hours later, the damage was assessed, accompanied by a lot of muttering from Walt, which left Carter feeling more guilty than before. It was clear the old man loved this place, and some of the plants and shrubs that had been lost were like his old friends. Trees he had planted twenty years ago and now stood tall and proud, cheered him up, but Carter felt the sadness rippling off the man.

“Want a beer?” Carter asked when they returned to the house. He had brought a couple with him to share with Caroline after work. They were his last two, but he was sure she wouldn’t mind, and he planned to make some more as soon as he could get the equipment he needed together.

“Bit early in the day for me.” Walt looked at the sky. “But it’s past noon, so I guess I can make an exception.”

“Here, I apologize if it’s a bit warm.” Carter opened the bottles and handed one to Walt. “Here’s to you, Walt.”

“Ah, I’m nothing special,” Walt admitted.

“You have taught me more about this place, and the things that grow in it, in the last couple of hours, than I could ever have hoped to learn my whole life,” Carter said.

“Well, learning is one thing. Doing the work is another,” Walt said.

“I have all the time you need,” Carter said. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“You aren’t too fancy to get your hands dirty. I like that,” Walt said.

“Thank you, Walt. I want you to know I am not the same man I was before I went up that mountain. So if you work for me, it’ll be a job for life.”

Walt laughed. “You’re only saying that because I’m so old.”

“No, I mean it,” Carter said.

“And I was joking,” Walt said. He took a drink of his beer. “I have a lot of life still in me… Goodness, this stuff is good.”

“It’s the last of it,” Carter informed Walt. “For now, at least.”

Walt looked at the bottle. “You made it yourself?”

“Can you tell?” Carter asked.

“No label. Except for that, it’s different. The honey is just perfect for an old bear,” Walt said with a grin.

“It’s taken me years to perfect. You don’t want to know what some of the first batches tasted like. And even after the honey was added, it needed something more.” Carter took a drink. “My own secret blend of spices.”

“Well, I would tell a man who could make beer like that to quit yacking, and set up his own brewery,” Walt said.

Carter nearly choked on his beer. “A brewery?”

“Why not? I have some bees, I could bring you the honey. Hops you could order in. Your secret ingredient… Well, I’ll leave that up to you.”

“Will Frasier is already going to grow me some hops,” Carter said.

“There you go, then, start small and scale up. You have the money, you said you had the time. Make something of your own.”

“I’ve never done that before,” Carter confessed.

“Done what before?” Caroline asked, walking around the side of the house and finding them sitting in the shade drinking beer. “I see you have found a friend. Hi, Walt.”

“Hello, Caroline. You caught me,” he said, drinking the last of his beer and getting up. “I’m sorry, I got caught up talking to Carter. I’m on my way over to help you out right now.”

“Oh, if you have been talking sense into Carter, then you have been helping me out already,” Caroline told the old man.

“We’ve been making plans,” Carter said.

“Plans?” She looked out across the overgrown yard and the land behind it. “That sounds great. This place is worse than I thought.”

“Ah, we can soon have it shipshape,” Walt said. “I’ll be over tomorrow, Carter. You get what we need and we can get started.”

Caroline watched the old man leave before she asked, “What have you been planning?” She sat down next to Carter and passed him a sandwich and a cupcake. “I thought you might need feeding.”

“I do.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Thank you.”

“For lunch?” she asked.

“No, for coming and getting me.”

She stroked his hair. “You look happy.”

“I am.” He nodded and ate his sandwich, not really tasting it as his mind explored possibilities.

“Are you going to tell me your grand plan?” she asked.

“Bear Creek Honey Beer,” he said boldly.

“I like it,” she told him at once.

“You do?”

“Yes. That beer of yours should not be kept a secret.”

“Are you teasing me?” he asked.

“No. I mean it.” She paused and then added, “But this means you won’t be able to hide away. You know that?”

“I do. And I’m OK with it.” Carter ate his sandwich in silence, mulling over what needed to be done. Regulations. There were bound to be lots of them. Which meant he was going to have to give up his dreams of no cell phone, and living a quiet life. But this meant a lot to him.

“Hey,” Caroline said. “If you need Captain Bossy to lend a hand, I’m here for you.”

“Captain Bossy, is that your new name?”

“It might as well be,” she replied. “Because I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure this is a success for you, Carter.”

“For us,” he corrected.

“For us.” The smile on her face was enough to tell him this was the right thing to do. He was going to build something that he could be proud of, something that his children might one day inherit. Something more than a movie about space monkeys.