The Crossroads

Zack and his father didn’t speak during the twenty-minute drive to Home Depot. They didn’t speak while they pushed the rumbling orange cart around the cavernous warehouse or when they loaded it up with plywood sheets, two-by-fours, two-by-twelves, and one twenty-foot-square blue vinyl tarp.

Finally, when the lumber was tied down to the luggage rack on top of their car, Zack broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“I’m sorry, too. We should have come out here last weekend.”

“I guess.”

“Well, tomorrow I’m staying home from work.”

“Really?” Zack tried to sound excited.

“I think they owe me the day, don’t you? I mean, I have to leave at night and spend all day Tuesday on an airplane.”

“Yeah.”

“I could help you guys hammer in a few nails.”

“I hope you’re not mad at Davy. None of this was his fault.”

“I don’t blame Davy. He seems like a good kid.”

“He’s awesome. We were even thinking about having a campout.”

“Really? Up in your pirate ship?”

“Yeah.” Zack hung his head. “But I guess I’m kind of grounded….”

“Well, I think you’ve learned your lesson. So do you guys need supplies for this campout?”

“Really? Do you think we could buy a kerosene lantern?”

“Wouldn’t propane be better?”

“Kerosene is more like what a pirate would have. With the wick and all. More old-fashionedy.”

“I see. Okay. Let’s go back inside and see if they have a lantern.”

“How about one of those fuel cans?”

“Good idea.” His father smiled. “You know, I had a kerosene lantern when I was your age.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And you’re right. It does look more like what a pirate would have.”

An hour later, they returned home with the building supplies, a lantern, and a red plastic canister filled with two and a half gallons of kerosene.

Now Zack and Davy had everything they needed.