Never Again – 21

 

Joseph arrived at Beth's to find most of the BEN people were already there. Everyone greeted him like a long lost brother and soon he was hearing everything about how the website and the company were doing now that he was no longer involved. He had to admit it gave his ego a bit of a boost to know he was missed. Still he didn't in the least regret having turned everything over to Beth and Brian.

Beth cornered him at one point, looking him over with an appraising eye.

"You've lost weight and you're tan," she commented.

"I've been working my ass off for Rebuild NOLA."

"You, doing physical labor?" She looked at him aghast then ducked away, laughing when he tried to swat her behind.

"Yes, my dear niece, I am actually doing something other than sitting on my butt. And I'm loving it."

"So, who is he?" she asked, giving him her best innocent stare.

"There is no 'he'. Remember when you told me to find something I cared about? To find a wrong and try to help right it? I have and in my own small way, that's what I'm doing." He went on to tell her exactly what it was. By the time he finished he found he had an audience.

Most of them remembered Jennifer's feature story on the homeless from earlier in the year and so knew what questions to ask about how they could help. Joseph answered as best he could, making suggestions based primarily on what he'd learned from talking to the men who worked for Rebuild NOLA.

"Mr. Gilbert's done a great job building it into a worthwhile organization from what I've heard," Brian commented a few minutes later when most of the others had drifted away again.

"Indeed he has," Joseph agreed.

"I'm not surprised, considering his background."

Joseph arched an eyebrow in question. "You know his background? All I've been able to find out is that he was in the army and after he finished his tour of duty, he didn't re-up. Fairly soon after that he started Rebuild."

"Nine months after. Before that, he was homeless."

"Okay, how do you know that?" Joseph asked in surprise. "It certainly isn't in any of the information I've found on him—or in the information about Rebuild."

"Remember the story we did on people dumping animals and just about anything else they wanted to dispose of, in the Lower Ninth? I met him there. He'd been living in one of the abandoned houses, the same kind he's refurbishing now. He wasn't willing to be interviewed but we did talk some. Apparently when he left the army, he wasn't able to keep a job, when he was able to even find one, because, well as he put it he has anger control issues."

"PTSD?"

"He denied it when I asked. He said he's always been short tempered and for all I know, that's the truth. Anyway, since—and I quote loosely—'he had nothing better to do with his time', he began helping with the cleanup. I suspect it was just a short step from getting rid of the jungle of weeds and everything they covered to his deciding something had to be done about the houses themselves."

Joseph nodded. "He must be quite the salesman, though you couldn't prove it by me," he said with a slight laugh.

"Meaning getting the funding to start Rebuild?"

"Funding, permissions, everything it entails, because he did get it all and in a very short span of time, according to the files he lent me, which by the way are very dry reading."

"Those kinds of things usually are. And there you have it, what little I know about him."

"That's more than I did and I've been working with him for a few weeks now. Okay, not with him at this point. Hell, after the first couple of days, I've barely seen him," Joseph said ruefully.

"But you'd like to," Beth put in.

Joseph shrugged. "It could be interesting to find out more about what makes him tick. As I told him when I tried prying a bit, it's the reporter gene in me. He did not take kindly to that."

"Doesn't surprise me in the least," Brian said. "He only talked with me that one time. When I tried to buttonhole him again, he closed down like a steel trap."

"Guys," one of the men hollered at that point, "if you want anything to eat, you'd better get over here. The hungry hordes are descending like ravenous wolves."

Brian snorted. "You can tell he's a reporter just from the descriptions." Putting an arm around Beth's waist, he walked with her toward the table laden with food.

Joseph followed, but his mind was more on what he'd learned about Cal than on barbequed ribs and potato salad.

Never Again – 20

 

Over the next few weeks Joseph became an integral part of the Rebuild NOLA, working with several of the other men on the team, most of whom had been homeless before Cal had hired them. He now knew more than he ever thought possible about how to rebuild hurricane and flood damaged houses, from the initial health issues involved in cleaning them so they would be habitable, to the final painting before they were to be refurnished and given over to their new owners.

During all that time, he rarely saw Cal other than just before leaving whichever site he was at. Cal would show up, check everything, and give the men, including Joseph, their next assignments if the current job was finished.

One evening just before Labor Day, after Cal had come and gone, Joseph asked Terry, one of the men he'd become friendly with, "Is he usually like this?"

"No. I've never seen him so uptight, except once right after I met him. He's usually the kind of guy who'll pop for a six-pack then sit and drink it with us."

"Really?" Joseph replied in surprise.

"Yeah. Guess something's going on with him again, not that he'll talk about it. He never says anything about his personal life. Sometimes I wonder if he even has one."

Joseph wondered as well, but refrained from commenting. After all, he was hardly one to talk when it came down to it. Since the first day he's started working for the team, he had gone straight home to eat and then collapsed into bed. He hadn't even gone for a run.

* * * *

Labor Day morning dawned hot and sunny with not a cloud in the sky. Cal had given everyone the day off, which left Joseph at loose ends as far as he was concerned. Beth and Brian had invited him for their annual barbeque, but that wouldn't start until early afternoon.

I might as well take advantage of the time off and head out to the Bayou, he thought while he threw together an omelet for breakfast. If I don't, Beth will call me snappish, and I probably would be. It has been a while since I've shifted.

It occurred to him the only reason he hadn't been uptight in the last few days was the fact he'd managed to work off any excess energy on the job. Guess there's a lot to be said for hard physical labor.

The thought was reinforced half an hour later as he looked at himself in the bedroom mirror while dressing. It wasn't that he was ever overweight. Given his genetics, it was impossible. But now he was as lean and muscular as he'd been when he was just a youth and new to his shifting abilities. My face however… he studied it, seeing faint wrinkles around his eyes and creases in his forehead. Nothing remarkable and they'd vanish as soon as he shifted back after his run. Not that anyone will notice, I'm sure, expect perhaps Beth if she was to see me right now. Just like Elizabeth, she knows what to look for.

He finished getting dressed then took off. As he headed toward Bayou Sauvage, he began to realize today might not be the best one for running. The traffic was heavy, going in the same direction, which meant families and tourists were planning on making a day of it sightseeing there. So, staying on Route Ten, he continued on to Morgan Bluff, where he parked beside the river then crossed to the bayou side. Once he was deep into it, he shed his clothes and shifted.

Exhilaration flooded him as he raced, splashing through the water, adroitly evading two alligators who were sunning on a fallen tree a few yards away. He darted between cypress trees, and even raced along a half-destroyed wooden path built for tourists and long abandoned. Finally he dropped down along the edge of the water, batting playfully at some fish as they swam lazily past him.

Then realizing it was close to noon, he returned to where he'd begun, shifted, dressed, and headed back to the city.

 

 

Never Again – 19

 

"You're late," Cal grumbled, after Joseph parked his car in front of the house they were working on and came to join him.

"So shoot me. I got tied up in traffic."

Cal actually grinned, barely. "Maybe once we're finished here."

"Something to look forward to."

"Getting shot? Or finishing?"

Joseph chuckled. "Finishing. I'd rather pass on getting shot. It hurts like hell."

"No shit." Cal was back to scowling when he turned on his heel, walking swiftly around the house toward the back.

Oh boy. Guess I hit a nerve on that one. 

Since, according to what Cal had said last evening, they were finished with the clean-up, Joseph only grabbed work gloves and a cap when he followed Cal.

"So what's on the agenda for today?"

Cal pointed to a large stack of Sheetrock leaning against the back of the house. "You ever put this stuff up?"

"Nope, but I'm a fast learner."

"Let's hope. We'll start with the living room." Cal grabbed one side of the top piece, waited for Joseph to get the other side and they set to work.

* * * *

By the end of the morning Joseph knew more about installing drywall than he ever wanted to. Cal was a good teacher, which impressed Joseph, only barking at him a couple of times when he was still trying to get the hang of taping.

"Lunch?" Joseph asked when he stepped back to admire their handiwork in the now-finished living room.

"Yeah. Same place as yesterday, unless you got somewhere else you'd like to go."

"Nope. Your car or mine?"

"Yours, since you designated 'car'," Cal replied with a grin. When they got outside, he stripped off his coveralls, tossing them and his gloves on the pile of Sheetrock.

Joseph followed suit and his gaze locked on Cal for a moment. Once again the man was wearing something that accented his hard, muscular body. This time it was a tank and shorts. Joseph felt a flash of lust, which vanished as quickly as it had flared up. Don't go there. He's not up for grabs—wouldn't be even if he wasn't straight. Besides, I'm not looking.

Thus he was surprised when Cal commented casually, "For a rich boy, you take care of yourself."

Sure, he was wearing a tank and shorts as well, but somehow he didn't think he came close to measuring up to Cal physically, despite the fact he was a shifter. So he shrugged, replying, "I try to keep in shape when I get the chance."

"You're getting it now." Cal chuckled, as he started toward the street. "Come on, rich boy. Let's go eat."

* * * *

"Now you get to see I can handle them," Cal said, ordering two hot sausage po'boys.

Joseph laughed, ordering one, too, and a beer. "I never really doubted it."

"Sure you didn't." Cal leaned back, studying Joseph much the way he had when they'd first met. "I still don't get it. Why are you willing to put yourself through this?"

"The work? Like I told you, I want to do more than…" Joseph paused, digging into his pocket for the envelope with the check, which he handed to Cal.

Cal opened it, his eyes widening when he saw the amount of the check. "Holy hell," he whispered, looking at Joseph. "What did you do, sell the family jewels?"

Joseph snorted in amusement. "Nope. I like them right where they are."

It took Cal a moment to get it then he laughed. "Yeah, I suppose you do. Thanks for this." He held up the check. "It'll go a long way toward making some people's dreams of a new life come true."

"That's the idea."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Cal, I'm sure. Believe me, I don't do things unless I want to." He smiled when Cal carefully put the check in his wallet, still looking a bit shocked.

"Can I ask, umm, did owning the news site really make you that much money? Okay, forget it. It's none of my business."

"That's okay. It didn't by itself. I inherited a sizable fortune and put some of it to work, which earned me more. I guess you could call me a one-percenter, although I do pay my taxes, all of them, without resorting to shenanigans."

"The government must love you for that."

"They don't complain," Joseph agreed with a laugh.

Their food arrived at that point and this time, unlike yesterday, they talked as they ate, discussing what came next once they finished with the house they were working on at the moment. Cal seemed surprised that Joseph intended to continue helping out but accepted it, telling him about two more houses that were in the process of being cleaned up.

"How did you get into this in the first place?" Joseph asked at one point, since none of the information he'd read had told him. "And more to the point, why?"

"The 'why' is easy, for the same reason you're here—to help people. The 'how' is a bit more complicated. I decided not to re-up when my tour of duty was over. They sent me back here, processed me at the base then let me go with my discharge papers in hand. The problem was, I really had no place to go that was mine." Cal stopped, looking at Joseph. "Why am I telling you all this?"

"Because I asked?" Joseph replied with a smile.

"Yeah, well it's not something I talk about," he growled.

"If it makes you nervous, then don't. I was just interested."

"Why?" Cal's expression was tight and distrustful now.

Joseph chuckled, hoping to defuse the situation, which seemed to be getting worse by the moment, at least on Cal's side. "My newspaper gene kicking in I guess."

"Well kick it out." Cal took the last bite of his po'boy, washed it down with a swallow of beer and stood, tossing some money on the table. "Time to get back to work."

The drive back to the site was filled with silence, Cal staring out the passenger window the whole way. From what little Joseph could see of his face, he was not a happy man by a long shot. It wasn't until they were back in their coveralls and ready to start on the next room that Cal finally said, tersely, "Sorry."

"No problem. We all have things we'd rather keep to ourselves."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

Never Again – 18

 

"Hot sausage? You sure you can stomach it, rich boy?"

"Yeah, can you?"

"You bet, but today I'm in the mood for a catfish po'boy, with a side of sweet potato fries."

"Uh huh." Joseph grinned knowingly when he watched the waitress walk away after taking their orders.

Cal scowled at him. "You calling me a liar?"

"Now why would I do that? I don't know you well enough to say one way or the other."

"Ain't going to, either," Cal muttered, taking a long pull on his beer before setting the bottle down again.

Joseph was very tempted to reply 'Thank God'. He resisted only because he didn't really want to make an enemy of the man sitting across from him. Last night he had read all the information in the thick folder Cal had given him and came away impressed with Rebuild NOLA and its aims. From what he could tell, Cal was the mainstay behind the organization, putting all his time and energy into it, taking only enough out to pay for his cheap apartment and the essentials he needed to live on.

There was almost nothing in the files about the man himself. Jennifer had been correct when she'd said he was very reclusive, as Joseph discovered when he did his own Internet search on Cal Gilbert. All he'd learned was he had been born up north, joined the Army when he was eighteen, and had served primarily in Iraq until two years ago. As far as he could tell, Cal had left with an honorable discharge when he was twenty-six, which would make him twenty-eight now. He looks older, but maybe being in the military did that. Although… Joseph shook his head sadly. The last time I was really aware of soldiers they were all so young.

"Something wrong," Cal asked, bringing Joseph back to the present.

"No. Just a fleeting thought."

Cal cocked an eyebrow but didn't pry, which was just as well. Joseph wasn't willing to elucidate on where his thoughts had gone.

Their food arrived then and they ate in silence. Afterward, they returned to the house.

By the time evening arrived, Joseph was more than willing to call it a day. On the other hand, when Cal hinted as they returned to Rebuild NOLA he didn't need to come back the next day, Joseph made it quite clear he intended to see the job through to completion. Cal seemed surprised, so Joseph added, "I may be a 'rich boy', as you insist on calling me, but I don't quit in the middle of something, no matter what."

Cal nodded. "Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Definitely."

* * * *

"I feel like something the cat dragged in after I'd run a marathon," Joseph told the koi as he ate his supper by their pond in the backyard. "But damned if I'm going to walk away. Cal's doing a good thing and I want to be a part of it, not just financially but physically."

He had already written out a sizable check to help fund Rebuild NOLA, which he would give Cal tomorrow. And hope he doesn't sneer at it or me. 'Rich boy' might be true but I earned it fair and square, even if it did take a century and a half, more or less.

Leaning back on his hands, he stared up at the star-filled sky above him. I suppose I should count myself one of the lucky ones. I've been able to make a positive difference in the world, albeit a small one. I've had love, true love, which comes rarely to a person, I think. I live well. I'm content, as much as anyone can be. I have friends, a few of them, and family. Compared to what I've seen in the last few days, or perhaps more to the point, what I've finally become aware of because it's always been there, yeah, I'm damned lucky.

For a brief moment his emotions spiraled downward. If I only had someone to share it with. Then he shook his head sharply. I chose my life after Rawleigh died. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it. "Alone," he said aloud and chuckled softly. "That would be me, the Lonesome Cowboy, although I'm no cowboy and in truth I rarely feel lonesome any more. I guess after all this time I'm used to it. Besides which—" he grinned as he gathered up his dishes and headed back inside, "—being alone means I can leave these until morning and no one will carp at me."

He didn't actually. Being a creature of habit, he washed the dishes, set them in the rack to dry, and then, exhausted, went up to bed. As he fell asleep, he wondered what tortures in the way of work Cal would inflict on him in the morning.

Never Again – 17

 

Joseph tried not to laugh at the look on Cal's face the next morning. He'd arrived on time, and dressed to work, both of which quite obviously surprised the man. "Did you expect me to show up in designer coveralls instead of used ones?" he asked.

Cal barely nodded. "Truth? Yeah, I think I did. You ready?"

"I'm here and not just to stand around. Are we taking both cars?"

"Mine's a truck and you can follow me. That way when you're ready to fall on your face, I won't have to drive you back here."

"You don't think much of my dedication, do you, Cal?"

Cal turned to look at him, eyeing him from head to toe. "Well, you dressed the part but time will tell if it's all for show." He walked to a large, well-used 4x4 parked in the drive next to the house. "We're going about a mile from here, so keep up."

"Ass," Joseph muttered under his breath as he got into his car.

* * * *

"Is it safe to presume the house has been cleared of any toxic materials?" Joseph asked when he donned the gloves and cap Cal handed him. He was already wearing the disposable suit with its elasticized cuffs Cal had given him to put on over his own clothes. "And where is everyone else?"

Cal smiled a trifle maliciously. "We're 'everyone'. The house has been gutted and decontaminated, the old furniture's been removed, and now we're to the point of doing one last surface cleaning prior to putting up new Sheetrock. I figure between the two of us we should be able to do it, which frees up the rest of my crew to start on the next place."

Joseph nodded. "Does Rebuild NOLA own these properties?"

"Yep." Cal handed him a stiff-bristled broom. "Start in there"—he thumbed toward one of the rooms—"work from the ceiling down to get rid of all the residual bits of insulation, drywall, and mold. If you find any nails still in the framing pull them out or bend them in. And for God's sake, go get a damned respirator."

It took Joseph a moment to find one in the safety area outside the house. Returning, he started to work. By the time two hours went by, his arms ached, he was covered with dust and dirt, and was sweating profusely. He took a quick glance into the next room where Cal was working and vowed if the man could keep on with what he was doing then he for damned sure wasn't going to quit either.

Noon had passed and then some when Cal finally came in to inspect what Joseph had managed to complete. Leaning against the doorjamb, he slowly scanned the area. Finally, grudgingly Joseph thought from his tone of voice, Cal lifted his respirator to say, "I'm impressed. Let's take a break."

Joseph smiled slightly, setting his tools down in one corner of the smaller room he'd moved to once he'd finished the larger one. "Sounds good to me. I'll admit I'm starving. Besides which"—he rubbed one shoulder—"I think I've found muscles I didn't even know I had." The latter statement was pretty much an act. Yes, he ached, but being what he was, it wasn't nearly as bad as he was pretending.

"Come on then. I'll even buy your lunch, rich boy," Cal told him with what almost passed as a grin.

"Boy?" Joseph shook his head as he followed Cal to the cleanup area. Stripping off the suit, he tossed it in the covered bin Cal pointed to. The gloves and shoe covers went on a low table next to a row of hooks, one of which held the coveralls he'd arrived in. "You could have warned me all I needed was a pair of shorts and a tank," he grumbled, wishing he'd worn them under his coveralls, not jeans and a tee.

"Now where would the fun have been in that? Besides, you're supposed to be smart enough to know what the heat is like at this time of year. Now wash up thoroughly and let's get moving."