A Plain Man by Mary Ellis

small cooler.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to fuss, Mamm. I’m capable of making my lunch.” Caleb gritted his teeth. Coming home had reduced a grown man to boy status.
    â€œOh, it’s no trouble because I’m already fixing your daed’ s.”
    Eli Beachy exited the bathroom dressed and ready to leave. “There you are. Jack’s van will be here in ten minutes. Glad you’ve come down.”
    â€œI’ll get my tools.” Caleb carried his mug of coffee to the mudroomwhere he’d stashed his toolbox. At least they would be traveling back and forth to Millersburg in a vehicle.
    Eli followed him to the doorway. “Jack and Bob are my Englisch carpenters. They’ll run the power equipment if our hand tools aren’t sufficient for a particular task. They’ve been on my crew for years and have adjusted to our Ordnung .” He locked gazes with Caleb.
    If he wasn’t mistaken, his father’s words were laced with challenge. “How many men on the crew?” Caleb dragged his case from under the stationary tub.
    â€œEight, counting you and me. You’ll know some of them from building barns long ago. And today you’ll meet two carpenters who live near Killbuck.” Eli shrugged into his black wool coat.
    Caleb pulled on his dark brown Carhartt jacket—the choice of outdoor American laborers everywhere.
    â€œWe’ll have to replace that Englisch coat,” Eli muttered as he marched back into the kitchen.
    â€œThe newest Beachy employee can’t leave the house without breakfast.” Elizabeth handed him a bowl of oatmeal and a spoon.
    Caleb practically had to inhale the food when Jack picked them up right on schedule. Crawling into the van’s third seat, he decided to remain low-profile on his first day. He had only a passing acquaintance with the Amish fellows. Surprisingly, they talked in Deutsch during the thirty-minute ride, even though Jack and Bob wouldn’t understand a word they said. Once at the site, the crew wasted several hours standing around while Eli conferred with the building’s owner. While they waited, the foreman closed the sidewalk in front and on one side with a yellow caution tape to protect passersby from danger. Caleb nailed up their work permits in a prominent position while two men moved the large dumpster into the best location for debris.
    During lunch—a wholly undeserved break since no one had done a lick of work—Caleb acquainted himself with the rest of the crew. Finally, a city councilman and the safety director of the city of Millersburg allowed the project to proceed.
    Eli divided the warehouse roof into sections so that the entire structure wouldn’t be exposed to the elements at the same time. Theyworked in three teams of two men to pry up layers of tar and felt that covered leaky three-quarter inch plywood. The seventh man gathered the old materials with a pitch fork and shovel to heave into the dumpster. With the sun warming his back and a breeze cooling his skin, Caleb liked the work. If nothing else, it distracted him from wallowing in self-pity. Playing games of what-if or if-only never did anyone a bit of good.
    After several hours, Caleb and his assigned partner hit a particularly rotted section of sheathing under the tarred felt. “Let me get something to cut out this whole corner,” he said. “None of this is salvageable.” Caleb climbed down the ladder to his toolbox in the van and returned within minutes. He had made only two cuts through the plywood before Eli appeared behind him on the roof.
    â€œWhat have you got, son?”
    Caleb glanced up. “It’s a reciprocating Sawzall. I brought it with me from Cleveland. This can get into hard-to-reach places better than a circular saw.” For demonstration he cut a second straight line through a section of underlayment.
    Eli huffed. “I know what a Sawzall is, Caleb. I’m just wondering