eye giving away that she was teasing.
“Well, it’s not like I usually sell directly to the public,” Meg retorted. “But I guess it might be nice to put in an appearance. Maybe I should put up a table with different apple varieties, and raffle off a basket or two.”
“That’s the spirit!” Gail said.
“Will the Historical Society have a table?”
“Of course. I want to show off our hole in the ground and collect contributions.”
Seth returned. “Looks like we’re good to go.”
Gail held up a small camera. “Mind if I take some pictures? This is part of our institutional history, and I’m sure the board will want a record.”
“Go right ahead,” Seth said to Gail, then pointed Jeffrey to a man standing next to the dump truck a few yards away. “Ask him where you should stand. He’s expecting you,” Seth told the teen. “And he’ll give you a pair of goggles and ear protection and some gloves, because there’ll be pebbles and stuff bouncing around—make sure you wear them. You two can work out some kind of hand signal to use if you see something worth taking a look at and he can tell the guys to stop.”
“How hard can I look?” Jeffrey asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how big does it have to be for them to stop? Like, if I see a bowl land in the tray, that’s pretty easy. But what if I see a one-inch shard of something?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Gail said. “Remember, there may not turn out to be anything to see. As far as we know, this was the first building on this site, so there may not be many artifacts beneath it.”
“
Or
there could be a ton of Native American artifacts,” Jeffrey replied cheerfully as he headed off for the dump truck.
Once the machine with the compressor started up, the noise made conversation challenging. “They’re going to start at this end, in the front,” Seth yelled, “and those guys over there are going to go in and check for progress every couple of feet, at least until things get rolling. And then they’ll start shoring up the building.”
“Right,” Meg shouted back. She glanced over at Jeffrey, who waved at her. He looked excited.
One man took hold of what Meg assumed was the vacuum rod and advanced on the building. It looked heavy but not difficult to direct. Seth had told her that a water-driven system was another option, using something much like a large fire hose, but she couldn’t imagine wrestling a torrent of water. Air seemed a lot less messy.
The sparse shrubbery had been cleared away from the old stone foundation, and some men had dug some preliminary holes, carefully removing the large granite foundation stones, which now lay a few feet behind the building. They didn’t extend very deep, Meg noted, wondering—not for the first time—how this and buildings like it had managed to survive for so long, especially in an area where the ground froze and thawed regularly. The worker stuck the end of the hose rod into the dirt, and the sound changed. Meg thought it sounded like someone was shaking a very large jar of marbles, as dirt and pebbles and who knew what else were sucked up and transported to the waiting truck. At that end the truck driver worked to control the exit hose, directing it toward a large flat tray, which Jeffrey leaned over, oblivious to the flying pebbles hitting his protective eyewear, and sorted through with a gloved hand. He didn’t find anything, so he and the other guy dumped the contents of the tray into the growing pile of excavated debris.
Every so often, the workers would stop the hose and climb into the expanding hole under the building, and then they’d call over some of the other workers, and they’d all point and poke and confer. Art was still hanging around, no doubt claiming official oversight privileges, and now and then he’d ask Seth a question. The process went on for a while, and Meg began checking her watch. Luckily, today was a light picking day, since she
“Well, it’s not like I usually sell directly to the public,” Meg retorted. “But I guess it might be nice to put in an appearance. Maybe I should put up a table with different apple varieties, and raffle off a basket or two.”
“That’s the spirit!” Gail said.
“Will the Historical Society have a table?”
“Of course. I want to show off our hole in the ground and collect contributions.”
Seth returned. “Looks like we’re good to go.”
Gail held up a small camera. “Mind if I take some pictures? This is part of our institutional history, and I’m sure the board will want a record.”
“Go right ahead,” Seth said to Gail, then pointed Jeffrey to a man standing next to the dump truck a few yards away. “Ask him where you should stand. He’s expecting you,” Seth told the teen. “And he’ll give you a pair of goggles and ear protection and some gloves, because there’ll be pebbles and stuff bouncing around—make sure you wear them. You two can work out some kind of hand signal to use if you see something worth taking a look at and he can tell the guys to stop.”
“How hard can I look?” Jeffrey asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how big does it have to be for them to stop? Like, if I see a bowl land in the tray, that’s pretty easy. But what if I see a one-inch shard of something?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Gail said. “Remember, there may not turn out to be anything to see. As far as we know, this was the first building on this site, so there may not be many artifacts beneath it.”
“
Or
there could be a ton of Native American artifacts,” Jeffrey replied cheerfully as he headed off for the dump truck.
Once the machine with the compressor started up, the noise made conversation challenging. “They’re going to start at this end, in the front,” Seth yelled, “and those guys over there are going to go in and check for progress every couple of feet, at least until things get rolling. And then they’ll start shoring up the building.”
“Right,” Meg shouted back. She glanced over at Jeffrey, who waved at her. He looked excited.
One man took hold of what Meg assumed was the vacuum rod and advanced on the building. It looked heavy but not difficult to direct. Seth had told her that a water-driven system was another option, using something much like a large fire hose, but she couldn’t imagine wrestling a torrent of water. Air seemed a lot less messy.
The sparse shrubbery had been cleared away from the old stone foundation, and some men had dug some preliminary holes, carefully removing the large granite foundation stones, which now lay a few feet behind the building. They didn’t extend very deep, Meg noted, wondering—not for the first time—how this and buildings like it had managed to survive for so long, especially in an area where the ground froze and thawed regularly. The worker stuck the end of the hose rod into the dirt, and the sound changed. Meg thought it sounded like someone was shaking a very large jar of marbles, as dirt and pebbles and who knew what else were sucked up and transported to the waiting truck. At that end the truck driver worked to control the exit hose, directing it toward a large flat tray, which Jeffrey leaned over, oblivious to the flying pebbles hitting his protective eyewear, and sorted through with a gloved hand. He didn’t find anything, so he and the other guy dumped the contents of the tray into the growing pile of excavated debris.
Every so often, the workers would stop the hose and climb into the expanding hole under the building, and then they’d call over some of the other workers, and they’d all point and poke and confer. Art was still hanging around, no doubt claiming official oversight privileges, and now and then he’d ask Seth a question. The process went on for a while, and Meg began checking her watch. Luckily, today was a light picking day, since she
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