OCR Text |
Show Hannah Mae and the Mona Lisa 28 Colby and I worked into the dark of Wednesday repairing his vegetable shack. We scrounged all the lumber we could find and loaded it into the back of the Ford along with nails, screws, hammers, and a couple of gallons of white paint. I think: the paint was waiting on a fence, but I figured Colby's vegetable stand needed it worse. After we set to working on the place, we discovered the stand wasn't as bad off as I had thought. We braced up the ceiling and walls, and rebuilt two tables. While Colby re-hung the awning, I pulled a mound of weeds. Finally, we painted from top to bottom. Colby got brighter and brighter the longer we worked, and by the time dark fell, all of his yesterday disappointments were faded into the sunset. We propped the awning as the sun was dropping, and the gold of the evening sky bounced about like hope at a wedding. "I think she'll do just fine." Colby beamed. "Now that we've painted the place, she looks good as new." He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug that would |