Rip - Becoming Whole

Anger can be your Friend

Frank drove the pickaxe into the hard ground preparing it for Rip to lift the soil into the wheelbarrow with his shovel. It was back breaking work for both of them, and every so often they switched. It seemed the further they were digging away from the stables, the more rocks they encountered and the bigger those rocks got, but at least with Frank helping him he was now able to fill the wheelbarrow all the way to the top. Despite his age Frank was still strong enough to roll, in one swift move, the heavy wheelbarrow up the two blanks that served them as a ramp to the top of the dumpster in which they tipped the soil into.

With nothing better to do on this Saturday night, because Paul was sitting with the friend he normally would go and have drink with, Frank ended up helping Rip, digging the foundation of that blasted arena. He was just as fed up that it wasn't done yet, as Rip was. He had been looking forward to it, and for that reason alone he was annoyed that Jacob had left, as he had to confess, being in charge of the horses was a much-preferred occupation than being the foreman and in charge of the bunk house. He was glad that this task now fell onto Robert.

"How come you're not up on the porch with them tonight?" Rip asked. "Do you not like him?"

"Who? Paul? What's there not to like, Rip?" the old man replied. Neither of them was sure if this was meant to be sarcastically or not.

He would have loved to ask the old man some questions about his grandfather. He knew that Frank had worked on the ranch since his teens and also knew his nana. He suspected he was more than a bit fond of her, so he assumed he must have also known his grandfather. Rip knew better than to ask any questions though. He got the feeling there was a history between the two and Frank was not a talker at best of times. He got easily irritated by idle chat. Rip didn't want to lose his help, so he kept his mouth shut and kept digging. It was a comfortable silence they both were used to.

They saw Paul walking towards them when they took a short break, sharing the water that Rip had gotten from the house earlier. Paul looked as if he was contemplating whether he wanted to turn back when he saw them looking at him, but then continued all the same, until he finally came to a stop in front of them.

"You guys want a hand?" Paul asked neither of them in particular. Rip bit his lip and sheepishly looked at Frank. He wanted to say yes, but something in the look that the two old men gave each other told him that it was not his decision to make. He shrugged his shoulders and picked up his shovel, getting back to work where they had stopped.

"I'll get you a shovel," Rip heard Frank say in a low voice behind him which sounded almost like a growl.

When Paul suggested he could get his own, Frank replied contemptuously, "Wouldn't want you to get lost, Paul, and not find your way back." 

Rip had suspected as much but at this stage it had become blatantly obvious that there was no love lost between the two men.

They dug without talking to each other for what seemed like ages. The silence now no longer comfortable was deafening, and at some stage Rip considered telling them to go leave him to dig in peace, after all he had come here to 'clear his head', but when he saw the progress that had been made with their help, he reconsidered.

"There's no need to go quite that deep, Paul. We're not trying to hide a body," Frank told Paul, who drove his shovel into the ground, making it stand up, when the wheelbarrow was full again and needed to be emptied.

"That's reassuring, Frank," Paul said with a quiet chuckle and a grin as he wheeled the soil towards the dumpster. Rip watched surprised how he managed the ramp with just  as much ease as Frank.

"We'd have to dig a whole lot deeper to hide your fat belly," Frank said dryly, when Paul came back with the empty wheelbarrow.

"Hah," Paul laughed out loudly as he picked up the pickaxe and started to assault the ground again.