Slow Burn | HS

out of the ash i rise

December 2016

Joelle Kattler picks up the mallet and it feels like a dead weight in her hand. It's not that it's particularly heavy, she's just not sure what she's supposed to do with it. With a wary glance, she turns it over in her hand. Her father may have mentioned this tool to her before, but the explanation is lost on her now.

Lifting her gaze, Joelle looks around to see what everyone else is doing. Despite her best efforts, there's no way she can blend in with her surroundings. Her least favorite thing is sticking out in a crowd, but that's exactly what she's doing. The feeling of awkward inadequacy and ineptitude makes the hair stick up on the back of her neck and a line of nervous sweat form on her hairline.

"Jo," a voice calls to her. "I grabbed a belt for you." Joelle turns, spotting Mia with two tool belts; one around her waist and the other in her hand.

"Thanks." Joelle hooks the belt over her sturdy khakis and then gathers her hair into a ponytail, just for the sake of the feeling of familiarity. December in Florida was never warmest month of the year, but anything is better than a frigid New England winter. If all of the other young adults around the clad in BC shirts are any clue, they aren't the only ones taking advantage of this opportunity. It's hard to say no to a week spent away from Boston in the Florida sunshine.

The gig was sponsored by Habitat for Humanity. Representatives staked out several spaces in Boston, looking for volunteers in the area to help rebuild homes in southern Florida that were destroyed in last August's hurricane. A group of them set up an information table at BC's campus in an effort to lure young, able-bodied men and women. Fans of both sunshine and the Sunshine State, Joelle and Mia were both more than willing, picking a week in the middle their winter break to go. Each service opportunity that Habitat for Humanity sponsored was called a "one-week blitz," allowing actual contractors and experts to devote a week of their time and assistance instead of a drawn out process that could take several months.

"Do you have any idea what we're supposed to be doing?" Mia asks Joelle quietly. Joelle looks at her helplessly, shaking her head. Unfortunately, the girls were late to arrive and missed the speech about the house and receiving their assignments. Mia, never one for punctuality, woke up too late and unprepared to deal with the Florida humidity. For fifteen minutes she relentlessly tried to tame her wild curls before deciding to go for a simple bun on top of her head.

A man with a bright orange shirt walks by, and Mia waves to stop him. "Excuse me," she says. "My friend and I were a little late getting here. Could you tell us what we should do?" He's older than a majority of the volunteers on site, and when Joelle reads the front of his t-shirt, she learns that Mia chose the right worker to ask. He's a professional, wearing an "expert" shirt making it clear to the volunteers who's in charge and who they should approach with questions.

The man pauses, taking his hard hat off his head and scratching his scalp before putting it back on. "Let's see here," he mutters. "Over there, lying on the ground, are some frames that are laid out but not bolted together. They're lined up correctly and have marks on them where they need to be attached." He gestures to the grass littered with large pieces of wood on the side of the foundation of the house. "There are power drills over in that shed, grab a couple and feel free to assemble them."

"Thank you," Joelle says to him. He smiles warmly, wrinkles becoming more pronounced by the corners of his eyes.

"Not a problem, ladies. If you need anything, just holler. My name is Kenny." With a slight head nod, Kenny was off to the next task. Mia linked her arm through Joelle's, leading her towards the makeshift shed. The girls were greeted by a man sitting at a table set up in front of the shed.