Last July

Chapter twenty seven

Dawn:// to begin to be perceived or understood

The cool morning wind streamed through my hair and I felt goosebumps forming like large beads of sweat on my skin under my sweater. I felt like making an early trek to the lake this morning, mist covering the vast evergreens that laid on both sides of the walk way. It was only a little after eight and the sun was slowly creeping higher and higher into the sky, golden streams filtering through the large canopy hung overhead.

I walked on humming the song that Andrew sung yesterday and thinking of our conversation. He has a great voice, the songs were old though, I'd only managed to know that one from My father's collection. I scratched my chin, that was probably a hint to his age right? An 80's song, that should make him, I shook my head, forty something but he said he wasn't that old. Shit! I grabbed my short hair in frustration still walking. My feet stopped at the edge of the lake house noting a familiar vehicle outside. I wasn't expecting him to be here, at least not at this hour. Curious I walked through the open door following the sounds of men's voices, hammers pounding, nails falling and saw blaring. My feet came only to a halt when I heard someone call out. I missed my funeral by only a millionth of a second.

"Kenzy!"

" Mr. Henderson " I said finally taking a breath after realising my almost demise.

"What are you doing here?"

" Oh, ah curiosity kills the cat" I replied awkwardly

The old man laughed at me.

This was the first time I've ever ventured beyond the exterior of the house, inside was filled with old oars, a large boat and a few boxes here and there along with the suffocating dust that danced around our faces and the countless Spider webs that hung in the corners. Everything told the story of an abandoned warehouse and we were the characters that found it.

"So what's really going on in here?" I asked returning my eyes to the old man.

" Setting up for the race this friday"

"Oh, right" I replied nodding my head. "Anything I can help with?"

Mr. Henderson smiled up at me a little brighter than I'd expect. Out of every other characters on this planet, I got along fine with old people. I don't know, they just don't seem all that energy consuming as younger people. The conversations were lighter and less expecting, I didn't feel the need to be someone I wasn't and that's what I felt around Mr. Henderson.

"Take this box over there, Andrew needs a few tools"

I nodded and grabbed a small dusty box that laid in a corner, true to his word Andrew stood, cutting a small piece of wood dressed in his usual white polo, blue denim and brown hard boots, his back to me covered in dust. He was humming, something that I found out he did naturally when comfortable but still found it weird.

I dropped the box to the left of his person and watched quietly as he finished his work before fishing the pencil from his mouth and sticking it behind his ear. I felt he'd look a little more workman friendly that way. Andrew ocean coloured eyes met mine for a brief moment before it dipped back to his work before him, his humming had stopped and so did the noise of the saw.

"Why are you here ziploc?"

"Well good morning to you too andrew " I replied asserting some mannerism.

He waved his hand. "Yeah, answer the question"

I stood hands on hips and gazed at him. He was a serious pain in the ass.

"I'm helping out since you asked so kindly"

"You shouldn't be here, who's going to finish that book of yours?"

" I've given up on it"

He stood straight, his eyes searching our environment before it came back to me.

"Its in your hair" I said realising he was searching for the pencil.

"Thanks" he glanced over his shoulder a last time before turning to me. "What'd you mean you've given up on it? that's your work"

" Well, yeah but" I realised he was seriously concerned about my decision and I couldn't hold his gaze any longer. "I've just given up on writing right now, it's going to be finish" I laughed. "Has to be finished but I've yet to enjoy this place, one day break won't kill me Andrew I'll be fine"

He stared at me for a long time unconvinced, then shook his head and returned to work. I smiled shyly though he didn't see it.

"You know, you don't seem very social"

" I'm not" he paused and a small smile formed on his lips. "But I'm just not antisocial"

"What's the difference?"

"I don't hate people"

I laughed. "Right, you just like spending time on your own"

" Touche. But some people won't let me alone"

I swore he winked at me that time. There was something growing between us, we were going to be friends, I realized whether he wanted to admit it or not. It might just be four weeks, but I wanted it to count.

"Okay ziploc, make yourself useful, give me hand with this".