instrument Ethan had gravitated to. He enjoyed the varying moods of it,
and its portability.
Still, he found music a waste of sound whenever he was concentrating on
a job, as he usually didn't hear it after ten minutes anyway. Silence
suited him best during those times, but Seth liked the radio in the
boatyard up, and up loud. So to keep peace, Ethan simply tuned out the
head-punching rock and roll.
The hull of the boat had been caulked and filled, a labor-intensive and
time-consuming task. Seth had been a lot of help there, Ethan admitted,
giving him an extra pair of hands and feet when he needed them. Though
Christ knew the boy could complain about the job as much as Phillip did.
Ethan tuned that out as well--to stay sane.
He hoped to finish leveling off the decking before Phillip arrived for
the weekend, planing first on one diagonal, then across the next at a
right angle.
With any luck, he could get some solid work done that week and the next
on the cabin and cockpit.
Seth bitched about being on sanding detail, but he did a decent job of
it. Ethan only had to tell him to go back and hit portions of the hull
planking again a couple of times. He didn't mind the boy's questions,
either. Though he had a million of them once he started.
"What's that piece over there for?"
"The bulkhead for the cockpit."
"Why'd you cut it out already?"
"Because we want to get rid of all the dust before we varnish and seal."
"What's all this other shit?"
Ethan paused in his own work, looking down from his position to where
Seth frowned at a stack of precut lumber. "You got the sides and cabin
ends, the toerail and drop-boards."
"It seems like an awful lot of pieces for one stupid boat."
"There's going to be a lot more."
"How come this guy doesn't just buy a boat that's already built?"
"Good thing for us he isn't." The client's deep pockets, Ethan mused,
were giving Boats by Quinn its foundation. "Because he liked the other
boat I built for him--and so he can tell all his big-shot friends he had
a boat designed and hand-built for him."
Seth changed his sandpaper and applied himself again. He didn't mind the
work, really. And he liked the smells of wood and varnish and that
linseed oil, too. But he just didn't get it. "It's taking forever to put
it together."
"Been at it less than three months. Lots of people spend a year--even
longer--to build a wooden boat."
Seth's jaw dropped. "A year! Jesus, Ethan."
The loud, and very normal whine, made Ethan's mouth twitch. "Relax, this
isn't going to take us that long. Once Cam gets back and can put in full
days on it, we'll move along. And once school's out, you can pick up a
lot of the grunt work."
"School is out."
"Hmm?"
"Today was it." Now Seth grinned, wide and bright. "Freedom. It's a done