Whitewashing the JCS Barn

 

Sunday morning came and the whole of Jericho seemed to be anew with colorful flowers and vegetable gardens; everything looked fresh, and new, and revived as the summer sun rose up against the Jericho Country Store. There were folks coming in and out of the store chattering with good cheer. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee escaped through the creemee window and drifted to where Linda stood. Across the street on Jericho Center Green churchgoers gathered in their Sunday best. Beyond that, the library, freshly renewed and refurbished.

Linda walked along the sidewalk and peered over at the barn behind the Jericho Country Store with dismay as all the joy and contentment of spring bloom and early summer newness faded. That poor old hackneyed barn sure does need a fresh new coat of paint, but who to get to paint it she thought to herself. 

The towering ancient lilac at the corner of the house next door nearly erupted in song with its deep purple blooms and fragrance like perfume worn on a most elegant, beautiful aging woman. We need to bring back the sparkle to that wonderful barn, bring her back to her former eloquence so she can again be book ends with the library while folks settle out across the green at picnic tables, and set upon the grass drinking coffee, slurping ice cream, conversing; children playing and dogs chasing, and the new leaves, swept roads, and the Shipman’s roadside flowers all coming together in the center of the community. 

Who, who indeed? She looked across the green again and thought of asking Mickey, then she recalled how he recently injured an arm. No that would not do. Who might she entice to whitewash this towering barn? Then a who came to mind, only how to convince them of the joy one could feel in climbing a ladder into the clouds, scraping and scraping and scraping old paint away like scales off of a fish, patching with primer, then splashing and splashing red paint? The give-it-a-go speech in her mind seemed lacking. 

A fresh new approach was needed. She had tried before with the salesmanship, even a bit of begging and pleading. Now was the time to pull all stops. The JCS Barn must not be forgotten in the background. She must once again hold her weathervane high in pride atop a red ballast that she once was, as part of the stability and anchor that makes up the Jericho community. 

Linda long loved Mark Twain and knew that if he were here today, well she knew what she had to do. So the next morning, as folks stopped by for coffee they were a bit surprised to see her standing on the sidewalk, with a bucket of whitewash and a long-handled brush surveying the barn. 

She smiled her lovely smile while she posed the joyful look of one about to set upon a task so pleasing that one nearly giggles in anticipation to get at it. As her intended target stepped out of the store, enjoying a sip of hot vanilla flavored coffee, he caught the scent of the glorious lilacs wafting his way. He looked up and over towards the lilacs and there well-framed was Linda in her painting coveralls, just a smiling and looking darn pretty as ever. 

"Well hello Jim", she called out, "What you up to today?" Jim replied, "Fetching to catch me some bass, with Bernie over to the big pond I reckon. Going to be one fine day don’t ya think? How about you, Linda, what’s with all that painting gear, I thought you didn’t like to paint and climb ladders and all." Linda let the coffee and lilac scents continue to merge and sweeten the air further before she set out the bait.

"Why I sure do love to paint on a fine day like today. Why painting is as much fun as hooking one of those largemouth basses. Every time you drop the brush into the bucket it's like dropping a line into the water, pull the brush up and you have a lunker on the line, then you reel him in by brushing on the paint. Why painting ain’t no more work than fishing is, didn’t you know that Jim?"

Jim, caught back a bit surprised and bewildered by Linda’s gaiety and enthusiasm about painting, said, "You mean you enjoy the scraping too?" Which Linda quickly replied, "Why that’s nearly as much fun as hookin’em and reeling them in. Why scraping paint is like scraping the scales off of a fish and all the time thinking how good it is going to taste, only I'm thinking how good the barn will be looking and how all the folks will be chattering about how I did such a good job of painting her up like a fish on the wall. And Jim, there ain’t no fish nearly as big as this barn in that whole darn lake, never mind what Bernie tells you." 

Jim was hooked for sure. Linda aimed to set the hook good and reel him in. 

"Now Jim, seems to me that coffee smells enticing, and the grill will be heating up in an hour or so. Those breakfast and lunch sandwiches sure are tasty and close by if you happen to be painting the barn, splashing red across her bow."

 

"Why this brush probably fits in your hand better than any rod and reel you ever did hold. And look at these fine bristles, as strong and fine as any fishing line. Yup, it's a fine day to be up in the clouds with the wind blowing through your hair. Too bad you committed to bouncing about on the big waves with Bernie today. Heard it might be a bit choppy out there. You be sure to bring some Tums."

Jim started to rethink the fishing trip. He remembered the wet sandwiches from the last trip. The fishing was good alright, except Bernie caught all the big ones and bragging rights. 

"Linda, what you say I give that fine brush a try? Just to see how it’d feel in my hand." "Well ok", said Linda, "Just you see I am kind of fond of this here brush, and it takes a bit of finesse to know how to handle it just right so you get a good sweep of paint on the line and don’t lose any as you toss it out and across the way, followed by a smooth sweeping action with your wrist. See Jim there is an art to painting a barn, not everyone can learn to do it well. But it sure is rewarding if you can tackle it right." 

Linda remembered how Mark Twain’s Tom had learned that to make a man covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to obtain. 

Linda handed over the brush to Jim with a show of hesitancy. "Darn sorry that you will miss out on the new sandwich JCS created and is offering up for the first time today. But I bet Bernie makes some fine spam sandwiches." Jim handled the brush like it was a fast action fast tip fly rod, most of the tip coming at the end of the bristles. Jim practiced casting it about imagining filling his creel with red Channel Bass. 

Later that day, as Bernie pulled in supper from the lake, Jim pulled up another gallon of red paint dreaming of a red Channel Bass as big as a barn, framed and hanging on his wall and all his buddies admiring the fine catch. Yup, it was a sure fine day to whitewash the JCS barn. 

About a week later, Linda again stood on the sidewalk. With the pride of the community, she looked upon the barn that once again held her weathervane high in pride atop a red ballast as part of the stability and anchor that makes up the Jericho community.

I will always believe caring plus contribution equals community.

& A little storytelling and laughter don't hurt none either!

Bernie