I approach Riley as he shrugs on his hi-vis vest and snags his hard hat. "Got a minute, boss?"
He tosses the hard hat back onto the rear bench. “Sure, man. What's up?"
"Figured you oughta know. Noelle and I had a run-in with Duane last night at the store. He cornered her, talking shit to her. Guess he did it once before, too, the first time she came around the site."
Riley glances at Duane as the scrawny, greasy, weaselly little man gathers tools from the trailer and carries them inside. "Seems in one piece."
I shrug. "Tossed him around a little, threatened him. But I don't like it. Don't like him. He ain't right."
Riley nods, brows lowering. "You're not wrong. He works hard for the most part, but he's always given me skeezy vibes." he winces. "I can't just fire him, though. Need a better reason. Did he put his hands on her?"
I shake my head. "Not that I saw."
"I'll keep an eye on him. I guess just try to keep him away from your girl, and you give him space, too. Neither of you needs any shit—you especially. You’ve got too much to lose now.” Riley claps me on the arm. "Felix asked if I could loan you to his crew. They're putting in a bunch of marble today, and he needs your help. You up for it?"
"Whatever you need, boss."
"Good man. Report to Fee, and I'll catch you for lunch." He snags his hard hat and heads inside to the build our crew is doing cleanup in—it’s been framed out and drywalled, andflooring has been put in, and now it needs to be cleaned up so cabinets, counters, and finishing touches can go in.
I find Felix at the next house over, he and four other guys struggling with a giant slab of marble that must weigh several hundred pounds. "Heard you needed me," I say.
The men all set the slab down together, wiping their brows and panting.
"Thank fuck." Felix gestures at the marble. "Make room, fellas." He juts his chin at me. "Grab the end. You're the base.”
"Got it," I say, circling to the end opposite Felix.
There are suction handles attached to the slag at regular intervals at the top and bottom, providing handholds. I grab a pair on one side at the end, brace my legs, and wait for the count.
"On three," Flex calls. "One…two…three."
I heave upward—a little too fast; the other guys need a second to catch up.
"Holy fuckballs, dude," the dude next to me says, laughing. "You got it by yourself? Shit."
"Probably could," Felix grunts as we carry the huge slab down the hallway toward the kitchen. "Why do you think I—pivot, careful—why d'you think I borrowed his big ass from Riley?"
By the time we get the monster chunk of marble into the kitchen, even I’m huffing and sweating…but to be fair, I’ve got the whole back end by myself while the rest take the front and middle, focusing on guiding it around the narrow turn into the kitchen. After a brief rest, we get it up into position.
I watch as Felix measures, re-measures, and measures a third time before using a special water saw to cut holes for the sink, faucet, and sprayer. "Still need me?" I ask.
He looks up at me, nodding. "Oh yeah." He gestures at the kitchen and the acres of open space above the lower cabinetswhere counters have to go. "Strap in, big man. We got a lot of work to do."
And so goes my day—lugging slab after slab of marble inside, placing it, and repositioning. I take an interest in the cutting process and end up Felix's assistant as he cuts, places, and joins the sections seamlessly.
By the end of the day, I'm flat-out exhausted but exhilarated. I didn't just destroy shit today, I created something.
Feels good.
Felix and I sit on his tailgate sipping water as the other guys take one last smoke break before cleanup and go time.
He eyes me. "Great work today, man. Woulda taken twice as long." He watches his brother laugh and rough-house with Anthony. "Love to have you on my crew, to be honest. Not sure if my little bro will let you go, though."
I frown. "Yeah, maybe not. But I…" I scrub my face. "I liked the work, today. Building. Creating. Demo is a great outlet, but…"
"You're ready for more," Felix finishes, nodding. "I'll talk to him. See if I can convince him to let you do a few shifts on my crew. How long do you have left in the program?"
"Well, my parole with the state is separate, obviously. You a total of five years in the program, and I’ve done three and a half. After that, I'm good to go wherever. Most guys stay with the crew, though."
