Starting Work

I was 12 when I started working for real. It was 1982. My old man was getting his life together. He’s kicked the coke and was on a slow burn of Valium and dope. It got him through the day. He was talking to Uncle Charlie at the time, and Charlie’s ex-parents-in-law needed a new roof.

Deddy, Charlie, Great Uncle Tom – a mean old bastard- Roger, and I worked up on that roof. The house was pretty big, just a single-story ranch house in the middle of the country. Rectangle with a hip roof.

Only two sections of roof had to be torn off. The rest could be nailed over. We took flat nose shovels and pried the shingles up in batches, sometimes singles, sometimes one little square about 3 x 3 inches at the time. It was slow work, and hot. It was summer in Teer, NC, dairyland, corn, and truck gardens are about all there is out there. Its right peaceful though. Hot up there.

Thing was, didn’t nobody know shit about roofing. Deddy and Charlie were siding men, tin men, flim-flammers, storm doors and windows. Nailing on shingles was hard and hot. A bundle of shingle weighed 80 lbs. and had to be carried up one at a time. Roger and I broke them in 2 or 3 parts to carry them up. Heavy as all hell.

The other thing that was funny. Real roofers will spread out tarps so they can catch all the trash from the tear-off. Hundreds, no thousands of nails, and as mentioned huge chunks of asphalt fiberglass, down to one-inch flecks. We dumped it all in the bushes. 10-15-25 lb. chunks slid off the roof and crashed into the shrubbery. Deddy said, “You ’n Roger go on down there and pick that shit up.” I was 12, Roger 14 and we did it, hated it. Even though had gloves. Lots of cuts and scrapes, holes poked in our hands. Countless nails and tarry fiberglass chunks got left behind. The lady on the house huffed and puffed but couldn’t say nothing.

Roger only came 3 days. He would prime tobacco stooping endlessly in the fields for his brother for no pay, but he only came Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. It was hot on the roof. We drank water, but not enough. I was a pudgy kid. Skipped lunch most of the year at the Middle School. Ate 2 Nutty Buddies and drank a lemon drink instead. I sweat a bunch off that summer.

A little boy came over one day. He was the lady’s niece’s kid or something, maybe 4 years old. He kicked himself around on a little toy tractor, a red International. Some other fellow was over there talking to William, the man of the house. The fellow leans down to eye level and shouts in the little boy’s face, “ISSAT YOR TRACTOR!?” The little boys face cracked like a spider-webbed windshield. He bellowed tears, eyes closed. his face towards the sky. The man looked up befuddled and laughed nervously at William. William, a deadpan expression, looked out over the wheat field.

We laughed about that for weeks.

There was a bug zapper. A purple light in a decorative plastic case, made to look like a streetlamp. Rabbit wire covered the purple light. Bugs would hit it in swarms. They crackled and popped like giant insects in a horror movie. I was napping at lunch one day on a pool chair under the carport. I didn’t know the bug light made the sound. I thought giant wasps were growing under my chair, like monsters under the bed. I kept my hands well tucked.

One day at the end of the week, I think the job took only 5 days, they were resurfacing the road. Tar and gravel, that’s all. Except it was about 95 degrees out. The tar didn’t harden. Deddy had a ’65 Ford F-100, still in good shape, but the fuel pump was giving out, so it broke down in front of the house.

We stood around the hood trying to figure it out. A disconnected fuel line started spitting gas again. It was fine for a couple of days. The bottoms of all our shoes had a layer of tar and gravel on them. Mine were white high-top leather Nikes with a grey stripe. They were 6-8 months old already. That was about how long they lasted a young teen. I was young and a teen. Deddy and Charlie drank beer while they fixed the truck. Round about 4 o’clock it cooled off. I wanted a coke. Tom had some back at his house. He was mean as hell, bout all the time. He was nice to me though.