Screw Pile Developments

Morning — The Kitchen

Charlie was busy cutting up vegetables for the chicken and vegetable soup that would be for lunch. They were all going into the enormous stock pot on the stove. They had discussed at length all of the ingredients that would go into the soup, the stock, the vegetables and the cut of chicken. Exactly how it would be made, and how long it would take to cook. Rebecca was impressed at his questions, his answers to hers and his knowledge.

Rebecca observed him slicing and dicing the onions. Cut in half, precision parallel cuts and then a quick flick of his wrist ninety degrees to dice them into the smallest of pieces.

The knife stopped its frenetic dissection for just a moment.

Rebecca put down her tea towel and crossed the kitchen. She then gave Charlie a hug, a real hug.

A Rebecca hug.

Rebecca did not need to ask who.

They moved on to making the bread, mixing, kneading and proving.

Soon the oven was hot, and ready.

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Lunch — The Dining Room

The boys piled into the dining room in a rowdy and chaotic tidal wave of energy. Places were found in haphazard order as the aroma of freshly baked bread drew in the stragglers. Soup was ladled generously into waiting bowls and Charlie’s freshly baked bread was eagerly torn apart, ready to be slathered with golden yellow butter made from the cream of the station’s own cows.

Noisy chatter filled the room and Angus was already on his second bowl. Fergus had torn a piece of bread off the loaf, with such enthusiasm that a piece landed with a small splash in Daan’s bowl. Daan simply continued, eating both the piece of bread and the soup without breaking the rhythm of spoon to his mouth.

Harry was sitting next to Lewis, and Dogger was on the bench between them. Without thought, Harry grabbed Dogger and threw him clear across the table to Rupert on the other side.

Lewis was alarmed, he did not like Dogger being thrown about. Rupert caught Dogger with a grin.

Rupert just laughed and made Dogger walk in the air back towards Harry.

Seb had been watching the exchange, and his face had changed like thunder.

The situation which had lasted for all of twenty seconds was threatening to escalate into blows.

Then came a sound, a deep, low, primordial rumble.

A growl.

It was the sound of a growl that had emanated from deep within a Hunde’s chest. It started off slowly and built in momentum.

The growl had come from Grandpa Jake. Everything in the room froze for just an instant.

Dogger was put down.

Spoons were put down, and Angus who had frozen in mid pass to his mouth put his spoon back down.

All eyes turned to Grandpa Jake, however he spoke softly.

Seb sat down.

Rupert meekly passed Dogger back to Lewis, and Lewis put Dogger back on the bench beside him, this time on the other side from Harry.

Grandpa returned to his meal and nothing more was said.

The only person at the table who had continued to eat his lunch calmly throughout the whole incident, was Daan.

Daan was not about to let his soup go cold.

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After Lunch — The Verandah

Seb sat on the front steps, still visibly upset from the lunchtime incident. No, not from the growl, but the thing that had preceded it. Dogger. Lewis, powerless to change the situation. Events that were out of his control.

Quietly, with a fresh mug of tea in his paw, Jake came and sat beside Seb. He did not speak straight away. He simply waited.

Seb did not look up, as he sniffed and brushed away a tear.

Seb didn’t hesitate.

Jake knew Seb wasn’t just talking about Dogger.

There was a long pause between them.

A soft breeze blew its way across the verandah rustling the leaves on the bushes lining the steps.

Seb looked across at Grandpa Jake with a weak smile.

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Afternoon — The Workshop

Samson and Marta were working on the water pump, it had been completely disassembled, cleaned and reassembled. Samson had correctly diagnosed that it needed new seals. Marta had been quietly impressed at his questions, and his instinctive ability to zero in on the problem. It was time to put the pump to the test. Using a massive pipe wrench, Samson turned the locking nut on the pipe leading in from the millrace and then from the pump on to fill the water tanks that fed the station.

The gear engaged with a satisfying thunk. The incoming shaft from the waterwheel, connected to a large flywheel, began to turn. This was connected to a crank-slider mechanism that drove the piston on the water pump. The distinctive sound of water began to flow through the pipes. Marta’s tail waved from side to side in acknowledgement.

Not long after, Raven appeared for his usual inspection of the rock tumbler.

Raven couldn’t hide the eager anticipation in his voice.

Right on cue Daan wandered into the workshop to help Raven open up the tumbler.

Daan disengaged the tumbler from the drive, and handed it to Raven.

At first all they could see was just a grey slurry of water with a few lumps in it, but then Daan got the hose and handed it to Raven.

Daan was right. As Raven continued to wash the stones in the sieve, the opaque grey slurry was washed away and soon the result began to appear.

Raven was speechless. There in the sieve were several dozen small perfectly polished dark grey and black stones. Some were marbled and some slightly lighter and some darker than the others. Then as Raven moved the stones around with his hand he saw it. One stone distinctly different from the others.

It was unmistakable, it had distinct shades of — red.

Raven looked Daan directly in the eye.