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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Fix It - 4. Chapter 4

To be sure that work continued well, they each stopped by the old station to make regular checks, when they weren’t simply volunteering themselves.

“Looks like the hulk of the Titanic,” Rob joked at one point.

“And it seems like we’ll never get back here,” Jae agreed. She was sitting at the edge of a mess. “Still, it feels good just coming in.”

‘What’re the most important things left?” Owen asked.

Again, Elena checked their list. “Getting the last of our old things out so we can move around. There’re scaffolds to be set up so ceiling molding can be repaired – and it all was originally plaster.”

“And there are conduits to be routed into walls,” Ike added. “All the ones they’ve been tacking on for years need to be replaced. Again, we’re talking plaster and lath. Not easy plasterboard.”

“I thought we were sidestepping some of that,” Owen remembered.

“We were, until our carpenters kept asking, ‘Why?’ They know how to do things properly and kept saying, ‘This place is landmarked.’”

“The purists’ll get you every time,” Owen said grinning. “Now where can we store our desks and files?”

“The front offices,” Elena began. “The old marriage and license bureaus. They’re empty – at least, no one’s using them. But they’re already full of trash.”

“And junk,” Don added. “And supplies.”

“Can we move that?” Owen wondered.

“We’re trying,” Elena assured him. “But some things – like our desks – can’t just be stacked somewhere. They have to be easy for the people refinishing them to get.”

“And they need to be protected once they come back from their shop,” Jae put in.

“Again, can’t we just clear those offices out?” Owen asked. “Have volunteers cart away what’s left?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not our call,” Ike reminded him. “All the old equipment has to be inspected to see what can be salvaged – by the city – or county – or state. Or given to worthy organizations. And someone has to decide how much each piece is worth for a tax write-off.”

“ And the mayor won’t let volunteers do that?” Owen posed. “Since they’re the same people he’d normally hire?”

Ike shrugged, his hands out and empty.

“Have we asked?” Owen put to Elena.

She had to admit, “Probably not. We’ve been too busy with other jobs. Plus, we’re trying not to ask too many favors.” But she added it to their list.

“Another problem,” Ike went on, “is we’ve agreed to re-do the heating for the whole ground floor – it’s cheaper that way. And we know the extra rooms’ll be used in time, and we’re only talking about six small offices.” He turned to Elena. “Have we been approved to take two of them yet?”

“It’s still being discussed,” she replied.

“Because if we are,” he continued, “the doors that now go to the hallway need to be filled in and new ones cut to our office.”

“There’s the catch,” Owen explained, “those purists again – and we may never get past them. The mayor will happily give us those two offices, but we may always have to go through the hallway.”

“That undercuts security,” Don said.

“Everyone knows that,” Owen answered, chuckling. “Except the landmarking committee.”

“Do we know anything about the windows?” Don pushed on.

“They’re still discussing the glass – the triple-paned panels we want.”

“Will they compromise on double?” Rob jested.

Owen grinned again. “One old guy wants as much of the original glass kept as possible – he claims it’s ‘historic.’”

That cracked everyone up.

“But that depends on the frames being restored – which is almost a given, since we can’t afford new ones, even with donations. And most of those windows are seven feet tall.”

“ We’ve always had great light,” Jae acknowledged. “Even if the windows leaked.”

“At least, the rain kept them clean,” Don jived.

Everyone laughed again.

“There are some small gains,” Owen soon reported. “But mostly more talk – and always a two hours’ drive from here. Then I have to keep grinning through endless conversations I really don’t care about.” He screwed up his mouth. “There’s a reason I joined police force,” he commented. “I’m happier on my feet. Not that I spend much time there anymore.”

“You keep us on ours,” Jae joshed.

“Are we any closer?” Elena persisted.

“All the time,” Owen assured her. “But it’s like taking halfway steps that get us halfway there. Still, you can see the improvements.”

“It’s true.” Elena glanced around. “We’re even turning volunteers away – or assigning them to plan our move back and the party. They’re excited about that. But there’s still lots of work.”

“We may have to give in on some things,” Owen allowed.

“Is there anything we haven’t compromised on?” Rob kidded. “The windows. The heating. The lighting and plumbing. On just about anything you can name. Sometimes we’ve backed off so far, we forgot what we originally wanted.”

“We did that on the new building, too,” Jae considered. “And that came out fine.”

“And so will this,” Owen predicted. He repeated that a month later, when the work was finally negotiated and the last rounds begun, and a third time when it was almost finished. Plus, when the volunteer pick-up trucks started their week-long parades from the new station. Until that Saturday morning, when the celebration spread from the town hall across closed off Main Street to the Commons and the banner-draped gazebo. Another sign – “We’re Back” – had replaced the smaller “We Goofed,” though the purists still hadn’t taken the restoration to 1869.

“It’s less Spartan,” Jae pronounced, “though not too ‘Colonial Williamsburg.’ There’s no coordinated pastels.”

“It looks like a working station,” the mayor agreed in his speech from the gazebo steps, and it seemed half the townspeople were there.

“And everything’s works,” Ike nearly trumpeted, smoothly sliding the drawers of his desk out and in.

“It’s the same old jail though,” Jae lightly complained. “Even if the bars are white. And you know how much touch up they’ll need.”

“I’ll buy you the paint,” Elena quipped.

“We did get new mattresses,” Don ventured.

“And put them right on the old steel slabs,” Jae returned. “Have you ever tried sleeping on one of those?”

“We’re not supposed to encourage repeaters,” Don cracked.

“Or get sued by them, either,” Jae jibed back. “Though I’m sure the mattresses’ll be wrecked in a year.”

“That’s why we stopped replacing the old ones,” Rob recalled.

“But we did get new bathrooms,” Elena said smiling. “And non-gender. Even if they’re still cramped under the stairs.”

“I could never stand up in them,” Ike offered. “I always banged my head, getting up from the john. But it’s OK,” he quickly added smiling.

“He’s right,” Jae immediately joined in. “Everything’s OK. In fact, it’s almost wonderful.”

And looking over their work after everyone else had left and the party was cleared away, they were still a little surprised at how well it had all turned out.

“Job done,” Owen announced grinning. “All fixed.”

As usual, thanks, everyone, for reading along.
Next week another Waldron Police story, "Solitary," which begins with a knife fight in a retirement home. This story will run about four months and will post on the usual Fridays.
Copyright © 2022 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

That was a fast remodel!  But what it achieved in community pride is priceless.  Thanks for the story!.

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Sure thing.  It was actually written as the introduction to a short book that I thought would be "Fix It," "Recycle," and "The Kid on the Bike."  But then I thought up "Solitary."  Now I just have to edit that.

Again, thanks for following along.

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A very interesting way to write a story, told in dialogue, that works well for a short story.  The ending is a true happy ending for the police station, staff and citizens.  

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