Tinker

By Gerald R. Sumner

Joel Singer faces a long and painful recovery from a careless accident. He finds himself unable to keep up with repairs around the old home that he and his family love so dearly. A strange little man appears at his door offering help. Joel's life is changed forever as Tinker helps him to relearn the lessons his father tried to teach him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gerald R. Sumner
• Release date: Aug 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310100697

Gerald R. Sumner

Gerald “Roger” Sumner is a former pastor, retired IBM field engineer, husband, father and grandfather, talented musician and skilled craftsman whose wife says, “can do about anything but sew!” Born to a poor family of 15 in the wiregrass regions of South Georgia, Roger has a rich heritage of values and a quest for spiritual truth. This combination has enabled him to write with wisdom and pathos, and a gentle and respectable treatment of simple folk. He is called by many to be a very wise man; a storyteller; a shepherd; and-- again his wife Susan interjects--“He is a prince among men.”Roger and Susan live in the mountains of Southeastern Tennessee. They have four children and three grandchildren, and a dog named Reagan.

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Tinker

By Gerald R. Sumner

~~Copyright 2014 Gerald R. Sumner~~

Smashwords Edition

Tinker

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Tinker

Chapter 2- An Afternoon Walk

Chapter 3- Dreams and Visions

Chapter 4- Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 5- A Visit in the Night

Chapter 6- Secrets of the Bell Tower

Chapter 7- Home At Last

Chapter 8 The Hammer, The Pencil and the Prayer

Chapter 9- A Time to Heal

Chapter 10- Divine Appointments

Chapter 11- A Neighbor’s Help

Chapter 12- Change After Change

Chapter 13- A Time to Pray

Chapter 14- The Tinker’s Heart

Chapter 15 The Least of These My Brethren

Chapter I

Tinker

Joel sipped a cup of black coffee, holding it with his left hand, the only useable hand he had since the accident a month ago. It was only a six-foot stepladder and all he was doing was tying a banner for his daughter’s birthday party. He couldn’t tell anyone how it happened because he couldn’t even remember. He only remembered waking up in tremendous pain. He remembered the ambulance ride; he remembered the agony of every bump and jerk on the ride to the hospital. Both collarbones broken, right arm broken, left shoulder sprained, several cracked ribs and a deep gash inside his thigh that barely missed a large artery. Added to that the fact, his spleen was bleeding and he had to be monitored constantly for several days as he lay as motionless as possible. Every agonizing moment was filled with regret for having been so careless.

You are fortunate to even be alive!

The young surgeon was sincere but the initial intensity of the pain had Joel to the point that he would have welcomed death for the relief it might have offered. The medication had eased his suffering somewhat and he had managed to get through the last four weeks, the first of which was in the hospital. Now he had settled in for a slow and arduous recovery.

Hurry girls, you will miss the bus if you don’t come on now.

His wife’s voice was shrill and he could sense the frustration that she was feeling with all the care of the house and the children falling on her now. The pain of having to watch her do all the work caused him as much suffering as his injuries had. He had never minded helping around the house and seeing her do everything by herself was painful and seemed to somehow diminish his manhood.

He loved the way his wife kept the house neat and clean and he did his part to make sure that everything was up to her standard. They both loved the old house they had bought from her grandparents. The girls loved it too. Each of them had their own bedroom upstairs. He and Jeanie had a larger bedroom downstairs. Their bedroom had a fireplace that he had meticulously restored and they loved to spend time together on cold nights in the flickering warmth of a fire. Their three daughters had piled in with them on many occasions and they all loved the bedroom. The old house seemed almost as though it were a member of their family.

But the house was old. While there were no major flaws in its structure there were many little things that constantly needed attention. Keeping the old windows weather-tight, squeaking floorboards, loose stair rails and a myriad of other small items required steady work to stay ahead of the old house. But he enjoyed it. It made him feel close to his family and made him feel good about himself. All of this added to the pain that he was enduring as he was healing from his injuries.

He’d grown up in a house with two brothers and two sisters. His parents had always made them share the work around the house. His father had taught him and his brothers to take care of the lawns. He taught them how to repair leaky faucets, how to fix lawn mowers and washing machines. He loved his father and he loved all the things his father had taught him. He employed every skill his father had passed to him in restoring and maintaining the old house.

Jeanie, his wife of ten years, always praised him when he helped her and when he saved them money by repairing things. She had been patient with him while he was recovering but he could see that the stress was taking its toll on her. The things that needed to be repaired were piling up and he was helpless to do anything about them. He tried to help as much as he could. He was beginning to be able to sort laundry and put it into the washer and move it to the dryer but could not fold them. For the most part, his efforts to help ended up creating more work for Jeanie and left him feeling miserable about himself.

Labor Day weekend was coming up and the girls had Friday and Monday off. He had persuaded Jeanie to go and visit her parents in Chesterton. They only lived thirty miles away but they ran an old country store and had a difficult time getting away to visit. Jeanie and the girls would go and spend the weekend with them. He had convinced her that he could take care of himself. He had lined up several of the men from their small-group at church to help him if he encountered an emergency. She had meals prepared in the freezer that he could take out and heat in the microwave. He would be able to rest knowing that Jeanie was getting a break from the stress of caring for the house, the girls and a wounded husband.

Get a move on girls! Your mother has your breakfast ready! The girls came down the stairs in a noisy parade. Janie was the first one to the table. She was the youngest but she seemed to be the only morning person among the lot. She had just started the first grade and loved to ride the bus to school with her big sisters. Mary, the oldest came down next. Mary was nine and had developed a bad habit of bossing the other two. He and Jeanie had worked diligently to show her how unbecoming it was. She was in a bossy mood this morning and her mother chided her on the way to the table.

Mary! How about you being the daughter today and let your father and I be the parents!

Yes Mama, I’m sorry. The apology may not have seemed sincere but the correction did its job and the girls settled into their breakfast as Jodie, the seven year old, made her grand entrance to the table. Jodie was the fashion queen of the three. She spent inordinate quantities of time in the bathroom primping. Today had been no exception and had been the cause of Mary’s bossy behavior.

Remember, girls, don’t get on the bus this afternoon! Look for my car in the parking lot. We’ll be leaving for Poppa’s and Grandma’s right after school. Mary, you make sure to round up your sisters and bring them to the car.

But Mom, if I do that, I might have to be bossy and I’ll get in trouble.

Well, then you better find a way to do it without being bossy! I hear the bus coming around the corner. Quick! Hugs! Wait for the bus to stop before you cross the street.

The little girls groaned as they said, Yes Mom!

Joel, are you sure you are going to be okay? You could come with us you know.

"Jeanie, I’ll be fine. You know I love your parents, but if I go, you’ll spend your entire weekend taking care of me and then we would both be miserable; if I stay here we can both get some rest. With that she gave him a long kiss.

I’ll be so glad when your bones heal so I can get a decent hug.

Me too honey! You just don’t know how glad I’ll be too!

I’m off to work. The car is packed; I’ll see you Monday night. Don’t forget about church Sunday morning. If you don’t feel like walking, Jeff said he could pick you up.

Okay, but I think I can walk; it’s only two blocks. I’ll call Jeff if it rains. I don’t want to miss any more church. It’s just not the same watching it on the Internet.

After a hectic, noisy morning the house was suddenly quiet. Joel pushed his chair back from the table and gingerly stood to his feet. His leg was still sore and some of the stitches had not yet come out. He had been instructed by the doctor to walk every day so that the muscles would rebuild their circulation. It was still quite sore and painful. He could use his left hand but still could not put much pressure on the sprained shoulder or the collarbones. His right hand was completely useless. His cast went from just below his shoulder to nearly the end of his fingers.

He scanned the kitchen. Jeanie had hurriedly washed and put away the breakfast dishes. Her favorite stainless steel pot was sitting out on the counter with a broken handle and a nice dent. He had dropped the big pot while it was full of soup. The welds had broken loose from the handle. The dent came from a hammer that was dropped on it while he was trying to tack a picture frame above the counter. Jeanie had been nice about it but he knew she was disappointed. He desperately wanted to fix at least something for her.

The knob to the washing machine had broken and he had not been able to find a new one. Jeanie had been using a pair of pliers to operate the machine. The front porch swing had fallen down on one side. It only needed a new eyehook but he did not have the strength to replace it. The mailbox door had fallen off and only needed a bolt to fix it. He had tried but he needed two hands in order to do the job and so had given up in frustration. There were doors that need to be adjusted so that they would close properly but he couldn’t do that either. The more he looked at the things that needed to be fixed the more frustrated he became. He refilled his coffee cup and decided to sit on the porch to see if the morning breeze would help his mood a little.

As he approached the front door he stopped and asked himself, what was I thinking? He could not open the door with the coffee in his hand. If he set the coffee down and pushed the door open it would swing back closed before he could pick up the cup of coffee. He set the coffee down at his feet and pushed the storm door open. He quickly bent down to pick up the coffee but only succeeded in turning the cup over on the doormat. Before he could open his mouth to swear at himself the door came back and hit him in the head, forcing him to fall back on his backside. He caught himself with his only good hand and the pain in his shoulder caused him to let out a curse-word that he thought had long ago been dropped from his vocabulary. Looking up at the door he noticed a nice dent just to the left of the handle. Seeing the dent in the door and the coffee-stain on the new doormat sent him beyond his breaking point.