Sugar sky's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The morning after signing, Sugar sky stood under the cracked beam and stared up at it. The wood ran across the whole ceiling. A dark split cut through its middle. Sugar sky pressed a hand to the corner where the wall leaned. If they patched the beam wrong, the roof could drop. If they guessed the damage was small when it wasn't, someone could get hurt. They needed to see how deep the crack went before they touched it. Sugar sky fetched a ladder from the porch. The kitten with dragonfly wings flew up and perched on the beam. Sugar sky climbed the rungs and shone a flashlight along the wood. Near the wall, the split widened. Water stains spread out from it like a brown map. Sugar sky pushed a screwdriver into the crack. It sank in soft. The wood was rotten deep, not just cracked. This was worse than a patch job. Sugar sky sat on the top rung and thought. They had no money for a builder. But they knew who might help. Yesterday the seller had mentioned her mother once baked in a place like this. That kind of person kept things. Old tools. Old knowledge. Sugar sky walked inland and found a big grand house with stone steps and warm lights in every window. Green shutters framed the glass. A balcony sat above the red door. Sugar sky knocked. The seller answered, wiping flour from her hands. "The beam," Sugar sky said. "It's rotten through, not just cracked. I don't know how far it runs." The woman looked at Sugar sky a moment. Then she stepped back. "My mother had the same trouble once," she said. She went inside and returned with a long iron probe and a folded paper. "Her repair plan. She marked where the rot always starts by the sea. Push the probe every foot. Where it stops going in, the wood is still sound. That's where you cut." Sugar sky took both. "Why help me?" "You didn't knock it down." She closed the red door. Back at the cottage, Sugar sky climbed the ladder again. They pushed the probe along the beam, foot by foot. Soft, soft, soft. Then, four feet from the wall, the iron stopped. Hard wood. Sugar sky marked the spot with chalk. They did the same from the other side. A clear line showed. The rot ran six feet. The rest held firm. Sugar sky climbed down and looked at the chalk marks. Now they knew. Cut out six feet, brace the ends, fit new wood. No more guessing. No falling roof. But the marked section was long. New beam wood cost money Sugar sky didn't have. The kitten landed on the notebook of designs and mewed. Sugar sky opened it and stared at the drawings. The dream still stood. It just needed lumber they couldn't yet buy.