Thankful Thomas's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The eight dishes sat hot on the counter. Thomas looked from the food to his cramped kitchen and shook his head. Six chairs. No table long enough for the spread or the crowd. He pictured his guests standing in the yard, plates balanced on their knees. That would not do. He had promised them a full table to gather around. He stepped outside and walked past his cold yard oven, thinking hard. Down by the water he spotted an open pavilion. Its wide roof stood on tall wooden posts. No walls to box anyone in. Its floor was long and flat, big enough for his whole crowd. Thomas grinned. He had his place. Now he needed a table to fill it. He had no boards long enough. But he knew where wood waited. He walked to the old sawmill and pushed the heavy door open. Dust hung in the air. A great wheel with red spokes stood still in the middle. Along one wall leaned a stack of cut planks, gray with age but straight and sound. Thomas ran his hand down one. Solid. Long. Enough for a table that could seat them all. He loaded the planks onto his cart, three at a time. His back ached and his breath came short, but he kept going. He hauled the wood to the pavilion and laid the planks side by side across two sawhorses he found in the mill. He nailed cross braces underneath to hold them tight. He worked with the sun dropping low. Splinters bit his palms. He wiped them on his apron and drove the next nail. By the time the light turned gold, the table stretched the length of the pavilion floor. Thomas pressed his hands on it and leaned. It held. He shook one end. It did not wobble. Long enough for eight dishes down the middle. Long enough for every guest with room to spare. He carried the food down from the cottage, dish by dish. The turkey went first, brown and heavy, set at the center. Then the pies, the squash, the stuffing, the potatoes. He lined them along the boards. Steam still rose from a few. Under the open roof, by the calm water, the long table finally held his whole feast. Thomas stepped back and let out a slow breath. The space was solved. The food was solved. He looked at the empty benches on both sides and thought of his guests filling every seat. Then he saw the sky. The sun was nearly gone. His guests would arrive at any minute, and they had no idea to come here instead of the cottage. The table waited. The people did not know where to find it.