It had been a fairly dull summer when Dad decided to replace the huge garage door. The old one barely rose on the tracks and the old motor could barely pull the full width door after years of service.
Dad had tinkered with the old one for a few years to keep it working rather than spending money on a new one when the house needed other things first. Mom was the only one that parked in there and the day she was late to work because the door wouldn't work was the day Dad had to replace it. It wasn't just the money of a new door and opener that discouraged Dad; although the man had built racecars, airplanes, boats, and most anything else, the garage door stymied him. John and I learned all the swear words there were, plus every colorful way to arrange them when helping him "fix" the old door.
John was my cousin but he was like another brother and his mother and father expected him to help my Mom and Dad when they needed something. Besides, everyone knew the learning experiences (other than the language lessons) were valuable for future life encounters. John and I were "told" the night before that he'd need our help "tomorrow" taking down the old door and installing the new door.
John, sitting there at the dinner table boldly asked,
"Uncle Bob? Are you gonna get all crazy and pissed off? Because if you are, I don't wanna be around for this."
Normally, around our dinner table, the Blacker crew, with one guest, would make a racket clanging forks and scraping spoons chasing seconds in bowls... suddenly, it was so quiet we could hear the dog in the other room groan softly knowing "Uncle Bob" might soon explode!
In a concession that was rare, Dad admitted that something about garage doors escaped him and he'd only ask John and me to help with the heavy parts... and then we could go.
Mom chimed in,
"I'll supervise so there won't be any bullying of you boys!"
Dad's eyes turned red with rage, but she had called the play. Something about that garage door had come between Dad and Mom... something told me Dad was "cut off" (although it took me 20 years to understand how Mom had him "cut off").
The next morning, Dad was barking out orders for us to get up and down ladders to do this and that until Mom, the foreman showed up. The tone changed and soon, the old door, track system, and opener were laying in a heap off to the side of the garage. Mom and Dad scooted off to Sears after giving us 10 bucks for lunch and definite orders to be back at 1 o'clock when they'd be back with the new stuff.
John and I pocketed the money and went in and cleared out the 'fridge.
Soon, they were back and we were unloading stuff and unboxing a door, track system, and... they told us to get lost!
Two boys on two bikes hurled gravel going down the alley!
I got smart and had dinner at John's house!
It was still light out on a summer evening around 8 when we rolled softly down the alley. Dad was there... on a ladder... adjusting this and tweaking that. He crawled off the ladder and pushed the shiny new button and the garage door rolled down the tracks and over the curve... and then lurched, and creaked, and bound... the track system squealed; the support bracing bowed.
"Let's get out of here", I told John.
He was already ripping down the alley and not looking back.
I followed and caught up him with a few miles later when he slowed down feeling it was safer.
"Man? Did you see THAT? I mean, what's up with your Dad? He can build airplanes! But get him around a garage door, and he's brainless!"
"I dunno, John. Can I sleep at your house tonight?"
"Yeah... sure. But, I want to know....", and we talked about it all as we rolled slowly and softly back to my house, late.
When we got back, the door was closed.
It looked like a buffalo had rammed it.
A corner of one panel looked like a beaver had chewed on it.
Another section had a long gouge and wrinkle in it.
We slipped quietly into the basement and collected some stuff to do at his house.
We slipped back out as quietly as we slipped in.
A couple of days later, on Monday, we got back to the house while Dad was at work.
"Maaaaaaaaaan... Deeee-Zaster!"
I walked around the garage and came in from the far end and punched the button. The door raised smoothly and returned back softly when I pushed the button again.
"Wow!"
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