In October Dad won a contract to build industrial granaries in Malad

City, the dusty farm town on the other side of Buck’s Peak. It was a big
job for a small outfit—the crew was just Dad, Shawn, Luke, and
Audrey’s husband, Benjamin—but Shawn was a good foreman, and
with him in charge Dad had acquired a reputation for fast, reliable
work.

Shawn wouldn’t let Dad take shortcuts. Half the time I passed the
shop, I’d hear the two of them shouting at each other, Dad saying
Shawn was wasting time, Shawn screaming that Dad had damned near
taken someone’s head off.

Shawn worked long days cleaning, cutting and welding the raw
materials for the granaries, and once construction began he was
usually on-site in Malad. When he and Dad came home, hours after
sunset, they were nearly always cussing. Shawn wanted to
professionalize the operation, to invest the profits from the Malad job
in new equipment; Dad wanted things to stay the same. Shawn said
Dad didn’t understand that construction was more competitive than
scrapping, and that if they wanted to land real contracts, they needed
to spend real money on real equipment—specifically, a new welder and
a man lift with a basket.

“We can’t keep using a forklift and an old cheese pallet,” Shawn said.
“It looks like shit, and it’s dangerous besides.”

Dad laughed out loud at the idea of a man basket. He’d been using a
forklift and pallet for twenty years.

—

I WORKED LATE MOST NIGHTS. Randy planned to take a big road trip to