Peewee

by Donna Schoenkopf

After three years of daydreaming about my retirement and where I would live (I swear it was like having a boyfriend. That’s ALL I could think about!) the time had finally come to make my dreams come true.

I wanted the cheapest place possible. I had a small lump sum I could withdraw from my teacher’s retirement and, coupled with a whole bunch of extra work I’d done for three years (Saturday School, After School Tutoring, Substituting on vacation time), I had in the neighborhood of slightly more than $60,000. I couldn’t afford ANY house payments, so I decided to build a house in the country—Oklahoma was cheapest in the nation—on as much land as I could afford, and have it be as environmental as possible. I couldn’t afford solar. ($50,000 was the cheapest quote I could get and Oklahoma can rain A LOT.) I looked into windmills because Oklahoma sits in a super duper wind channel from North Dakota to Texas, but that was again ... $50,000. And Oklahoma doesn’t cut a break for anyone, tax-wise. So my DESIGN had to be as environmental as possible.

I would make the house one big room so air could circulate, because hot humid climates cool easiest with moving air. I would make the house long and narrow, with the wide sides facing north and south. This would allow the sun, being low in the winter, to send its warming rays into my house and, being high in the summer, NOT send its warming rays through my windows. I would have the southern wall be sliding glass doors to allow air flow, and ditto on the east and west walls. I would have venting in the roof. I would have cement floors as a way of capturing heat in the winter and cooling the house in the summer. I would shade the house with deciduous trees so that the summer would be cool, and when winter came, the leaves would be gone and I could capture the sunlight.

I discovered metal buildings. Cheap. Easily insulated. No termite problems.

Now. Who would build it?

On a pre-move visit, I sat down with the Tarons, a family I’d known in my teenage years. The Tarons had come from FRANCE!, papa Taron had started an actual vineyard and there were eleven, I think, original kids. There were Tarons everywhere. They had become important in town. They were entrepreneurs, doctors, the mayor. The Tarons rocked.

They suggested I contact Denis, also known as Peewee, to do the work. They said he could do anything, and they were right.

So I called him up and we decided to meet at my property, which, it turned out, was four miles from his property, as the crow flies. He knows the area well. He’s been out there for thirty-five years.

On a hot Monday morning, I stood on the gravel county road to my property and heard the sound of many wheels on rock and then his maroon pickup drove up, with a huge trailer on the back. Out stepped Peewee. He wore jeans, sunglasses, boots, a long-sleeved shirt. And a smile.

Peewee is the happiest, most positive person I know. Every time I’ve asked for something he’s said it was no big thing and could be done in a) 20 minutes, b) half a day or c) no time at all. And so far he’s been right. Yesterday he called to check in and asked how I was and I said great and he said, “Ain’t life grand? When I die it will take three days to get the taffy off my face.” Whatever that means.

Everybody knows him. And respects him. Phillip, the rural electric guy, knows him. Said Peewee had built the biggest “cooker” he’d ever seen. That it could hold the equivalent of two cars’ worth of meat, had gauges, and was transportable. You could tell Peewee was something of a legend.

photo: Carlos Paes

At nine on the appointed morning I heard Peewee’s truck come down the county road, and there he was with his bulldozer on his trailer. Wasting no time, he hopped on the dozer, backed it down, drove to where we had said we wanted the drive and, hesitating not even a moment, pushed into the trees. Trees fell left and right, roots in the air, driveway of red, red earth emerging from the tangle of the forest. How did he know I wanted a beautiful curving driveway? He brought out his chain saw which had a long handle and began trimming. What was left was an enchanted red road through green. When I told him how it was the most beautiful driveway I had ever seen, he laughed and said that anyone could put in a STRAIGHT driveway.

The trees had been easier to push over than usual, Peewee said. Because Oklahoma had had four months of constant rain, the roots of the trees were loose and as easy as a two dollar hooker. Hmmmmm. I’m starting to sound like a country person.

So I had a driveway! The raw, uncivilized land, which had never known a human master, had been tamed with the push of Peewee’s bulldozer. Bulldozers rock!

That was my introduction to Peewee. A man who could rassle trees, climb mountains, tame the wild, all with his bulldozer.

Comments

No comments.

Comments closed.