I Can't. I Won't. I Don't.

"I'm between jobs right now. But I have a business, sales, and technology background."

"So how do you know about plumbing?"

"Always liked working with my hands. I'd rather fix it myself if I could rather than farm everything out to others. Plumbing, electrical, woodworking, small engines, even appliances. It's amazing what's on YouTube. If I can't figure it out I call someone before I bugger it up."

"What are you running from? Not the law, I hope."

"Pretty perceptive, Herb. No. Not the law. My fiancée dumped me. I needed a change."

"Ouch. Were you running around and stuff?"

Noah smiled. Then grimaced in pain again. "Nope. I was 100% true blue. I thought we would grow old together. She just...I guess she just changed her mind."

"That sucks. Let's get your stuff." They gathered up the parts and the two talked about a variety of things. Noah paid for it.

"Nice to meet you, Herb. This seems like a great town. I'll have to get used to the altitude, though. Heck. I thought I was in pretty good shape but I huff and puff just walking up a flight of steps."

"Oh, you'll get used to it in no time. I don't know if you cook, but you'll have to adjust your times and stuff. Water boils quicker, you know.

"But, it's a great town. Gets a little swamped with tourists for skiing and summer activities, but if you like the outdoors....This is the place for you. Say, you said you were between jobs, right?" Noah nodded. "Well, I need help. Last guy who worked here didn't know his ass from...well, you know. You seem to know your way around, my wife's been feeling pretty puny of late and it would sure help me out."

"I hadn't really thought about it, Herb. But I think I'm going to stay in town a while, and this might be a good change for me. I need something to do or I'll go stir crazy. What if I let you know in the morning?"

"Great, hope to see you then."

Noah started walking down the street, turned around, walked right back in and said, "I'll take it. When do I start?"

"You could start right now, but you've got to fix that sink before lunch. Why don't you just get here at 8 tomorrow morning, OK? No special clothes or anything. But no suits, business man." And he winked at him. "And no trying to scare the kids with the way you look." And he laughed.

He took his own packing out. It started falling out anyway. Damn! Feels like I'm pulling my brains out with it. Probably am. Stitches out day 5, splint off day seven. The colors were fading from dark to yellow and the blood was slowly disappearing from his eyes. He could smile and laugh again although it felt real tight and didn't move right.

The job went well. He enjoyed it. Enjoyed helping folks solve their problems. They truly were the only show in town so within two weeks he had met most of the commercial guys and many of the town's folk. And he noted one common complaint...

"Herb? There's a problem with the store"

"Here two weeks and you're telling me after 30 years in business how to run my business?"

"Yes. Yes I am. The problem is our hours. We open at eight, but the commercial guys want to pick up all their stuff at 7 so they can start work at eight. The regular folks can't get here by five when we close because they have to work.

Plus, Saturday and Sunday are when they do their Mr. Fix-it stuff and we're closed. I know from my own fix-it stuff, that I frequently have to run back out to get something. Heck, sometimes I had to run out several times." And he laughed.

"So, what if we stay open seven to seven, 'til five on Saturday and for a while Sunday. One of us could come in early, the other work late. I could work the weekends and take Monday off. If it looks like it's working, we could hire another person. If I've got it all wrong, then we just go back to how it was."

"I see a lot of overtime..."

"Put me on a salary. That way the hours won't matter. What do you think?"

"Let's do it! But, to pay you a salary, I'll have to make you assistant manager or something..."

"Great. Do I get a special shirt or something?"

"Yes," sarcastically. "You can get a special shirt." They laughed.

The customers responded enthusiastically. Business and satisfaction were booming. Noah loved it.

They hired another employee. A young woman, Carla, straight out of technical high school who'd been working with her dad for years and knew as much as either of them. Perky, enthusiastic, personable. The perfect combination. Another problem solver.

The customers loved her and after a few months she suggested adding the ability to order ahead and with Noah's help they created a website.

Business took another jump and they hired another person and started a delivery service for large orders, and for a few folks who were home bound or what not.

The store was busy. He was busy, but he still found time to workout every day at the fitness center and hike all the surrounding areas. His breathing got easier. Almost always alone. He stayed as busy as he could. Tried to be exhausted at the end of each day. But the nights...

As soon as he shut his eyes and tried to quiet his mind, the pain, the loss, the emptiness....the look in Ava's eyes as she hit him...He hated the nights. Oh, how he hated the nights.

As Fall approached, Herb stopped him one day. "Noah? Didn't you say you liked wood working?"

"Yea. I've made a bunch of little stuff, did refinishing and repairs..."

"Ever use a lathe?"

"Nope. Never had the opportunity. I always loved the stuff I saw at craft shows, but never had the chance. Why?"

"Well, I have a full shop in like a garage in the back yard. I have all sorts of stuff. Everything you can imagine. I don't use the stuff as much as I used to, what with my wife and all, but you're welcome to use it whenever you want. If you clean up after yourself, of course.

"But I think you would like the lathe. Why don't we skip out of here early and I'll show you how to do it. Pretty simple really. Hardest part is getting your tools sharp."

He tried it and fell in love. Every free moment was spent turning wood. He was a natural. Bowls, boxes, pens, bottle stoppers, mushrooms. Many were combined with bark, branches, and other things he found in the woods.

But then he made a Christmas ornament and another world opened up. All shapes and sizes; painted, stained, dyed, natural, burnt; ornaments inside of ornaments; Christmas trees, snowmen, birdhouses, gnomes. He could lose himself in what he was doing. In the zone. And not think about the memories that threatened to crush him.

Finally, "Noah. You're going to have to get some of these things out of my work shop. Why don't you bring some to the hardware store and see if they sell." He did and they sold out in just a few days. Other stores in town wanted to carry his creations on a consignment basis.

He sold most all of what he made, but kept his favorites for himself. But he wanted it to be fun. Not a second job. To be art rather than production work. So supplies were limited.

He was promoted to manager of the hardware and newly expanded power tool section. Carla became assistant manager, Herb ran the lumber yard and commercial orders. Noah rented a house with a garage that he stocked with a lathe, power tools, and all the stuff he needed to create.

He was busy. And tried to stay busy. As soon as he would stop, as soon as his mind or body would become quiet, the pain, emptiness, loneliness, and, yes, the bitterness returned and tried to overwhelm him. He had no social life.

His sleep was still plagued with nightmares about how it must have been for Ava, his mind imagining all types of horrible scenarios. And he was never there to help her. Too weak, too late, too whatever. And then nightmares of all types of tortures and punishments for his failure to protect her.

But each month, good old Noah transferred money from his local bank account to his North Carolina bank account, and from there into their old joint account to pay his traditional half of the apartment expenses.

He sent Christmas, birthday, Mother's Day, Father's Day and other cards to his folks by sending them to his old boss who then mailed them locally. Each one saying he hoped they were doing well and not to worry because he was doing fine.

Spring came around again when Carla approached him. "OK, Mr. Manager. There is a big dance at The Barn tonight and we young, fun loving, folk need an old guy to chaperone us. You have to come. There'll be dancing. The band is decent. I can introduce you to some older women?"

"Carla. Are you putting the moves on me?"

"You! Please. No way. I want some edgy, no good, dangerous guy with a motorcycle who'll use me and piss my folks off."

"Really?

"No. I wish I could. I'd like to be 'the bad girl' at least once. I wish I could just go wild and not worry about the consequences, but I can't. Actually, I'd like a guy just like you, Noah. Only about a decade younger..."

"Ouch! I just turned 30, not eighty."

"You ass! When was your birthday?"

"About a month ago."

"Why didn't you tell me, us? I could have gotten one of those big old sheet cakes with room enough for all those candles." They both laughed.

"No. I'd like a guy just like you. Kind, considerate, you listen. You make me laugh all the time. You're worldly and know a lot without throwing it in peoples' faces. Hell, everyone in town loves you.

"And you're handsome enough, I guess. And built like some football player or something now. You were kinda flabby when I first started work at the store." He shook his head and laughed at her.

"But I want a guy with a straight nose. A guy who'd snuggle with me in bed and spoon me as I sleep. You make all this noise with your nose when you work hard and you'd be like having one of those 500 pound hogs you see down on the flat lands snorting next to me all night. A girl has to get her beauty rest, you know.

"And whenever I think of kissing you...Hell. It'd be like kissing my brother or something."

"So please, Carla. Tell me how you really feel."

"So, despite all those issues, you have to come to the dance. Noah, you haven't been out with anyone. Female, male, or otherwise. You haven't even gone out with any of my slutty friends who are practically flopping on their backs here at the store.

"And that doesn't even include the widows, divorced women, and those who act like their divorced but aren't.

"All the girls in town are getting excited just thinking about you. They harass me all day long. What's he like? Is he nice? Is he seeing anyone? Heck, I'm about to put out an auto response or something.

"You have to understand. This is a small town, so all the girls have dated all the guys we went to school with and now everyone's looking for some fresh meat. Some 'strange' as you Southern boys say.

"So come. Please! Do it for a friend. Be there at eight."

"Whoa, Big City. They dance pretty good in North Carolina. Every girl here has the hots for you. Who do you want to meet?" A pained look filled his face.

"I'm sorry, Carla. I have to..."

"Shit! There're tears in your eyes! And don't tell me it's from your accident or whatever. You're coming with me." She grabbed his arm and dragged away from the people and into the trees outside.

"OK. Spill! What the hell happened to you? We all know there's a hole in you or something. Herb, Emma, our dumbass delivery guy. All happy go lucky on the outside and about to crawl into the darkness on the inside. What is it? Maybe I can help you, Big Bro. Please? Talk to me!"

And so he talked, and cried, and talked some more. Carla cried and held him as he let it all out. "Oh my God, Noah. I never imagined. How awful. I wish I could say I know how you feel, but I don't think I could have made it. I'd have buried myself in a snow bank or something. Not that you should do anything like that. Shit, what am I saying.

"My poor, Noah. If you were a woman, this would have helped a lot. Would have been cathartic or something. Big word, right? But being a man....I didn't make it worse, did I, Noah? I'm sorry if I did. The last thing in the world I would ever want to do is cause you more pain." The tears rolled down her cheeks anew.

"No, Carla. It didn't make it worse. It's probably even a little better. Thanks for letting me dump it on you. I haven't really had anyone to talk to about it. Well, no one since it happened."

"What about your folks? That girl, Emily?"

"It's complicated."

"Oh, that's a bull shit response. They say that in the movies. You know your family would help you. They probably feel awful. You need to call them and let them know you're OK. Or pretty much OK."

"No. Not ready for that. Yet. I send them cards...I think I have to go. Sorry to ruin your evening, Carla. It was fun."

She hugged him long and hard. "Remember. You have a family here and a family there. We all love you. Hell, most of the folks in town have met you and like you. Especially the widows," and she winked.

"I get great feedback, except for the females who are frustrated that you don't have an eye for them. But even they will do anything they can to help. You just need to open the door a crack and let us in. Please?"

"I'll work on it. Please don't share any of this, alright? I would rather have people wonder about me than pity me. And I'm doing fine. Or at least pretty good. It's only at night. Only at night when I'm snoring like a 600 lb. boar..." they both laughed.

"Let's go to our cars. No more dancing for me tonight. Thanks for sharing and letting me get my foot in your door."

As Spring came around again, the hotel and construction companies had already settled for a few million dollars each since their employees were responsible. Better to settle than go to a jury. The perpetrators were named, but they had no assets. So it was pointless.

The criminal trial was scheduled to start in less than a week. Ava was getting more and more nervous. "God I wish Noah were here to help me through this."

Emily's mouth popped open and a shock looked filled her face. "What? What did you say? I don't think you've even mentioned his name since the day he left. It's like you erased him."

She burst into tears. "I know! I know. I've been so wrong headed. My nightmares about that night have been replaced by nightmares about what I've done to Noah. The look on his face when I hit him. I actually felt good about doing it. What the fuck was wrong for me?

"When I was injured he did everything for me and never asked for anything in return. And I shut him out. Punished him everyday. i didn't even think about how this might have affected him.

"And now he's gone. His mom says his cards say he's OK, but he's not, Emily. I know it. You know it too. He's not OK.

"And now I need his strength, his support to go to the trial. My attorney and the prosecutors say they are going to crucify me up there. Try to break me. I don't know if I can do it.

"It's bad enough that I'll have to relive every tiny detail, but....without Noah? Emily, you're going to be on the stand as well. How are we going to do it?

"And Emily, there's a big hole in me. A big hole where Noah used to be. I miss him. It's been a year. When this is over, I have to find him. I have to make sure he's doing alright.

"You know he's still sending money every month to pay his share of this apartment? That's one of the reasons I haven't moved out. Staying here makes me feel closer to him."

She started crying and Emily joined her as they hugged. "Oh, Emily. What am I going to do?"

The doorbell rang. "What a way to wreck a moment." She mopped her eyes with her sleeve. "Who the heck can that be?"

"Special delivery for Ava. Is that you?" She nodded. "Please sign here. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"I wonder what this is? Wait there're two packages in here. One for me and one for you, Emily." Ava opened hers. A foot tall great horned owl. Partially turned and partially carved. Then hand painted. "Oh, my God. This is beautiful. Look at the workmanship. The details. What's in yours, Emily?"

It was a foot tall angel with large very thin wings that partially enveloped her. "Look at this, Ava. Who could have sent us these? Is there a card?" She fumbled through all the peanuts and packing material and extracted a card with a hand written note.

'Read about the upcoming trial. These are to help both of you. The angel will guide your course and keep you safe. The owl will keep you strong and wise. Good luck. You can do it Ava. Go get those bastards. Noah.'

Ava burst into tears. "He's still looking out for me. I need to find him, Emily." She carefully checked the packages. No address. No sign of which company had made these. Maybe she could trace them back to Noah that way, somehow.

"Holy shit, Ava. Turn your owl upside down and look at the bottom. 'Made by Noah Grimes.' Noah made these. They're amazing. He never did anything like this before, did he?" Ava shook her head. "Maybe we can find out where he is by researching his art. These are done on some kind of machine. I wonder if your dad knows what kind."

They both dove in and looked up Noah on the computer with a variety of search terms. His football career at high school and college, graduation things, various talks he'd given while working, his Linked In account.

No social media accounts they could find. Nothing current. Nothing that could steer them to him. They even tried the 'find anyone in ten minutes' site, but all it found was the apartment Ava was living in.

They tried legal records, arrest records, court records, even marriage records for a number of states. Nothing.

"When the trial is over, I'm going to find him no matter what it takes."

Ava's attorney and the prosecutor had tried a number of simulations to try and get her ready for taking the stand. Each one reduced her to a sobbing mess.

"Ava. If the district attorney is going to be able to get these guys, you have to hold it together. It's OK to cry, but you can't become a blubbering mess. Their attorney will be trying to trip you up. Over and over. Poke holes in your testimony. Get you to change your story. Let's stop here and try again tomorrow."

Next day as he put her on the simulated, elevated seat and started grilling her with nonstop questions. She teared up, but responded in a calm, rational voice."

"What the hell, Ava? What happened?" She showed him photos of the owl and angel.

"Will I be able to have these with me? They give me strength, courage, clarity."

"Yes, although the attorneys and judge may want to take a look at them."

The trial was brutal. She spent a full day on the stand, even though once she got hit in the head, her recollections were vague. Everything was crystal clear and with the owl and angel she stayed strong. So did Emily.

They claimed she was willing, but the broken finger nails and fingers, and flesh under what was left of her nails, and the evidence that she had been hit in the head two or three times clinched it. All three were convicted. Two with lengthy jail terms. The third as an accessory.

"Dad, how were these made?" Her dad looked at the owl and angel.

"The angel was made on the lathe and probably a band saw or coping saw used to cutout the wings. The owl probably started on the lathe, but then mostly hand carved. Why?"

"Noah sent these to Emily and I before the trial. They saved me. I was hoping I could use them to find him. Thanks."

She went back to the apartment and typed in "Noah Grimes" and lathe and art. There was an article in a local paper describing the Christmas ornaments and other creations of a Noah Grimes. Lots of info on his lathe work, incredible, but no pictures of him or info on where he lived.

But the local paper mentioned Herb's Hardware and Lumber. She looked it up on line and found their website. There were pictures and a job description. 'Noah Grimes, Manager of Hardware and Power Machinery.'