52) We Did It!

“You know that sound we heard last night?”

“That knocking that sounded like something was hitting the lift?”

“Yup. You know what it was?”

“Bats? Is there a pile of dead bats under the lift?”

“No. That was the sound of the lift sinking into the ground and the basket getting wedged up against the church.”

“You’re kidding me?!”

“No. I just spent the last 30 minutes trying to get the basket off the window ledge. Had to take the window back out because the basket wouldn’t come down from the ground, I had to get back into it… It scraped all orange paint onto the church windowsill… I spent another thirty minutes scraping that after I got the basket unstuck… unreal…”

“Is everything ok…?”

“I mean yeah… just looks like shit with the orange paint on there…”

“I’m glad that you and the lift and the church are all ok…”

“I guess…”

David sounded stressed. The lift was getting picked up later that day and quite frankly you couldn’t wait until it was off your property. You loved to see it come and you really loved to see it go. The windows were up, they looked beautiful. Now you were just waiting for rain to test if the lift had enabled the leak fix that had been alluding you for nearly a year now.

That afternoon your little city was holding its annual yard sale where families all across the area would haul there treasures (and trash) out to their front yards and garages, little tents and tables staked and weighted; piled high with books and clothing and shoes and household appliances and furniture too.

You and David walked a mile loop, crisscrossing the street, scouring for treasures. You had wanted to find a nice patio set. You were hoping to score the deal of the century on something that you could hoist up into the lift (if it was still there when you got home) and place into the belfry. Beautiful seating. You pictured a little table and chairs and hammocks and outdoor sofa, a glass or two of wine, some fresh grapes from your garden, a good book, a warm afternoon breeze, and a tightly rolled joint.

You managed to find an old nightstand that with a fresh coat of paint would look really nice inside somewhere. It was a dollar and you couldn’t say no to that. The woman laughed when you handed her the money, “That little drawer right there is where I used to stash my weed…”

You didn’t bother telling her that you already had a perfectly good basket for that at home.

On your last stop in one of the nicer neighborhoods you couldn’t say no to a vintage salt and pepper shaker set that resembled an old TV. When you turned the little dial on the side, the salt and pepper shakers would raise up from the little console’s top. You had never set out to collect salt and pepper shakers but you also just couldn’t seem to say no to the really quirky and unique ones you and David would happen across on your treasure trips. So far you had a TV set and two ceramic birds sitting on a branch… you wondered what you’d find next.

When you and David got home, the lift was still there. It was hot outside. The lift was hours overdue to be picked up.

“That would be amazing if they didn’t come today and we get all that rain that they’re forecasting for tomorrow.”

“Right, then if the leak was still leaking you could go back up there on Sunday and we could give it one more go!”

“Exactly.”

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The next morning’s weather could not have been more disparate in comparison to that of Friday’s. The sky was a pallid grey that lacked both warmth and luminosity. There was a steady drizzle coming down on the roof and a cool breeze coming from the open bathroom windows.

The lift had been picked up the day before shortly after you and David got home from yard-saling. That morning you were hesitant to get out of bed. So long as you stayed in the covers, cozy and warm, you could continue to live with the belief that the sanctuary’s roof had indeed been fixed. Getting out of bed and going downstairs to check meant that your current reality… a dry sanctuary ceiling… could be pulled right out from under you, and you weren’t quite ready for that.

Instead you reached for a book and your glasses and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

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“Fucking sanctuary is still leaking…”

It was David, the harbinger of dreadful news.

“You’re kidding me?”

“I wouldn’t joke about that. It’s still leaking. I went into the attic… there wasn’t a drip, so we definitely changed the course of the leak, but the water was trickling down the chimney. We didn’t fix it.”

“Well fuck! Now what? I hate to rent the lift again… It’s getting too expensive to keep bringing it out here and still not having it fixed…”

“Tell me about it. I had an idea though… I’m going to try fixing it from inside.”

“Ok… how are you going to do that?”

“The ladder idea I had a while ago. I’m going to go build a platform up in the attic under the chimney so that I can get a ladder up there. I’m pretty sure that if I can get to the attic roof right next to the chimney that I can sprayfoam the hell out of it and seal the leak. Honestly I hope it works because at that point, if it doesn’t I’m all out of ideas.”

The other day you had suggested getting the lift back out there and disassembling the old defunct chimney from the top up, right down to the roofline, then patching the hole with pressure treated plywood and tarpaper and shingling over the entire thing. You were getting desperate.

David’s idea sounded far less risky, far less expensive, and a lot quicker… and a whole lot more feasible.

“I think it’s a great idea. When are you planning on getting in there and fixing it?”

“I’m going to figure out what I need, take all my measurements, then get up there this afternoon. We’re supposed to get some really heavy rain in two days so hopefully I can get the little platform built, get the repairs made, and some rain to test the work…”

“Welp… I hope this works. I’d really rather we not have to pull the chimney down brick by brick…”

“We?”

“You. I’d rather you not have to pull the chimney down.”

“Me too.”

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That afternoon you watched as David made trip after trip, up and down from the attic and out to his workshop to take measurements then cut plywood and two by fours down to size. The trip was more of a trek. First David would carefully balance on the beams in the attic. It was hot and musty, dreary light partially illuminated the vast attic from the two far ends… four small windows on the far end cast a grey dusky glow that didn’t quite pierce through the entire darkness.

The floor of the attic around the perimeter was a good four feet below the beams that David balanced on. As the beams reached the inner section of the attic the floor sloped up to meet the massive beams that served as both the attic’s and your husband’s supporting structure. The floor of the attic was filled with a thick layer of dingy grey cellulose, pigeon feathers, a few bird carcasses, and some discarded bags of insulation that had been tossed and abandoned within the rafters. There were some old electrical wires and what looked like primitive screens for the attic windows. Above, the attic’s roof soared at least twenty feet at the peak from the attic’s floor. Crisscrossing the space were old wooden and steel beams that were bolted with massive metal pieces the width of your two thumbs. The attic was made up of a vast array of carpentry and metal work that seemed to both simultaneously soar and pull the roof in on itself.

The space was quiet and still. Eerie in a beautiful, mournful type of way. You pictured the sanctuary below, glowing with natural light and the sounds of a long gone choir echoing through the breathtaking white oak ceiling below; traveling heavenward, where it was thwarted and consumed by the hungry attic space, devoid of any of the glory and lavish splendor seen below. Voices and pigeons and praise all diminished in its envious rafters.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Songs to silence.

Now David balanced over the long dead pigeons and the dusty cellulose. Watching him made you nervous. You envisioned a fall that would send him inbetween the supporting beams and through the old oak ceiling and down onto the sanctuary’s floor some 23 feet below. Your palms sweat, your imagination ran wild. You imagined Nik Wallenda crossing Niagara Falls on a steel rope with nothing more than muscle memory, highly developed skill, and a balance pole as a hushed crowd looked on in awe. Surely the onlookers would have felt similar feelings of horror, trepidation, and the abject curiosity that kept them transfixed on the spectacle unraveling before them just as you were now watching David make his way to the back of the attic.

The stakes, much like the leak… felt unnervingly high.

All that afternoon David measured, climbed, crossed, balanced, screwed, nailed, and hammered his way through the day; the stark beige color of the new wood platform slowly materializing, juxtaposing against the near black of the attic’s ancient wood. When he finished he had built a small level platform at the base of the chimney. On each of the long ends he screwed a thick strip of wood to keep a ladder from slipping off the edge and into the rafters below. He then carefully, with the expertise of a man who was no stranger to carrying 80lb solar panels into place on steep metal roofs hoisted the ladder across the rafters and into the depths of the attic where he set it up on the newly constructed platform.

You watched as he climbed, his flashlight in hand swept across the far end of the darkened loft, illuminating the chimney and an old beam that looked to be stained with the blight of at least a decade of water degredation. “This is it over here, I think!” David called across the attic. “I’m pretty sure that if I can get some foam in here, that I can take care of the problem. This could be it, Vaness.”

“Alright then! Let’s get er’ done!” You called back from the safety and steady floor of the belfry bedroom.

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The next day thick grey clouds rolled in, quashing any hopes of a warm, sunny, summer day. This was exactly what you had been waiting for. After the lift leak fix had amounted to nothing more than the fourth disappointment in just as many rentals, you were hopeful that David’s attic interior fix would finally prove to be the answer to a decade old problem.

The two of you waited on edge, checking the local weather page’s radar. When the first few drops of rain began to fall you looked at David, and he at you, neither one of you said a word. Now was the moment you had been waiting for. Not wanting to jinx the fix you busied yourself while David disappeared, headed presumably, into the attic.

When you saw him again the rain was still coming down. You were in the kitchen working on a commissioned piece. You scanned his face for the answer to the question you couldn’t dare ask… this was one of the few times when his face gave nothing away…

“Well,” he finally said… “I don’t want to be preemptive here… but I’m pretty sure that the leak is fixed.”

“WHAT?????!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!” You were off your feet now and you ran to him, throwing your arms around him in a huge embrace.

He squeezed you tight, pulling you into his chest, “I climbed into the attic and the chimney is bone dry… I still won’t feel like it’s a reality until the rain starts coming in harder…”

“Oh stop it! You fixed it! It’s always leaked, regardless of how hard it was raining… and it’s dry now??? YOU FUCKING FIXED IT!!!! OH MY GOD! DAVID YOU DID IT! WE NEED TO CELEBRATE!”

“Well like I said, I’m not celebrating yet but…”

“Well I sure am. And I’ll celebrate twice as hard to make up for your trepidation. Do you realize how big this is? You fixing this…?”

“IF… IF I fixed it… I don’t want to get my hopes up…”

But by the end of the day and a very heavy period of rain the two of you were both celebrating. The attic and chimney remained bone dry. Thousands of dollars in lift rentals and the fix had finally come in the form of some out of the box thinking, scrap wood, and an eight dollar can of spray-foam.

That night David made you both chocolate pistachio martinis that you sipped outside in his workshop as you smoked two thick joints.

“I’m just in such shock. Do you realize what a big deal this is? We literally said before we even moved here that if nothing else, by the time we moved out of this place we wanted to have at least stopped the degredation of the church. Outside of the gutters… we did it. WE DID IT!”

David thought for a minute, “You’re right… I didn’t even really think of that.”

“I did. We set out and achieved our goal pretty much already… the windows this week, huge win… the basement… huge win… that leak in the sanctuary? Massive win. That was just about all of the major issues that were continuing to cause damage here. We only have the gutters left and that’s just a matter of doing, not a matter of figuring it out. We did it David. We did nearly all of it…”

“And we’re just ten days out from being here for a full year…”

“From here on out, all our work will be wants, not needs; general maintenance and cosmetic work. We did it in a year. I’m almost in shock to be honest.”

“Here’s to a wonderful week, and an amazing first year in the church…and here’s to you, David,” you raised your glass and he followed suit; you both took a drink.

“Here’s to us, Vanessa.”

“So we bought an old church… HA! We did it… we did it all. Can you believe it?”

“It still feels like a dream.”

“A really, really, really good dream. Thanks for doing it with me.”

David exhaled a long swirl of smoke, “You’re the only one I’d want to do any of this with. Thank you.”

“Right back atcha, dear.”

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You might not notice it… but we sure do! No more plastic tote bin under the leak over here. No more pet pee pads stuck all over the wall to protect the plaster and molding. It already looks so much better!!!

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I really hope that you have enjoyed reading and following along with our church journey. Like I said, the story will continue - we’re just getting started… moving forward that will be just a bit of a different format and will be part of the subscription story only (click above to subscribe). I’m looking forward to going back and editing, reformatting, etc what we have created and eventually coming back with a tangible book. It’s always been a dream of mine to write an actual story and I thank you all for being a part of that.

While our story is far from over, the one year mark just feels like the right place to leave off (for now). We have so much work to do. We have so many more projects and ideas and adventures to go on. But I know in my heart of hearts, that what we’re doing is what we were always meant to do… Is it because we live in this old church? Is it because we finally just stopped giving a fuck about what other people think we should be doing? Is it because we’ve proved to ourselves what we’re capable of?

Maybe it’s a little bit of everything. Regardless though, we’re so happy to have this opportunity… this has truly been the adventure of a lifetime. Thank you for coming along.