Easy, Big Fella

I have two weaknesses, for sure, that I know of.

Each of them involves western clothing stores.

One has to do with long sleeve shirts.

The other has to do with a certain section where paintings are displayed.

And, perhaps in a move better for my finances, I spend more time at the latter.

The paintings intrigue me.

Their cost leaves me speechless.

Through the years, there is one that always arrests my attention.

It’s a picture of an early morning round up; guys are choosing their horses for the day.

In the forefront stands a huge cow horse.

Evidently the horse feels threatened, or knows a long day is ahead, and is letting his intentions be known.

What gets me every time though, is the cowboy at his side.

He stands unruffled, saddle in one hand, and a kind, steady hand on the horse’s shoulder.

All around them is chaos.

But the scene distills down to just those two, and somehow, I know the horse is going to be okay.

And I’ve always sort of envied that guy with his hand on his horse. 

To me, he seems like a real man.

*****

The moon was barely a gibbous sliver in the southwest sky.

The wind, a constant presence, blowing it’s thirty-degree chill right into my bones.

I looked up and saw one lone planet above, and brief smatterings of stars intermittently glimmering through the haze.

In front of me was a 14 x 14 inch junction box that was already partially filled with large ought wire and their corresponding junctions.

We were there, Austin and I, to do an interconnection between our customer’s new solar array and the main service.

We were there late, around ten or so, to do the connection after hours so we didn’t disturb the workday and employees. 

It didn’t help that it was a multimillion-dollar company we were working for.

Neither did it help that, due to unforeseen circumstances, we would need to do our connection, inside that already busy box, live, or in our jargon, ‘hot.’ 

Which means we couldn’t turn the electricity off.

I shivered, but not from the cold.

It looked like it could be a drawn-out job.

I held the light as Austin carefully sorted the existing wiring out.

I watched and listened as he slowly talked himself through the plan.

We wrapped tape around our tools as an extra precaution and set to work.

I observed as Austin, with a surgeon’s precision and steady hand, made his first move.

We did the neutral first, as it was the least loaded of all the conductors.

Next was phase one, which was carrying around 20 amps. 

Blue light flashed around us as it arced while we pulled it from its socket.

It went easily enough.

Next was the wild leg, which was carrying nothing, so no arc, but still a definite injury or death if contacted with our body.

The box was getting fuller, now, and the cold wires stubbornly refused to bend.

After some muscle, the wild leg was done.

Now for the last phase.

This one was carrying more amperage, and, the box seemed soo full.

I had the skitters by this time, and had to take a firm grip on myself when the blue flame leaped out upon disconnect.

Finally, we were ready to reinstall the last leg.

And things happened really went fast for a bit there.

Because it started arcing immediately upon contact with the lug.

This wasn’t good.

If not corrected soon, it would weld itself into a new position that would end in a phase that didn’t carry anything.

And the multimillion-dollar business would grind to a halt.

Austin’s hand flew to push in on it. 

On instinct, my hand jumped to his and pushed down as hard as I could.

We both felt it sink home, and quickly tightened the lug.

I exhaled a shaky sigh and looked upwards, thanking the One who had put His shield between us and a very bad end.

The stars were gone, the moon settled in the west.

Somehow, I like to think that I almost heard, ‘Easy, Big Fella,’ last night, as I saw my son’s steady, sure hand against all the pent-up energy, and maybe, the same kind of men that observed that chaotic morning scene and mastered it in that long ago picture may still take their place among men today.

Here’s a link to the authors site if you wish to view the painting.

Easy Big Fella – Clark Kelley Price