A Simple Order

Ted was pissed. He held the tape measure up to the beams. One was ten feet, two inches. The other was four feet, three inches. This was not even close to the specifications in the order. And this was the third time John had screwed this same order up. This wasn't exactly rocket science. Measurements had been taken and the order was very clear. Two beams. One eleven feet. One six feet. How in hell had John confused ten feet, two inches with eleven feet? Or four feet three inches with six feet? And not once, but three times?

It would have been bad enough if John had cut the beams too long. That would have wasted valuable timber, but at least it would have been correctable. You can always cut beams shorter. You can't cut beams longer.

Ted couldn't understand what was going on with John. Yes, John was only an apprentice, but he was usually very careful. Now suddenly he couldn't make the simplest measurements.

And to make matters worse, they were rapidly coming up against the deadline. The order had been very specific. It would be picked up Thursday morning at 7:00 AM.  Precisely. Delays would not be tolerated. The idea of screwing up this order made Ted sweat. He knew what "would not be tolerated" meant.

As if the measurement problem wasn't bad enough, Ted now saw another problem with the beams. The larger beam had rotted almost all the way through. The order clearly specified that the beams had to support 200 pounds. For beams of this size, that should have been a no-brainer, but not when one beam was almost completely rotted.

In disgust, Ted put his foot through the rotted beam. John looked at him sheepishly. "That beam was perfect," he said, "and I know I measured it right."

Ted ignored him. "This lumber is coming out of your pay," Ted growled. "Now just help me get this done right."

In only thirty minutes the order would be picked up. Ted measured and marked two more beams. He checked the blade on the table saw and started to feed the first beam through.

The saw blade disintegrated on contact with the beam. Now Ted was starting to freak out. He got a brand new blade and put it on the table saw. As soon as the new blade touched the beam, it too disintegrated.

Ted heard a convoy pulling up outside. He had no choice but to nail the two beams together, despite the fact that they weren't even close to the correct measurements. This was a disaster.

Outside, soldiers were banging on the door of the shop. Ted opened the door and they pushed him aside. The commander took one look at the beams and spat. "This is wrong, completely wrong!"

Ted said nothing.

"It's too late to redo this. We'll have to take it as it is. But I promise you, you haven't heard the end of this."

Two of the soldiers dragged the beams to the truck. Just before getting in the jeep, the commander turned back to Ted. His purple tunic caught the wind and the sun reflected off of his immaculately polished helmet. For an instant, he looked like an angry God. "What the hell is wrong with you people," he said, "can't you build a simple cross?"

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Spiritual questions:

• In what ways does your country resemble ancient Rome?
• How do you support this?
• How are you called to resist this?

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This is one of the Parables for the Spiritual but not Religious Series.

July 12, 2019 - This was written with the Roundhouse Writing Group in Santa Cruz, Guatemala, remotely from Guanajuato, Mexico. The writing prompt for the session was: Measurements had been taken.

The photograph of the tape measure is by Cadt Mitchell and made available through Creative Commons, some rights may be reserved.

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