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#63 The Best View by John Pagliassotti

Just minutes before, Frank had entered the steel labyrinth through its belly. The small opening that the mammoth skeleton of rebar, angle iron and metal tube offered was a stark contrast to its immense proportions. Imagining that this gargantuan framework of iron could move from the confines of the warehouse where it rested took effort. Yet Frank was responsible for doing just that. When he entered the great work, he crawled to his cockpit that rested at the front of the huge structure. There he found a small fiberglass seat. The throw pillow he brought along was the only creature comfort he would enjoy on his brief journey on this early Tuesday morning.

From the small rectangular opening just inches in front of Frank’s face, he saw the first smile. It was his only view of the outside world from inside the dark cavernous cab he occupied. The young boy was no more than 8 years old. His face, sandwiched between a wool scarf and cap, was beaming. From his grandpa’s lap the little lad pointed his finger and with awe;“wow” fell softly from his lips. Nothing captured this moment more powerfully then the look of pure amazement on a child’s face. The boy’s eyes grew as big as pie plates when the pump behind Frank shot its first blast of water high 60 feet into the air. This time the “wow” did not fall from the boy’s lips; it shot with as much intensity as the blast of water that solicited such a reaction.

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