The phone was ringing. But it was the middle of the night. Must be an emergency. I rolled out of bed to answer it. It was someone in an agitated state for sure. When he right away asked me what my log buildings cost I figured him for a nutcase. I told him anyway. I wanted to get back to bed. He said Ok but he’d need two. Sure he did. He’d pay me tomorrow. Sure he would. I quickly gave him the banking particulars. I wanted to get back to bed. The next morning it was there. He had his site, pretty one too. He needed it built right away. He was leaving for Libya as the Canadian Ambassador. It came out later he was dying and wanted to provide a place for his family, hence, no time to waste. Which, it seems, was his usual agenda, at least with me anyway. The crew set off and we had the building framed in lickity-split. He was as happy as he could be, under the circumstances. We never saw him after the house was finished. It was years later when he showed at my door with his new bride from Libya. No, it wasn’t in the middle of the night. And he wasn’t dead. Nope. Turned out a Naturopath defeated his terminal whatever with an alternative treatment. He left the kids the house. He thanked me profusely and hurried away.