How Green Becomes Wood

Rumy snickered. "True, but black hair is different. It's a pain in the ass is what it is, even more than curly hair, but all curly hair is a pain, even if it is pretty." She heaved a melodramatic sigh. "We suffer so much for beauty!" She grinned at Sloan, teasing her.
 
"Visit my Jewish salon some time, our hair doesn't not have a reputation for being a pain in the ass to manage," Sloan joked, "The term 'Jewfro' exists for a reason. But I suffer less by keeping my hair curly, I've smelled what it takes to straighten it."
 
Rumy laughed. "Good point! Very good point. I know a few other curly-haired people come to my salon. Straight-haired people just don't get it, do they?" She showed Rumy pictures of what she was going to have done to her hair and compared notes on what it was going to take to get it there. She was looking forward to prom and enjoying the last hurrah of youth.

After they'd finished eating, Rumy suggested, "Hey, do you want to come see my place now? Unless you have other things you have to get to."
 
Rumy helped clean up and left a small tip before they headed out. The drive was pretty straightforward, though it did take just a couple of minutes longer than Rumy had estimated, and it took them off the main roads and around to the back of a junkyard. It was not the worst looking junkyard ever, but it was still a junkyard. There was a clearing at the back, and in that clearing stood a small, tidy little grey box on a trailer. A mobile tiny home, clad in grey sheet metal and wood trim around the small windows and simple door. Basic wooden steps led up to the door, and there was a folding chair with an upturned bucket as a table next to it and a small cooler arranged at the front like a little break area.

"Ta-da!" Rumy said proudly, holding her arms out. "My home!"
 
"Yep! All two-hundred and seventy-something square feet of it!" Rumy told her. "It was not easy. Not even a little bit, but it was incredible to do! Most of the stuff I sourced second-hand, but I do have a couple of solar panels I got new, and the sheet metel," she patted the wall, "is new. I got it cheap because apparently, someone ordered it, and it was the wrong color. I did ask for help with the roof because I figured the one thing I do not want is a leaky roof. Want to come inside?"
 
"Thanks. I still have a long way to go, but when it comes to stuff like this, but best way to learn is to muck around and find out," Rumy said.

She let Sloan into the house and showed her around. It didn't take very long with how small it was, and a lot of it wasn't furnished yet. She had some bits and bobs but had only actually finished it a couple of days ago. That was part of the reason why she'd finally chosen to tell Sloan. If the house failed, everything about her plan failed. Finishing the house and testing it out meant that it was really, truly happening. It was a dream come reality! A dream with slightly wonky tiles for a kitchen backsplash and one window curtain longer than the other, but a functioning dream. She'd been telling the truth when she told Sloan she'd known for certain that she had to leave when her mother introduced her to her first potential "husband," but she'd known for some time before that that the only way she could live in any kind of peace, she'd have to find her own place, and to lead the kind of life she wanted to lead, it made more sense to build a place she could take with her rather than go from rental to rental. Her mother... did not approve, so it was easier to not tell her.

Just inside the door was a small space for shoes and a little coat rack. The floors were pine wood, cheap stuff she'd buffed to a shine and sealed, the walls basic painted sheetrock, and the kitchen two small sections of counter made from off-cuts of butcher block, a small, pre-owned stove, a microwave in its own cubby, a tiny fridge, and a sink. A little wood stove stood near the stairs, which had cubbies built into them, and they led up to a loft bed with a reasonable amount of head space on one end of the slope. There was another little loft at the opposite end of the house, accessible by a ladder, and bench seating. Rumy showed Sloan how she could add a third cushion with support next to the two built into the floor and wall, providing a second sleeping bed for company. The tiny bathroom had a small RV toilet, a tiny washing machine with a linen cabinet built in above it, and a bathtub made out of an old (very clean) horse trough with a detachable handheld shower head. Some of the corrugated metal from the exterior was used around the bathtub to make it watertight, and despite how small it was, it was definitely functional and didn't look too uncomfortable. Throughout the house, there were tiny indications that some things weren't done quite right or had to be redone multiple times, but there was a clear indication of thought and care that went into each decision. Nothing had been rushed despite her short time span. Rumy's plan might have been wild, but she was taking it seriously.

"I'm hoping to redo the bathroom someday, and maybe the floors with something more durable. Once I have the money to do those kinds of things," Rumy told Sloan. "I figure I'm going to be spending most of my days out in the pastures and messing about with animals, so I'm okay not having something super pretty, but it is nice to know that I'll be coming home to a place that's really and truly mine."
 
"I'll be glad to have you, but you may be too busy on the ranch," Sloan remarked, "I don't know if you'll have time to think of any of the people you knew from high school."
 
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