The Boys on the Levee

Tap. Tap. Tap. The hammer lifts across the tin roof of the old homeplace, as Emery, Everett, Haldean, and Paul set to place another roof. Buddy puts a nail in the thin of his lips, and start slamming the hammer across the old roof. The sky is grey, and his thin leather workboots sit just right on the rooftop to keep him from sliding down the slope. Emerett stands up, and taps his foot down a bit, checking the footing of the awning. "Think this thing will stand up another twenty years?" he asks, looking to Paul. He's busy, small talking his way to lunch, trying to get another roof down before the rain. He lifts his hammer and points to the old pick-up truck in the driveway. It's isn't a town car, and Paul grins, because he knows he's setting a roof for a buddy. He waves the boys on, to keep slamming the hammer, in the meantime, as he chats with the lady of the manor. "What's it about?" he asks her. She sways a bit in the wind, like a wooden storm door across an awning, as a small child steps out of the doorway and grins. She's not wearing any shoes, and her crown of golden curls is a mess, and she tugs at her mother's apron a bit, lifting her trembling bottom lip. She's been hit, there's no man in the house, and the roof is falling in. The woman slides her palm across her crown and pulls her closer, as she stutters through a few long-winded answers to her problem.