Wesley Weyandt's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

Wesley woke Friday to a truck in the drive. He had two days of work to do before Katie came at sundown, and the light was already gray on the shutters. He pulled his boots on and went out expecting the mail carrier. It was not the mail carrier. It was a man from down the road with his boy in the cab. The man wanted to see the wolf. Word had traveled fast. Wesley walked him to the barn and lifted the tarp. The boy stared. The man asked how far the shot had been. Wesley answered short. He walked them back to the truck and shook the man's hand. By noon there had been four more. A woman with a pie. Two brothers who wanted a photograph. An older man who said he had lost lambs to that wolf in the first season and just wanted to look at the body. Wesley let every one of them into the barn. Every one of them stayed longer than he could spare. He stood on the porch at one o'clock and looked at his list. Fix the rail. Nail the loose board. Sweep the porch. Buy coffee. He had done none of it. The shepherd sat at his knee and watched the road. Another truck slowed at the mailbox. Wesley set his jaw. He went inside and came back with a sheet of paper and a nail. He wrote in black pencil, big enough to read from a truck. WOLF IN THE BARN. LOOK YOURSELF. DO NOT KNOCK. He walked to the end of the drive and nailed it to the post. He propped the barn door open with a rock. He set a bucket beside it for anyone who wanted to leave a coin. Then he went back to the porch and did not answer the door again. He fixed the rail. He nailed the board. He swept. He drove into town for coffee and beans and came back and washed at the pump. Twice he heard trucks pull in and idle and leave. The shepherd stayed on the porch with him and did not bark once. By the time the sun sat low on the tree line, the bucket had six coins in it and the barn door was still propped open. The house was ready. Not finished. Ready. He was on the top step when the dark gray car turned in. Katie got out with a paper bag in one hand and a jar of wildflowers in the other. She wore the black lace top and the jeans with the rips. She looked at the sign on the post, then at him, then at the bucket. "You charging admission," she said, flat. "Donations," Wesley said. She climbed the steps and set the flowers on the rail he had just fixed. "Smart." She looked at the porch. "You brought coffee?" "I brought coffee." She sat down beside him. The shepherd rested its chin on her knee. Wesley let his shoulders drop for the first time all day.