Betting Against the Storm

Posted: February 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

A roofer drove his old pickup down a typical American suburb town that usually saw one or two light rains each year. Homeowners had grown accustomed to the rare occasion and considered clouds as mere passing shade. As he kept his vehicle reasonably close to the 25mph limit, it occurred to him that the wind had grown to the point of lifting loose shingles on the roofs that had seldom been bathed by drops of water for more than 5 minutes, a couple times a year. Having been in his trade for many years, he knew that it was only a matter of time until hundreds in town would wish they had paid attention to the flyers he’d left on their doorsteps, instead of adding them to the recycle bin and automatically betting against the storm. He wanted to knock on doors and plead for people to let him look at their roofs, in an attempt to protect all the treasures beneath, but had more than enough times been turned away by those who deemed his service as unneeded. Months & months of sunshine had baked the town’s roofs to a crisp. It wasn’t so much the drive for financial prosperity and gain that fed his push to keep the rain out of others’ homes, but the burning desire to see the homes of his neighbors kept free of destruction. Not that they knew this about him. To them, he was just another nice contractor on the hunt for work. To him, it was a wonderful feeling to finish a job knowing he had helped to secure the treasures in someone’s home, yet, even this gladness was drowned in a flood of visions of hundreds of others that would not open their doors to hear his pitch. Their happiness would be left dependent upon clear skies… He was hammered by sorrow that mocked his efforts to cover that which was exposed to the unyielding and merciless storm of the century, possibly just around the bend. Surely, if they realized his heart for them, they would understand why, at times, he would rather bury his well-worn roofing hammer into his own skull, to stop the arrogant laughing of futility that mocked his concern for others. He could have helped, if given the chance…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s