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When the Roofers Show Up 

Dan Morey

When the roofers show up they will bring a boom box. They will put it on the roof and blast classic rock. “Hot Blooded” by Foreigner. “Cat Scratch Fever” by Ted Nugent. “You Really Got Me” by the Kinks. One of the roofers will say, “The Van Halen version is better.”

When the roofers show up they will be shirtless and their backs will be red. Your father will say, “Haven’t you fellas ever heard of sunblock?”

When the roofers show up they will be wearing tight cutoffs. You will look at them and think you are seeing something you should not be seeing, and you probably are.

When the roofers show up one of them will be young. He will not have a mustache, bandana, or long hair. He will have abs. Hard, glistening abs. When you come home from school he will look down at you and say, “Damn, girl.”

When the roofers show up there will be a lunch break. You will find the young roofer behind the shed, smoking a joint. You will kiss him. He will position you against the shed and put himself inside you. He will say, “Oh, God.” And then, “I could’ve gone longer, but my break is almost over.”

When the roofers show up on the last day of work the young roofer will not be with them. You will look out the window every half hour, hoping he will appear, but he never will. When everything is cleaned up your father will pay the boss and say, “I sure won’t miss those noisy nail guns.”

Years later, when the roofers show up, your husband will be at work. You will walk the boy out to the school bus and hear a roofer say, “Hey mother, want another?” The roofers will laugh. You will look at the boy and smile.