“Do it again?”
Wend tapped the nail twice with the hammer. The nail clicked underneath the steel. The sound was sharp and distinct. The drill nearby echoed behind it after a moment, in the same unmistakable rhythm—two short successions, and then quiet.
In walked another pair, murmuring amongst themselves. Ira stepped back, studying the scene unfolding before them.
Everyone was coupled—mother and child, colleague and colleague, tutor and student, man and woman. It was mostly colleague and colleague. Filing in at the sound.
Wend watched too as their own colleague spoke with the newcomers.
“Keep going,” Ira muttered behind her, almost startling her. She turned. He motioned to the wall. “It’s a hazard if we leave it undone.” He picked up his backpack again, carefully threading his arms through the straps, pulling them in place over his shoulders.
“Okay,” she said. She watched him pack up and then looked away as he got ready to leave.
Ira paused for a moment and stood there quietly. The cumulative din of all the pairs filled the space. He didn’t move for awhile. Wend glanced back over at him. This time he was staring at a tile on the floor.
“I’m not just imagining this, right?” he said more than asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said simply. Ira looked at her, making eye contact for the first time the whole afternoon. Then he nodded towards the front.
“I gotta run. I’ll check in with you later, okay?” He held out a hand as he backed away and turned towards the door, leaning into it as he stepped back out into the city. Two more people walked in, surveying the area as they joined the crowd.
“Okay,” Wend said again, quietly.