When the pounding started again on Sunday morning, I decided to look over the high fence to investigate. My neighbor I discovered was building a boat. The keel was down, about 25 to 30 feet long, and most of the ribs were in place. My neighbor pounded away non-stop, one nail after another. I watched awhile, and then spoke when he was between nails.
“Hey Fred,” I called, “building a boat, huh.” I was good at stating the obvious.
“What!?” He looked around, startled. “It’s an ark.”
“Expecting a flood?” I said, stifling a smirk.
“Yep,” was all he said, and returned to his hammering. I looked up—not a cloud anywhere.
On Monday night he strung flood lights and worked until midnight. I let it pass, but when I got home on Tuesday, I could hear that he was still at it so I took another look. Fred had been busy. It looked rough, but nearly finished. And it did look like it would float.
“Kind of small for an ark,” I called over. “Who you taking with you?”
“How many animals are you planning on then?”
“No animals,” he said as if speaking to a dim child, “bugs.”
“Yes, bugs,” he said. “I’ve been collecting them for months. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to hurry.”
I looked up again. Lightning flashed in the distance and I heard the crack of thunder.