Unconventional

“No,” said Noah. “It was all here. Chase and I saw it.”

“We signed for it,” Chase added. “After checking it, too.”

At least twelve-hundred dollars in lumber was missing. Big lumber. Expensive, engineered beams I needed to complete the project.

“I’m afraid the answer’s not all that mysterious,” said Julian. “Look.”

He was kneeling in the softer dirt near the outer curve of the mill tower. A series of tracks criss-crossed the ground here, baked into the mud. Scars in the earth from countless deliveries over the past two years.

One set of tracks was fresh, though. As recently as only a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” swore Chase.

“Someone came here last night?” I swore incredulously. “Loaded up our stuff and just… took off?”

“Apparently.”

The long silence seemed to stretch out forever, as we stared uselessly at half a pile of lumber. My heart was heavy. My mind was spinning. trying to figure out where in the world I’d get the money to replace what was stolen.

“I’ve been on this job almost two years,” said Noah, “and I’ve never seen anything go missing. Why this?”

“An even better question is why now?” said Julian. “We’re so close to being done. Only a couple of weeks from the final inspections.”

The four of us looked at each other, all thinking the same thing.

“Someone doesn’t want me to finish,” I said gravely.

An intruder in an empty field was one thing. But the thought that someone was out to sabotage the project was even more disconcerting.

“Maybe move the trail camera?” I offered. “I’d rather have it pointed at the supplies than the farm field.”

“Would it matter?” asked Chase. “It’s not a security camera. It doesn’t have an alarm.”

“Yeah…” said Julian, stretching his arms behind him. “But it might show us who has her stuff.”

The big stonemason cracked his knuckles menacingly. His giant arms uncoiled, flexing in the morning sun.

“That could be useful,” Chase agreed.

Julian began pulling on his work gloves. He clapped them together a few times as he finished, sending up small plumes of mortar dust.

“Let’s get this thing done,” he said, turning away. “This castle isn’t going to restore itself.”

“But we can’t finish with the supplies missing,” protested Noah.

“But you have enough to get started, right? You can still work?”

“Yeah. For now.”

“Alright, then get on it,” said Julian. “We’ll cross that other bridge when we come to it.”

I found myself touched, that they all cared this much. That these three incredible men were still working for me, through a lack of pay and now even a lack of supplies. Anyone else would’ve walked away. I swallowed the small lump that had formed, and cleared my throat.

“Before you go…”

Everyone had been breaking in different directions. Now they turned around, their gorgeous eyes all falling on me.

“A couple things,” I said, feeling suddenly on the spot. “One, I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart. All of you are incredible — far beyond amazing. I don’t deserve any of this.”