A tired old man. A father.
Wes is the congenial type. He has a loud booming laugh when
he laughs, and a large warm smile when he smiles. He’s always
been big and strong; over the years he developed a very gentle
and protective nature due to these attributes. He is a hard worker
and has a strong sense of justice. He is a family-man before most
of his other ideals, and this is expressed through a reassuring “father
figure” feeling which he exudes at all times.
He has a working knowledge of how many machines work, and can
fix them if given enough time and room to swear (although he
does this only occasionally). He has an excellent memory for location
and spatial arrangements--he’s traveled the better part of the U.S.
and it shows in his knowledge of “folk” and “the in-between places.”
Since Eunice passed away three years ago, he has become more
withdrawn: the ready-laugh, the sparkle in his eyes, and Wesley’s sharp
sense of humor--are all slower to rouse.
A small tool kit which he keeps in one of his large coat’s pockets--
because he’s found that over the years, “You never know when
you’ll be fixin’ things.” This includes a large knife (not quite
a hunting knife).
A quaint gun collection. Most of them he’s given away or pawned,
but there are a pair of 45s which he takes loving care of. A
.460 Weatherby magnum, a compound bow, and an
old slingshot.
His house, and an old beat-up Chevy.
Wesley Clyde Desmond Hereford the 3rd was born 65 years ago,
February 8th at 11:00pm in a small-town hospital.
Wes married Eunice shortly out of high school (they had attended
rival schools), and has lived a full life. He had a great love, has three
beautiful children, worked hard, played hard, and knows that he
has been uncommonly blessed.
After retiring Wesley and Eunice traveled the U.S. in an over-sized
camper which puttered to a full stop--unable to be revived--three
years ago, and six months before Eunice was diagnosed.
Eunice died three years ago from cancer. Her fight with cancer is
the only time in Wesley Hereford’s life that he has regularly attended
church, and prayed. Prayers left unanswered, he has ceased going
entirely--not out of spite, but because he has nothing left to pray for.
His children offered to take him in, or move him to a home for the
elderly, but he’s stubborn and moved back to his hometown to live
out the rest of his days in peace and quiet.
His children: Xavier; a retired doctor who works as a mechanic in
Oregon; Jane an LA girl through-and-through with a young daughter
of her own; and Tanner, a student in an Arts College in New York
State--a wood carver who’s been living with his ‘partner’ for the past
several years now; they all live out their own hectic lives far away,
but think of their loving mother and warm father fondly.
Currently, Wesley fiddles with his old radio, makes small artsy
things, and tries not to dwell on the past--although every evening
he wishes Eunice goodnight.