“Mornin’ Ralph.”

“Mornin’ Sam.”

“Weather nice last weekend.”

“Yeah it was. Get out and practice your defensive maneuvers?”

“Nah, I don’t waste my time on that no more.”

“How’s Deborah doing?”

“Good.”

“How are you and Deborah doing? You two been together for a while now.”

“I like her a lot Ralph.”

“She’s a fine woman Sam.”

“Yeah, she is. I’d sure hate to lose her.”

“Why would you lose her? Something wrong? You two been quarreling?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m just getting old Ralph. Gonna be an old man before I know it, almost one now. Deborah might not want to stay with an old man like me.”

“Ah Sam, c’mon. Don’t say that. You’re no old man. Anyway, Deborah’s aging same as you. You’ll grow old together. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“What do you know about how it’s supposed be? You don’t know nothin’ about getting old.”

“I understand aging as much as anybody.”

“Growing up and getting old ain’t the same thing Ralph.”

“Maybe not, but you’re nowhere near being an old man. You don’t look no older than Deborah, maybe even a little younger. She’s lucky to have you.”

“What makes you think I’m younger than Deborah? She look old to you?”

“No Sam, I didn’t say that. Deborah’s a real good looking woman.”

“Good for her age you mean?”

“No Sam! That’s not what I said! C’mon, knock it off!”

“I’m sorry Ralph.”

“I don’t know how old Deborah is anyway. Don’t even know how old you are.”

“Age don’t matter.”

“You keep bringing it up.”

“Getting cloudy. Think it’ll storm?”

“Nah, probably just a little rain.”

“Can’t say for sure though.”

“No, you can’t. Weather can be fickle in Kentucky.”

“Weather can be fickle anywhere.”

“Yeah, it can. Nothing special ’bout the weather in Kentucky I suppose.”

“A lot of sheep grazin’ out there today Ralph.”

“Yeah, there are. More than usual. How’s that work anyway?”

“It’s up to Samuels.”

“How does Samuels know when to take them to pasture?”

“It’s under his discretion.”

“Yeah, I know it is, but how does he decide?”

“I don’t know. I ain’t him.”

“Think Tom Junior has any input on it?”

“Doubt it. I don’t think Tom Junior has much input on anything that happens on the farm. Don’t matter one way or the other to us. Just need him to go along with the plan.”

“You think he will, right?”

“Yeah… Yeah, he will. Tom Junior ain’t as dumb as he looks.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Nothing really. But he’ll do it. Lot of money in them sheep.”

“So when we taking him out for drinks?”

“I don’t know, maybe sometime next week.”

“Next week!? Samuels leaving at the end of the month, ain’t they? We should be meeting with Tom Junior this week.”

“Ah, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think you’re looking at things realistically here Sam. If we want to make the best of our time here on God’s green earth, I think we need to be moving a little faster.”

“Ah c’mon Ralph, it’s supposed to be nice again this weekend. I’d like to relax a little before we set out.”

“It’s Monday Sam.”

“Yeah, I know what day it is. Two nights’ sleep, it’ll be Wednesday, then Thursday, then Friday, start of the weekend.”

“I don’t know Sam…”

“Don’t worry Ralph, it’ll be fine. You worry too much. I’m starting to feel a little under the weather anyway. Might be coming down with a cold. I can’t fight ’em off like I used to. I get tired. My thinkin’ don’t work so good. I want to be on top of things when we meet with Tom Junior.”

“Alright, next Monday then.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Me and Deborah goin’ to the ice capades.”

“The ice capades?”

“Yeah, the ice capades.”

“What are the ice capades?”

“They’re like a traveling entertainment show. The skaters are national champions.”

“Why aren’t they competing in tournaments?”

“Well, they’re former national champions. They ain’t got it in ’em no more to compete, so they put on a show.”

“Alright, Tuesday then.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Me and Deborah goin’ ice skating.”

“Ice skating?”

“Yeah, ice skating.”

“Ain’t the ice capades good enough for you?”

“No, ’cause I don’t get no exercise. Got to get exercise to keep God’s mercy.”

“Alright, Wednesday then.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Got to recover from ice skating on Tuesday. I ain’t no former national champion. Takes a lot out of me. It’s hard on my body. I get cramps.”

“Why you keep skating then if it’s so hard on your body. Why don’t you do something else?”

“Because I enjoy it. Deborah too. Frees the soul.”

“Frees the soul, does it? Soul of Jesus. What, you gonna walk on water now?”

“Easier to skate on it than to walk on it Ralph, especially for a man of my age. I like to get there early, a little before they open.”

“Why is that Sam?”

“Because no one has skated on the ice yet. It’s all fresh and new. Nothing on it, just a blank slate as some philosopher called it. Ain’t been all scraped up and scarred yet.”

“But it’s gonna get all scraped up and scarred, ain’t it? Some people are gonna fall on the ice. Some people are gonna die. The ice knows that.”

“The ice don’t know nothin’ Ralph. It just sits there, pure as the new fallen snow.”

“You any good at it?”

“Of falling?”

“Of skating. ‘Are you a good skater?’ is what I'm asking.”

“I know what you’re asking boy. And no, I ain’t. Should have done more of it when I was a child. Gotten all scraped up and scarred then. Taken my lickins as one should as a boy and grown up to be a man. But I didn't, and that’s how it is. I have to live with it, and I’ll have to die with it too.”

“So, we gotta wait ’till next Thursday, huh? Just so your sorry ass can be young again.”

“That’s right boy. Just so my sorry ass can be young again.”

“You know Sam, you’ve taking to callin’ me ‘boy’ a lot lately. Why is that?”

“Because you’re like a son to me Ralph, the son I never had.”

“You don’t look all that old Sam. I don’t know that you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Sure I am boy.”

“Don’t look it.”

“Everyone says I look young for my age.”

“You know Sam, you always say you been working the job for 28 years. You sure you been working the job that long?”

“Twenty-eight years is longer to you than it is to me Ralph.”

“How’s that?”

“Twenty-eight years is longer than you’ve been on the face of the earth boy.”

“That may be true Sam, but you didn’t answer my question. How long you been working the job?”

“Ain’t your concern how long I’ve been working the job. The more you ask, the less I tell. Don’t matter anyway. None of it does. You see Ralph, when we die, as the body decays, the skin pulls in a little, leaving the hair and the fingernails sittin’ there for a while. That’s what you are then: bones, hair, and fingernails. Then the hair and the fingernails decay, and you’re just a pile of bones, nothing more. It ain’t pretty boy. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That’s all there is. That’s all there’ll ever be.”

“So that’s why you skate, huh? Keep your hair and your fingernails looking good for when you die. You think a lot about dying, don’t you Sam? What you should be thinking about is livin’. But you don’t like to think about that. It scares you. So you just turn a blind eye and say you’re getting old. Let time pass you by, heave a sigh of relief, and die. Be done with it, once and for all. The good Lord gave you the gift of life and you won’t even open it. You’re just waiting for the grim reaper to take it. Meantime, you’ll tell anyone who will listen that it don’t matter anyway. None of it does. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

You’re right Sam. I am still a boy, and there’s a lot I gotta learn about life. But you ain’t never learned it yourself. You’re afraid to learn it. So you figure, if I’m your boy, then you ain’t gotta do nothin’ ’cept be my pa. You just live your life through mine. Pass on your pearls of wisdom, tell me to do my best, and see what happens. If I succeed, you can be proud of me; you can call me your son. If I don’t, ain’t no shame you didn’t neither when you had the chance. Either way, you can die in peace. Ain’t that right, pa?

You play God Almighty, the Holy Father, and you’ve chosen me as your sole begotten son, your sacrificial lamb. I bear the cross of life on earth while you sit up there on your throne in heaven and watch the show, like it’s the ice capades or the Saturday morning cartoons. You like it that way, don’t you Sam? Alright, we’ll talk with Tom Junior next Thursday. That’s fine. I’ll be there, standing side by side with you, eager as always, with everything I said tonight and everything you said tonight gone and forgotten. It’ll be a brand new, spanking clean, blank slate.”

“Mornin’ Ralph.”

“Mornin’ Sam. Sam, I said a lot of things last night I shouldn’t have said. I feel real bad about it. It wasn’t right, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“No Ralph, everything you said last night was right. You gave me my comeuppance, and I rightly deserved it.”

“Sam, you look like you’re gonna cry.”

“I’ve been crying since the minute you left. I love you Ralph. I love you dearly, as if you were my own flesh and blood, and I ain’t saying that as some washed up, wanna be father.”

“I love you too Sam. I really do. Now, let’s get them sheep. What time we meeting Tom Junior on Thursday?”

“Ain’t decided yet.”

“What do you mean you ain’t decided yet!? What are you waiting for, the Canadian crows to fly south for the winter? Goddamnit Sam! Can’t butter up Tom Junior ’till we know when we’re meeting him!”

“Maybe I already buttered him up on the side.”

“Why you gotta do it on the side?”

“Because you don’t know him like I do. You can’t go talk to him like I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know him a little. You don’t.”

“What do you mean you know him? What are you, friends with Tom Junior Sam?”

“For God’s sake, no Ralph! We ain’t no friends. I just know him a little, that’s all. I’ve been working on the farm a long time. You can’t help but talk with people.”

“I see. So what do you two love birds talk about?”

“Jesus Ralph, stop it! You’re acting like we’re in cahoots or something.”

“Well, are you?”

“No!!! I just told Tom Junior that he was a good little boy, and that we’d like to take him out for drinks. Said we’d come up with a time later.”

“It’s getting later all the time Sam.” “Alright, I’ll go talk with him now.”

*****

“Eight o’clock. He said he’d meet us Thursday night at eight o’clock.”

“Where?”

“Jude’s Tavern. Let’s get there a little early to plot strategy, say 7:30.”

“Alright, 7:30 then.”

*****

“Well, you made it here old boy, right on time, 7:30.”

“I ain’t feeling so good about this Sam.”

“Why not?”

“It still bothers me you didn’t set this up a little more beforehand. Why’d you have to wait so long to see when Tom Junior wanna meet?”

“Don’t call him Tom Junior. He don’t like it.”

“Since when you care what Tom Junior likes?”

“I don’t. I just mean don’t call him that when we meet. Well, here comes little ol’ Tom Junior now. ‘Tom! How you doing ol’ boy?”’

“Right fine, I guess. Didn’t expect you and Ralph to take me out for drinks.”

“Why not, Tom? You and I been working here together for a long time. Ralph is my colleague and my dear friend. You can trust the both of us.”

“Question is Sam, can we trust him?”

“Fair question. Can we trust you, Tom Junior?”

“Don’t call me Tom Junior Sam!”

“Alright, sorry Tom. Won’t happen again. Will it Ralph?”

“I didn’t call him Tom Junior. You did.”

“Yeah, you can trust me. I ain’t got nothin’ on ya.”

“Alright then. Getcha a beer, Tom?”

“Sure.”

“Ralph, how ’bout you step up to the bar there and get us a few beers?”

“How ’bout you do it Sam?”

“Alright, alright… It’s too fine a night and too many pretty girls to be wrangling. ‘Hey hon, bring us a few beers over here, will ya?’ So, Tom. I've been working for your father a long time. You notice things. And I can’t help but notice that you bust your ass around here, and you don’t get nothin’ for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Tom, seems to me when someone puts in a hard day’s work, they should get something out it. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t get paid nothin’ for what you do on the farm. Do you Tom?”

“No.”

“Don’t that make you a little mad son? Don’t that get you a little hot under the collar sometimes?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Would me, too. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen your father give you the time of day, much less pay you anything.”

“He don’t.”

“No, he don’t, do he? Man, them beers taste real good on a hot summer’s night. Real good. Alright, so where were we?”

“Yeah Sam, where were we?”

“C’mon Ralph. I’m just trying to help Tom Junior here see things a little more clearly.”

“Goddamnit Sam! Don’t call me fucking Tom Junior! I don’t like it!”

“Yeah Sam, don’t call him fucking Tom Junior! He don’t like it!”

“Tom, you know I don’t think of you that way. I’m just trying to make a point.”

“Well, make it then.”

“Tom, I’ve been working on the farm for 28 years, and it’s plain as the ass on an orangutan that your father keeps you under his thumb, every goddamn minute, of every goddamn day. He treats you like a child when you’re all but a man. Ain’t that right? You’re a whisker away from being a full-grown man, ain’t ya Tom?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“That’s right. Well, don’t you think maybe you should be man enough to do something about your father?”

“Like what Sam? Shoot him in the back?”

“Hell, boy, shoot him in the front!”

“I ain’t shooting nothing! Jesus Christ Sam! You brought me here to ask me to kill my father!?”

“No Tom, of course not. I ain’t asking you to kill your father. Man signs my checks. Pays me at least.”

“Fuck you, Sam!”

“Alright, now hold on, hold on. Calm down. I ain’t talking nothin’ about shootin’ your father. I believe he’s leaving town soon anyway, going with your mama, bless her little heart. What’s that, maybe a week or so from now?”

“Week and a half.”

“And you’ll be here running the farm pretty much by yourself, wontcha Tom?”

“Yeah.”

“Won’t get paid nothing for it, will you?”

“No.”

“All that wasted potential. You could run the whole goddamn kit and caboodle yourself. There’s a lot of money on that farm Tom, especially the sheep. Beaucoup dollars.”

“What? You want me to give you a good deal on some sheep Sam?”

“No Tom. I ain’t lookin’ to buy your sheep. Why would I? Your father pays Ralph to steal ’em. Now you might not know this son, but there’s a long-standing feud between your family and the McCoys, going way far back.”

“So? There ain’t no McCoys around here no more.”

“Oh yes there are Tom. Not the original ones of course, but their flesh n’ blood. The Hatfields up and gone a while back, but some of the McCoys still around. I don’t think even your father knows that. But I do. I even sees one or two of ’em occasionally. And I just happened to be talking with one of ’em the other day. You see Tom, the reason your family even have them sheep is ’cause your great grandfather stole them, at least their forebearers, from the McCoys. The real McCoys. ’Course that never set right with them, and they’d sure like to get ’em back. Not just for the money, though there’d be a lot of it, not to mention the lamb chops, but to wave their middle finger in your daddy’s eye. It’s personal Tom. But it ain’t so easy stealin’ flocks of sheep in this day and age. There’re all sorts of cameras, electric wires, booby traps all over that farm, even some you don’t know about. ’Course your daddy pays off the law to make sure there ain’t no thieves getting in. Hell Tom, they even arrest the wolves. Put little wolf handcuffs on them. You never see no wolves

on the farm, do you Tom? Point being, only way the McCoys could get them sheep is if it were an inside job. You see what I’m gettin’ at here boy?”

“There ain’t no way my pa let them get away with it, McCoys or anyone else. My pa ain’t scared of nothin’. He’d hunt them down, shoot ’em, and hang ’em himself.”

“Not if weren’t in town he wouldn’t. Couldn’t if he wanted to, could he Tom?”

“No. He couldn’t. But why should I want to do this anyway?”

“Them sheep worth a lot of money Tom. A lot. I’ll make sure the McCoys give you a cut. How much you want?”

“Jesus, I ain’t doing this!”

“Could be a couple hundred dollars Tom.”

“Couple hundred dollars!?”

“Yeah Tom, I’m telling you, them sheep are worth a lot of money! I’m in good with the McCoys. They know they can’t get ’em without you. I’ll make sure they take care of you. Of course, that’s not the only reason you want to do this Tom.”

“Yeah, what’s the other?”

“Ah, c’mon Tom, what do you think? We both know how much you resent your pa, and you should too, rightly so. Get some revenge. Now I know revenge is a dirty word Tom, and it don’t exactly capture what’s in your heart, though maybe it does, but you’d get some satisfaction out of it, probably a lot. A little grin, grin, grin, under your chinny, chinny, chin. You’d carry that secret with you the rest of your life. You could dangle your middle finger at your pa any time you want, in your mind of course, but that’s where all our feelings are.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t gonna believe the McCoys did it.”

“Be funny if he did. What’s he gonna do? Round up a posse to chase down the McCoys? He’d be laughed outta town.”

“No, c’mon Sam, he’d know I was in on it. And I would be.”

“Yeah, I know Tom. That’s why we’re here.”

“My pa be spittin’ bullets! He’d kill me for it! I ain’t lying.”

“Oh, c’mon Tom…”

“He would Sam! You’ve never seen him in a fury. You’ve never seen him when he drinks. When my pa drinks, he can scare the coil off a rattlesnake’s ass. He’d fly off the handle and beat me with the pan, right there on the stove. He’d burn me too before he’d kill me. Push my hand to the gridle, throw boiling water on my face, just to hear me squeal like a pig. You don’t know him like I do Sam. He already tried to kill me once, I mean for real. If my ma weren’t there he’d a done it too. Hell, he’d kill her if he could.”

“Oh Tom, Tom, Tom. You really believe your father would think you were in on it? That you helped plan it? Little Tom Junior? Your father thinks you’re a stone butt idiot and you know it, more than I do. He ain’t gonna suspect you Tom, c’mon.”

“I don’t care what he thinks of my brains, he’d have to figure I was in on it.”

“Alright Tom, how about this? Let’s say we roughed you up a little. Not real hard of course, just enough to make it look like you tried.”

“Fighting off the McCoys?”

“Jesus Tom, there ain’t no McCoys around here no more!”

“Why’d you say there were Sam?”

“Yeah, why’d you say there were Sam?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been in the business a long time. I know plenty of folks be real happy to have them sheep. Pay good money for ’em.”

“I ain’t doing this shit Sam!”

“What, you afraid boy? Man can take a punch.”

“It ain’t that Sam.”

“Well what then?”

“It ain’t gonna work! It just plain out ain’t gonna work!”

“You don’t think so, huh Tom? Maybe you’re right. I don’t think you’re right, but maybe.”

“I ain’t talking about this no more Sam! I ain’t doing it, and that’s it!”

“I see. Well then let me ask you something, Tom.”

“Yeah?”

“This conversation never happened, did it?”

“Nah.”

“Ain’t gonna tell your pa nothin’ about it?”

“No Sam, of course not.”

“Sure about that Tom?”

“Yeah Sam, I’m sure about it. What are you, threatening me now?”

“No Tom, I can’t believe you’d ask me that. Now I know we ain’t confidants. As your father’s employee, wouldn’t make no sense that we were. But we’ve never had a squabble. Even had a few laughs now and again. I even think of you as a friend sometimes. Dontcha ever think about me that way? Just a little?”

“Yeah, I do Sam. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright son. I know you’re a man, and you know you’re a man. I think you’re making a big mistake Tom. I really do. But you gotta make your own way in life. Your own

decisions, your own actions, all of it. I don’t know what more to say. Let’s shake like men. Feels good to be a man, don’t it Tom?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“You’re a good boy Tom. Get you another beer? My treat of course.”

“Nah, I best be going.”

“Alright then. Not a word.”

“Not a word Sam. I give you mine.”

“That’s good. Now go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

“You too Sam. You too Ralph. Good to see you outside the job.”

*****

“Goddamnit Sam! What the fuck! Why’d you let him get away like that! He done up and left! He ain’t gonna do it!”

“Yeah, I know Ralph. I was sitting at the same table as you.”

“You said you were sure as shit he’d go along with the plan!”

“I don’t think I put it quite that way, but yeah, I did say something like that.”

“You traitor!”

“Traitor!? You callin’ me a traitor! I outta knock your ass to the floor, right here in public! I tried every goddamn thing I could think of to get Tom Junior to do it! Didn’t I?”

“You shouldn’t have said nothing about beatin’ him up. I think that’s why he didn’t do it.”

“Nah, that ain’t why.”

“Why then?”

“I overestimated Tom Junior. I gave him too much credit.”

“For what?”

“For his determination to get out from under his daddy’s thumb. But he couldn’t do it. I guess Tom Junior just ain’t a man.”

“You knew it wasn’t gonna work, didn’t you? The whole time.”

“I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected it might not. It’s a tall order for a boy to cross his father, especially a father like Tom Junior’s. I figured it’d be hard to win him over.”

“Did you even want to win him over?”

“I wanted you to think I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to think I had the guts to quit the job. So I gave it a try, and I left it up to fate.”

“Fate? You believe in fate?”

“Sure want to.”

“Why?”

“Because then I’m absolved.”

“Of what?”

“Of failure. If I try and fail, I’m not chagrined. If I don’t try, I’m not ashamed. Ain’t no hangdog either way. It’s all in the hands of fate. Que sera, sera.”

“So fate gives you an excuse.”

“It gives me a reason not to care.”

“I don’t understand Sam. What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of everything Ralph. I’m afraid of life. You said it yourself. You said I wanna be your father, so I can live my life through you. You’re right. I do wanna be your father. But I don’t wanna be the father that raised me. That father was a cruel man. He hated himself, and he hated me for knowing it. You said I want you to succeed, so I can be proud you’re my son. My father didn’t want me to succeed because I was his son. He didn’t want to live his life through me; he wanted to stop me from livin’ mine. He wanted me to fail, not to excuse his failings, but to take me down with him. And I’m afraid I’m trying to take you down with me Ralph. That’s the thing I’m most afraid of. I’m terrified at the thought of it. But I won’t do it. I’d burn in hell before I’d let that happen. Thank God for that. ’Least the good Lord got something right. He got another thing right too: He gave you the wherewithal, so that neither me nor anyone else could take you down, including the Almighty Himself. You’re not bound by fate Ralph. You’re alive. You’re truly alive.

My father was afraid that God would send him to hell. He wished he was younger because he was afraid to die. I wish I was older because I’m afraid to live. He tried to cheat death. I try to cheat life. I was never gonna quit the job Ralph. I’d rather stay with what I know, even if it don’t ask much of me. Because it don’t ask much of me. That way, I can accept my lot in life and never fall short of reaching the stars. I’m lost in a netherworld of my own creation, more dead than alive, and I ain’t got neither the guts nor the brains to get out. That’s how I am. That’s how I’ll always be.”

“Stop it, Sam! You are alive! More than me sometimes. You got more guts and more brains than you know. I’ve seen ’em both. I’ve seen you take chances I would never take, wouldn’t have even thought to take. Hell, the way you masquerade them sheep sometimes confounds me. Yeah, you lose a few more than you win, but you take the chance, and the pay cut that comes with it. You’d get a lot more out of life Sam if you thought you deserved it. You’re not scared of losing Sam; you’re scared of winning. Thing you’re most afraid of in life is gettin’ your cake and eatin’ it too. You don’t try gettin’ it, ’cause you wouldn’t eat it. You wouldn’t eat it, so you don’t try gettin’ it.

You can’t think like that Sam, especially about Deborah. She’s a damn fine woman, and more prettier than not. Dumbest thing ever come out of your mouth, ’least the dumbest thing I ever heard come out of it, is that you don’t deserve her. You do Sam! You deserve her as much as anyone deserves anything.”

“Deborah is a wise woman Ralph. Wise beyond her years. Don’t know anyone wiser.”

“Then she ain’t no dumbass for liking you.”

“Hello, my sweet Petunia. You’re looking pretty tonight.”

“Why you always call me that Sam?”

“Pretty?”

“A petunia. Why a petunia?”

“It’s a pretty flower.”

“Lots of pretty flowers.”

“I just like petunias in particular.”

“You always say I look good Sam. Good for my age you mean?”

“No, just good. I think you’re beautiful Deborah.”

“How old do you think I am Sam?”

“I don’t know. You never told me.”

“You never told me how old you are neither.”

“You never asked me. You always say it don’t matter, and it

don’t.”

“Just curious though: How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know Deborah, c’mon.”

“How old do you think I am Sam?”

“I don’t know! Why are we even talking about this!?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“From all appearances, I’m dating a younger man. Sort of unusual. Most men want to be with a younger woman. Most of them are. They ain’t gonna bother with a woman their age, sure not one that’s older. I’m 52 years old Sam. You can’t be no more than 50, probably younger. You really wanna be with a woman my age? You gonna be there when I’m 55? 60? You still gonna think I’m good looking then? You still gonna call me your sweet Petunia?”

“Of course I will.”

“I ain’t so sure. I haven’t had much luck in my life, especially with men. Why should I be gettin’ lucky now?”

“I just look young Deborah. People always say I look younger than I am.”

“How old are you Sam?”

“About your age.”

“Little younger though, right?”

“It don’t matter. I don’t wanna talk about this no more. Please!”

“Alright Sam.”

“Let me ask you something Deborah. First time we went out, you told me you hated your husband so much, you could have shot him.”

“That’s right.”

“Then I asked you if by ‘could have,’ you meant ‘would like to have’ or ‘might have.’ You remember what your answer was? You said it could have gone either way.”

“I did say that. You thought it was funny.”

“I still do. But you ain’t never said another word about your husband since. Why?”

“It was awful Sam. The most awful thing you can imagine. I feel bad for not talking with you about it. I do. And I will someday, I promise. I just can’t right now.”

“Can’t because it’s too difficult for you, or can’t because something bad might happen if youdid?”

“What are you trying to get at here Sam?”

“Did you kill your husband Deborah?”

“Nah, I didn't kill him. Didn't need to. He was killing himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He couldn’t live life. Left him empty, empty and bitter. He died a miserable man.”

“Did he beat you?”

“Sure he did. ’Till I was black and blue. ’Till I couldn’t walk no more, or even sit down.”

“You feel you had cause to kill him?”

“Yeah I do, but I didn’t. But he did something worse than beating me Sam.”

“What?”

“He lied to me. All the time. Up and down. Everyday. Just to do it. Even when there was no cause for it. He knew I hated it, so he did it more, and more, and more. But he was a sly one. I couldn’t always tell for sure if he was lying, and he knew it. He played with it. Sometimes he’d tell the truth, sometimes he’d lie, ’till I didn’t know what was for real. I begged him to be right with me! Made him titter. Then he’d scow n’ holler at me, ‘What’s wrong with you, Debbie?,’ and he’d beat me some more. Two hours later, he said he didn’t remember doing it. Next day, he swore he never done it.”

“He must have known he done it.”

“’Course he did. Maybe he didn’t wanna. I don’t know. Don’t matter.”

“Geez, Deborah. I don’t know what to say. I shouldn’t have asked you about it. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do nothing wrong Sam. You didn’t know.”

“Oh honey, come here. I’d do anything to make that pain go away.”

“I know you would Sam. But I can’t be around you when I think about him.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I ain’t in my right mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I imagine what I’d do to him.”

“Like you’re in a dream?”

“No. It ain’t like a dream. It’s a fantasy. It’s a horrible fantasy.”

“You can tell me Deborah.”

“Oh Sam!”

“It’s OK, Deborah. Really. You can tell me. You tell me anything. Anything in the world.”

“I play it over and over in my head.”

“What?”

“I walk in that garage, and I slip the noose around his neck. Then I tighten it, until his eyes almost bust out. But not enough to kill him. Not yet. I make sure of that. I torture him. I torture his mind. I laugh at him wigglin’ in that noose. I say, ‘Aw honey, what’s wrong? Why you squirming like that? Here, let me ease that a little for you. That’s better, isn’t it love? Why would anyone want to hurt you? It ain’t right. I know you wouldn’t never want to hurt me, would you honey? Here, let me tighten that up a little more for you. Wouldn’t want to see you fall down and cry. I just want to make you happy. All I’ve ever wanted is to make you happy.’

I keep paintin’ that scene ’till I can’t take it no more, or ’till I’m bored. Then, I raise a shot gun, I take a step back, look him square in the eye, and I blow his fucking brains out all over the garage, blood everywhere. Then I just stand there, not laughing no more, not crying, not trembling, not happy, not sad, not even satisfied with what I done. I just look at ’em, hanging there. Bastard. Ain’t no way I can let you see me like that Sam. I feel evil when it happens. I am evil when it happens. More evil than Lucifer himself. More evil than anyone that’s ever been.”

“You’re not evil Deborah. You could never be evil. You’re the kindest, most loving woman I’ve ever known. God knows you are. The Father knows. What I don’t know is why The Father would hurt you like that, His own creation. Why would He do that to you? Why would He do it to any of his children?”

“Sam?”

“What honey?”

“Have you really worked on the farm for 28 years?”

“I have Deborah. Yes, I have.”

“What did you do before that?”

“You mean for work?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh geez, it’s been a long time. I’ve done a lot of jobs…”

“Which one maybe you done the most?”

“I worked in a tavern for a couple years.”

“What did you do?”

“First, I worked in the kitchen, washing dishes mainly. Then, I was a bar back, and eventually, bar tender.”

“Did you like being a bar tender Sam?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s interesting. You get to understand people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, people who hang out at the bar, especially the regulars, and especially men, they tell you a lot, a lot about themselves, their whole life stories sometimes. ’Course you want to get ’em liquored up, so you talk with them. You listen to them. You figure out what they want to hear, what makes them happy, what makes them sad, what they don’t want to know about themselves. Especially that, what they don’t want to know about themselves. So you help them. You help them pull the wool over their eyes.”

“Where did you work?”

“Like I said, first in the kitchen, then at the bar.”

“No, I mean what town?”

“Geez, Deborah, it’s been so long. I don’t remember... Oh, you know where it was? Milwaukee! In Milwaukee! Ain’t that funny? What a coincidence.”

“You told me you never been to Milwaukee Sam.”

“No…”

“Yeah you did Sam, first time we met at the restaurant. You asked me where I was from. I said Milwaukee, and you said you’d never been there.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“Sam? How old are you? Really? Please, don’t lie to me Sam. I don’t care how old you are. I just want to know. Please Sam. Sam? Sam!? Sam! What’s wrong!?”

“I don’t know. I can’t breathe right.”

“Is your chest painin’?”

“Yeah. It hurts real bad. It’s all tight, like someone’s squeezing on it.”

“I think you’re having a heart attack Sam. Here, let me help you sit down. Try to calm your body. You’re gonna be OK, honey. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Jesus, don’t let me die! Please don’t let me die! I ain’t ready to go yet!”

*****

“Thank God you got here fast! Please help him!”

“We'll get him to the hospital right away ma’am. Do you have his wallet? I’m sorry to ask you that, but they’re going to want his health insurance card at the hospital.”

“Alright, I’ll bring it with me.”

*****

“Yes ma’am?”

“They brought my friend to the emergency room. I think he had a heart attack!”

“What’s his name?”

“Sam. Sam Widdershins. Is he alright?”

“I don’t know ma’am. Do you have his health insurance card?”

“Yes, here you go. Can I see him?”

“No, I’m afraid you can’t ma’am, not now. There’s a waiting room over there. Someone will come out and talk with you when they can.”

*****

“Deborah?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m Deborah.”

“Hi, I’m Dr. Blanc. Are you Mr. Widdershins’ wife?”

“I’m his friend. Is he OK?”

“He’s going be OK, ma’am. We want to keep him here a little while longer, but he’s going be OK. How old is Mr. Widdershins?”

“I’m not sure. Let me get his driver’s license. Says he was born in 1905; that’d make him 48.”

“That’s young to be having a heart attack. Mr. Widdershins needs to take better care of himself.”

“Yeah, he does. Can I go see him?”

“Yes, you can. He’ll be discharged in a couple hours, but yes, you can see him.”

*****

“Sam! You’re alright! They say you’ll be alright!”

“Yeah, they say I will.”

“You will honey. You really gave me a scare. The doctor said you’re young to be having a heart attack.”

“He told you how old I am?”

“No, your birthdate’s on your driver’s license Sam.”

“I lied to you Deborah. I’ve lied to you a lot. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“Why didn’t you want me to know how old you are Sam?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I might leave you, just like you were saying. But I would never leave you Deborah. Never in my life. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I won’t never again! I swear I won’t!”

“Ain’t no hanging offense Sam.”

“It ain’t?”

“Nah. I ain’t killin’ ya off yet. You’re too young.”

“Oh God Deborah! Thank you! I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“You’d be dead, that’s what you’d be doing.”

“Yeah...”

“Do you want to be dead, Sam?”

“No.”

“Alight then.”

“I gotta ask you something Deborah.”

“Alright.”

“It’s important.”

“OK.”

“Real important.”

“What is it, Sam?”

“Will you marry me, Deborah?”

“Oh my God, Sam! You really asking? Nah, you’re kidding, right?”

“I’d be on bended knee if I could.”

“Nahhhh… For real? You proposing to me for real?”

“I am Deborah. Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes Deborah, really.”

“Then I accept.”

“Really?”

“Yeah Sam, really.”

“I love you Deborah. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you too Sam. But Sam…”

“What Deborah?”

“You best be damn sure you want this. You’ll be marrying an older woman, four years your senior. I ain’t no lambkin.”

“Deborah, look I—”

“You want to spend the rest of your life growing old with me? You sure? ’Cause if I’m gonna marry you, that’s what it means. Till death do us part. Ain’t no middle ground.”

“Till death do us part.”

“You have to promise me something Sam.”

“I’ll be true to you Deborah. I’ll never cheat on you. I swear!”

“Yeah, I know that. I’d shoot you first. It’s something else.”

“Anything in the world Mrs. Widdershins.”

“I’m serious Sam.”

“OK…”

“You gotta start taking care of yourself. No more heart attacks. I mean it Sam. I already had one husband kill himself, and I thank Jesus every day that he did, but if I’m gonna marry you, you gotta stick around. No more eatin’ beef sandwiches at the diner. Damn things ’ll kill ya.”

“I will Deborah, I promise. I got a reason to now.”

“Oh Sam, I can’t believe it! We’re gonna get married! We’re really gonna get married!”

“Sam? Deborah? Can I come in?”

“Ralph! Hey Ralph!!

“Jesus, I could hear you two half a mile down the hall! What’s going on? For God’s sake Sam, you’re animated as the Merrie Melodies! From what Deborah said, I thought you were dying!”

“Not no more, I ain’t. I’m alive Ralph. I’m truly alive.”

*****

“Mornin’ Ralph.”

“Mornin’ Sam. You’re recovering good Sam. I’m glad you took the time off work.”

“Yeah, I needed to...”

“Guess what Sam? I'm getting my commercial license! I’m really gettin’ it! Maybe another year, I’ll be licensed to fly a real airliner, one of the big ones. They’re saying that pretty soon there’ll be jet airliners flying people everywhere, all over the world! I’m gonna be a captain of one of them airliners someday, you’ll see!”

“I bet you will Ralph. I know you will. God knows you put a mind to it, just like everything you do. You always have.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“I’m gonna miss you Ralph. A lot.”

“I’m gonna miss you too Sam. Don’t worry, I’ll come around, maybe more than you want. You’ll probably get sick of me.”

“I could never get sick of you Ralph. I love you like a son. You’ll come to the wedding, right?”

“Of course I will Sam. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, even if I have to fly halfway around it to get there.”

“You know where we’re thinking of going for our honeymoon?”

“Letcher county?”

“Paris.”

“Nahhh…”

“Yeah. Deborah’s always wanted to go there.”

“Maybe I’ll fly you there, who knows? Food’s supposed to be good. I hear they do wonderful things with lamb.”

“I could never eat one of them Ralph. They’re the kindliest of God’s creatures.”

“I’m glad you’re gonna quit the job Sam. Not with your full pension, I know, but with a lot of it. It’s not a bad deal.”

“No, I guess not. You know what Ralph? They gave me a gold watch. How you like that? I thought it was pretty decent of ’em at first. But you know what? It wasn’t made of gold. It was a cheap piece of crap. I saw one just like it at the dime store for two bucks. Damn thing broke in a couple weeks. You believe that?”

“You don’t need a gold watch to know how to live Sam.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

“You got a lot of good years left in you Sam. You’re still young.”

“Yeah, I am, and I’m learning to be happy about it… You remember what I told you about Einstein Ralph?”

“Sort of. He said time isn’t real, right?”

“Not exactly. He said time is relative.”

“To what?”

“To everything.”

“I'm glad you got Deborah to care for you Sam. She's a lovely woman, and more prettier than not.”

“Yes she is. And I love her. I love her so much. My sweet Petunia.”