“Joey, I got a problem.”“What’s up, boss?”“My kid, he’s up in the woods near Route 339. I told him to hold tight, and I’d call him bac....”“You want me to pick him up?”I stood and stretched, then walked over to the windows and peeked outside. The bright sunlight stabbed into my eyes. The pain helped me clear my head. Without turning around, I said, “Nah, I need you here. You got anybody that can clean up that mess for me?” Joey didn’t answer right away, and I turned to see if he had a. After ten minutes I’d thoroughly explored it and was sitting on the store porch sipping on a cold beer when I saw the same ancient Ford truck he’d had at work throwing up dust. He never replaced anything that could be fixed and he swore by that ‘51 with a flathead V8.He’d brought along a granddaughter who helped put my things in the truck bed. The cab was small so she sat on my lap, actually a treat because she was a pretty and slim adolescent just sprouting tits. As we drove the motion of the. More

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