"The voice wails, "I am gone."He remembers Steve's burial, the afternoon after his, Steve's plot was on the other side of the cemetery, as far away fr...m his as you could get. Steve lay back under the bridge, indifferent, sleeping. That funeral'd been so different. Steve's folks'd wept and clung to each other. Steve's younger brother and sister'd hugged his parents and his aunts and uncles. It looked like half the high school was there. Everyone hugged and wept. They threw flowers and shit onto. She was there when I arrived, and as I approached the table, I was disappointed to see that she was working on a glass of white wine. She knew how I felt about it when I sat across from her and I stared pointedly at the glass."Not to worry, Stevie! I've cut way back and this is all the booze I'll be drinking today. I've been seeing a counselor and I've pretty much got a handle on it."The glassy look in her eyes told me differently and I had to be blunt. "No you don't, and I'd bet your counselor. More

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