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“Where d’you get that?”
“Diner.”
A face then appeared at the window, the arm on the edge of the door, said arm scattered with jailhouse tats, the man’s hair closely shorn, a tooth missing on the left side of his crooked smile. But to Ke
“Back there?”
“Sure, back there. Half a mile, no more.”
“And it’s good chicken, you say?”
“Good enough,” Ke
“You don’t get no supper at home?”
“Some.”
“But not today.”
“No, sir, not today.”
“Sir? What you done call me sir for?”
Ke
“Well, shee-it, kid. I don’t recall that there’s ever been a time someone called me sir.”
“Well, maybe you ain’t knowed a great deal of polite folks.”
“I’m thinkin’ that may be the case. I think maybe you just hit the nail damn square on the head right there, son.”
“Maybe so,” Ke
“So that chicken is good, then, you say.”
“You wa
“You’d let me have some of that there chicken you got in the bag?”
“Sure. Not all of it, mind, but you could maybe have a wing and see if it was good, and if you wanted more, you could drive right on down there and get yourself some.”
The man paused, tilted his head to one side, and looked at Ke
“You’re a good kid, you know that?”
Ke
“So, you want some?”
“Sure, kid. Let me have a wing there and we’ll see how it is.”
They agreed the chicken was good, not the best either of them had ever had, but fit for purpose.
“Where do you live, son?” Leon asked.
“Back a ways there, over beyond the clear-cut.”
“With your ma and pa?”
“Just my ma.”
“Your pa done run off?”
“Nope, he died.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Yup.”
“You got brothers and sisters?”
“Two stepbrothers, Dale and Stephen, but they lit out when our pa died.”
“So they wasn’t your ma’s boys?”
“No, sir. They come with the package.”
Leon laughed. “Yes, indeedy, you’re a good kid, and you’re smart, too. Bet you there ain’t a great deal of people who can get past you.”
“I’d like to think not.”
“So, I’m go
“Why for?”
“No reason. Just for company.”
“Ain’t s’posed to go no place with strangers.”
“What’s your name, son?”
“Ke
“Well, Ke
“Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Well, seein’ as how we’s on first-name terms, and seein’ as how we already shared some di
“I guess.”
“Well, hop on up here and show me where this diner is, and then once we’ve eaten, I can give you a ride back home.”
Ke
Seemed that there may have been some odious and disreputable reason for Leon Devereaux’s initial exchange with Ke
“You know the trailers parked up over yonder?”
“The ones where that crazy dog is at?” Ke
“That’s the ones.”
“Yes, I do, sir.”
“Well, that’s where I live. You ever want some company, you come on by there. And don’t mind the dog. That’s General Patton. He’s always chained up secure, and he ain’t half as mad as he sounds. He just does it to show off.”
“You want me to bring chicken?”
“Sure, son. You bring some chicken if you like.”
“Okay,” Ke
“Well, okay,” Leon replied.
And so it had become a friendship of sorts, Ke
Most often Leon was not there, and so their meetings were few and far between. But when they did meet, they picked up the conversations where they’d left off—baseball, comic books, church, what was best to eat, girlfriends, the benefits of cats versus dogs or vice versa, other such things. Leon showed Ke
And so it was, late afternoon of Monday, August 5th, that Ke
“What’s up, boy?” Ke
Each day Ke
Ke
Ke
He knocked again, knew he wouldn’t get an answer, and reached up to open the door.
Five minutes later, stopping once again to heave violently at the side of the road, Ke
He’d been shot right there in his bed, had perhaps leaned up to see who was coming through the door, and taken a bullet right through the eye.
By the time he reached home, Ke