Charlie’s chest hurt. He’d let Steve down again. It was just
that—Charlie kicked the dirt.
Steve could always take care of himself. Boyd couldn’t. When Evelyn left, Boyd needed a lot of
help. Steve just got real quiet. Went off by himself all the time. Steve had been on his own since
he was ten.
He had the sausage cooking by the time Boyd stumbled from the tent in his boxer shorts.
He sat at the table and pulled on his jeans. Charlie poured him coffee.
“Where’s Steve?”
“Headed back early.”
Boyd nodded and sipped. “I’d like to hike up to Wolf Rock.”
“Suits me.”
As the sun climbed and the heat of the day settled on the earth, they trudged up the trail
that looped back and forth across the eastern side of the mountain. They made their way over
roots big as Charlie’s wrist, around boulders that would have dwarfed the pickup. Toward the
top, the trees grew thicker, the leaves greener.
“Got anyone to look after Timmy while Sheila’s in the hospital?” Charlie
said when they
were finally able to walk side by side.
“Me.”
“None of my business, Boyd, but how are you paying the doctor?”
“Sheila’s folks.”
“Jesus.”
“I always figured,” Boyd said, “that by the time we had another kid,
I’d have made it. But
this one sort of took us by surprise.”
Charlie took a deep breath. “Got anything in the works?”
“Looked like Cheap Thrills was going to take me on to play bass. Fell through. Guess I
can still play once at week at the Starlight. Except in September. They’ve already booked. I’ve
been looking into doing the sound set-up for other groups.”
TOM'S TALES