had been a wondrous time, although that part where the Japanese boys tried to crash their planes into his ship hadn’t been so great. He instilled this love for the sea in his son, but one thing had led to another, and A.J. never made it up the gangplank.
“It’s not true about Chinese girls,” Eugene said, comforting his friend. “If I could do one thing over, I’d be better to Diane.” He sighed. The enormity of his crimes was heavy upon his soul. Then A.J. had an epiphany.
“Well, hell, Eugene. She’s not dead. Let’s hop in the truck and go find her.”
“I don’t know about that,” Eugene said, sounding doubtful. He winced and grabbed his side, fumbled for some pills, and washed them down with a taste of bourbon. Then he fired up a pipeful of the marijuana and took two or three deep hits. “Helps with the nausea,” he croaked, offering some to A.J., who declined. “I have some suppositories, but I’d rather smoke dope.”
“Get up,” A.J. said to Eugene. “We’re going to town. Maybe get a cup of coffee. Maybe run into Diane. Hell, bring a gun. We might see Johnny Mack, and you could shoot him.” That idea appeared to cheer Eugene considerably, and he made up his mind.
“All right, let’s go,” he said. “I haven’t been down the mountain in a while. I need a change.” He stood and dropped his blanket. Then he went inside, and when he came back he was carrying a shoe box under his arm. He had donned his Grateful Dead jacket. The skull on the back of the garment bore a strong resemblance to Eugene, and A.J. made a mental note that they needed to visit Doc Miller while they were in town. Eugene loaded several items of importance into his jacket pockets: pills, his pipe and some contents for it, a fresh pint bottle of Ancient Age. He lingered over the grenade bowl as if he could not decide, but finally shook his head and passed them up. A.J. wondered how it would have gone if the jacket pockets had been larger. They made slow progress across the clearing to the truck, and A.J. noticed how much Eugene appeared to have gone down during the past week. If he had not witnessed the decline for himself, he would not have believed it.
“You drive,” Eugene said, climbing into the passenger side.
“Good idea,” replied A.J. They headed down the road. A.J. missed as many bumps as he could in light of Eugene’s frailty. Still, the trip was rugged, and Eugene braced against every jolt. When they finally gained the highway the ride eased considerably, and Eugene unscrewed the cap from the whiskey and took a tentative sip.
“You seem a little low yourself,” he said, taking another taste before screwing the lid back on. “What about? If it’s Rufus, don’t worry. He’s going to make it just fine.”
“I got fired last night,” A.J. replied. “I don’t have a job.” A.J. recounted the tale of his short tenure with Alabama Southern. Since he had survived a mere three days, it didn’t take long to tell the story. Boy meets employer, boy pisses employer off, and boy gets shown the door. It was the same old story.
“Let me get this straight,” Eugene said. “They showed up at two o’clock this morning right after your shift and fired you?”
“The personnel guy and someone I didn’t know were waiting for me when I got to the office. Handed me my money, wished me a nice life, and took away my keys. I asked the other guy if he was my replacement, and he said he was. I gave him my paperwork and told him that there was the number to beat. Then I left.” Actually, the new guy hadn’t seemed a bad sort, and A.J. hoped Mayo didn’t throw him into the chipper.
“That was a nice touch,” commented Eugene. “Let the boy know he’s in the bigs now. Tell you what. I’ve got a rifle back at the cabin I guarantee will take all of these fuckers out at one thousand yards. Got a tripod and a scope and everything. Even
“As you pointed out last week,” A.J. said, “I can hit what I’m aiming at.”
“Pardon me for being indelicate, but on full automatic it’s kind of like mowing the grass. We’re talking fine work here. Ridge work.” His voice failed, and a small shudder overtook him. He downed a couple of pills with the bourbon, and then sat quietly.
“Where do you want to go?” A.J. asked as they neared the outskirts of town. The town wasn’t much, so neither were the outskirts. A decision would have to be made quickly.
“Take me to Diane’s house. I want to talk to her a minute.” A.J. looked at his watch.
“It’s still a little early. Why don’t we have a cup of coffee and give her a chance to wake up?”
“No, I was kind of hoping to see her in her nightgown once more before I die,” Eugene said. “She always looked fine in her gown.” His eyes were closed, and he was slumped down in the seat. His voice held a deep weariness. “I didn’t think I ever wanted to see her again. But as soon as you mentioned going to town, I knew I wanted to talk to her.”
So A.J. drove across town and pulled up by the side of Diane’s home. He turned off the truck and waited for something to happen. When nothing did, he spoke.
“Eugene, we’re here. What now?”
“How bad do I look to you? Be honest.”
“You look pretty bad,” A.J. said, telling the truth and hating its lack of mercy.
“That’s what I figured. How about going in and telling her I need to see her? Kind of prepare her.”
A.J. sighed. He had somehow known this was going to happen. He looked at his friend and saw the sadness in his eyes.
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” He walked up to the house and rapped. At first there was no answer, but after a subsequent knock, the door opened. There stood Diane, and Eugene was right. She looked fine in her nightgown.
“A.J., what are you doing here?” she asked with confusion on her face.
“I need to talk to you. I swear it won’t take long. Can I come in?” She looked unhappy with the request. “This is important,” he said. “Please.” She considered for a moment. Then she shook her head before looking over her shoulder.
“The boys spent the night with their granddaddy,” she said quietly. “I have company. Could you come back in about an hour? We can talk all morning then, if you want to.” A.J. sighed. It was a good thing the porch was unobservable from the truck.
“I have Eugene in the truck,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour.” A look of wariness entered her eyes. “Diane, please. I wouldn’t have brought him if I didn’t think it was important.”
“Okay. One hour. I’m trusting you on this, A.J.” She closed the door, and A.J. made his way back to the truck. Eugene appeared to be asleep, but he opened his eyes when the truck door slammed.
“I couldn’t get anyone to the door,” A.J. lied. “She must be in the shower. We’ll try back in an hour or so.”
“I still have a key to this house,” Eugene said. “She looks even finer in the shower than she does in her nightgown.”
“Let’s just come back later,” A.J. said, U-turning on the spot so Eugene would not see the mystery visitor’s car parked out front. A.J.
had recognized it and was having difficulty absorbing its implications. “If I saw Diane in the shower,” he continued, “we would just have to fight again. It would look bad for me to whip a man in your condition. I’d do it, but it would look bad.”
“I can whip you with one pancreas tied behind my back,” Eugene responded. A.J. could tell he was tired and decided to swing by and see Doc Miller while they were waiting for Diane’s appointment book to clear up. He did not burden Eugene with the information, but they were going to the doctor, and that was that. Eugene looked bad and sounded worse. Predictably, he bowed up as soon as they entered Doc’s driveway.
“Hell, no,” he said.
“You come in, or I’ll bring him out. Pick it.”
“Bastard,” Eugene said, opening his door and getting out.
“Language,” A.J. said as he walked him slowly to the steps. They progressed to Doc’s door. Eugene stood there with his shoe box and grumbled while A.J. knocked. Presently, Doc answered. He was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, a T-shirt, and a pair of worn slippers. He held a cup of coffee and the door as they filed in.
“Doc, you need to take a look at Eugene,” A.J. said.
“They dress a little better down at Emory,” chided Eugene as he eyed Doc’s footwear.
“Well, go on down to Emory, or come on in the office,” said Doc testily. “My eggs are getting cold.”
Doc and Eugene went into the examining room, and A.J. sat down to wait. Minnie offered a cup of coffee, which he gratefully accepted. It had been a long night and was turning into a longer morning. To pass the time, he raised the lid of Eugene’s shoe box, which had been entrusted into his care. It was full of twenty-dollar bills banded
