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I
had
a
funny
feeling
that
he
had
been
standing
behind
me
for
the
last
five
minutes
or
so
,
clearing
his
throat
decorously
under
the
chainsaw
's
aggressive
roar
.
I
had
n't
gotten
a
really
good
look
at
him
this
summer
.
He
had
lost
weight
,
but
it
did
n't
look
good
.
It
should
have
,
because
he
had
been
carrying
around
an
extra
twenty
pounds
,
but
it
did
n't
.
His
wife
had
died
the
previous
November
.
Cancer
.
Aggie
Bibber
told
Steffy
that
.
Aggie
was
our
resident
necrologist
.
Every
neighborhood
has
one
.
From
the
casual
way
Norton
had
of
ragging
his
wife
and
belittling
her
(
doing
it
with
the
contemptuous
ease
of
a
veteran
matador
inserting
banderillas
in
an
old
bull
's
lumbering
body
)
,
I
would
have
guessed
he
'd
be
glad
to
have
her
gone
.
If
asked
,
I
might
even
have
speculated
that
he
'd
show
up
this
summer
with
a
girl
twenty
years
younger
than
he
was
on
his
arm
and
a
silly
my-cock-has-died-and-gone-to-heaven
grin
on
his
face
.
But
instead
of
the
silly
grin
there
was
only
a
new
batch
of
age
lines
,
and
the
weight
had
come
off
in
all
the
wrong
places
,
leaving
sags
and
folds
and
dewlaps
that
told
their
own
story
.
For
one
passing
moment
I
wanted
only
to
lead
Norton
to
a
patch
of
sun
and
sit
him
beside
one
of
the
fallen
trees
with
my
can
of
beer
in
his
hand
,
and
do
a
charcoal
sketch
of
him
.
"
Hi
,
Dave
,
"
he
said
,
after
a
long
moment
of
awkward
silence
-
a
silence
that
was
made
even
louder
by
the
absence
of
the
chainsaw
's
racket
and
roar
.
He
stopped
,
then
blurted
:
"
That
tree
.
That
damn
tree
.
I
'm
sorry
.
You
were
right
.
"
I
shrugged
.
He
said
,
"
Another
tree
fell
on
my
car
.
"
"
I
'm
sorry
to
h
-
"
I
began
,
and
then
a
horrid
suspicion
dawned
.
"
It
was
n't
the
T-Bird
,
was
it
?
"
"
Yeah
.
It
was
.
"
Norton
had
a
1960
Thunderbird
in
mint
condition
,
only
thirty
thousand
miles
.
It
was
a
deep
midnight
blue
inside
and
out
.
He
drove
it
only
summers
,
and
then
only
rarely
.
He
loved
that
Bird
the
way
some
men
love
electric
trains
or
model
ships
or
target-shooting
pistols
.
"
That
's
a
bitch
,
"
I
said
,
and
meant
it
.
He
shook
his
head
slowly
.
"
I
almost
did
n't
bring
it
up
.
Almost
brought
the
station
wagon
,
you
know
.
Then
I
said
what
the
hell
,
I
drove
it
up
and
a
big
old
rotten
pine
fell
on
it
.
The
roof
of
it
's
all
bashed
in
.
And
I
thought
I
'd
cut
it
up
...
the
tree
,
I
mean
...
but
I
ca
n't
get
my
chainsaw
to
fire
up
...
I
paid
two
hundred
dollars
for
that
sucker
...
and
...
and
...
"
His
throat
began
to
emit
little
clicking
sounds
.
His
mouth
worked
as
if
he
were
toothless
and
chewing
dates
.
For
one
helpless
second
I
thought
he
was
going
to
stand
there
and
bawl
like
a
kid
on
a
sandlot
.
Then
he
got
himself
under
some
halfway
kind
of
control
,
shrugged
,
and
turned
away
as
if
to
look
at
the
chunks
of
wood
I
had
cut
up
.
