Page 20 of Forty

“Boots!”

He grins, and this guy has the best smile. It’s goofy as hell, teeth missing, but as innocent and joyful as a baby. He doesn’t look any older than he was when I left town, but he was old as shit then.

“Wild child!”

I’m not sure if he remembers me. He knew my name back in the day, but he always called me wild child.

“What are you doing?” I plop down next to him, slide off my white sneakers, and dangle my feet over the side, dipping my toes in the river. It’s deliciously freezing.

“Drinking for fish. Fishing for beer.” He wrinkles his weathered forehead. “I don’t know, baby. I was lost in my dreams.”

“Good dreams?”

“Oh, yeah. Always. Help yourself.” He bumps a red cooler with a wheel. “And hand me another while you’re at it.”

I grab myself a cold one and crack one open for him.

There’s a heron swooping in for a landing, and a gentle breeze rustling the trees. I close my eyes and tilt my head back to soak in the sun.

“You been gone awhile, haven’t you?” Boots hands me his pole. I lift it high enough to see he still has a worm on the hook. I give it another cast, but I’m rusty. It doesn’t go far.

“Yup. Ten years.”

“You married with kids now? All boring?”

I laugh. “Nope.”

“I got myself a grandkid.”

“Oh, yeah? Charge gave you a grandbaby?”

“Yup. His name’s Jimmy. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

“That’s a good thing to have.”

“I don’t know. You and me done okay without one, yeah?” He snorts and nudges my arm with a wheel.

“It does seem so.” I smile, enjoying the prickle of my skin warming, listening to the soft lap of waves against the riverbank. Far away, a screen door slams. I wonder what Shirlene is doing in the house. I should go see if she needs help, but it’s so peaceful here.

“That’s what’s wrong with this new generation. They can’t live in the moment. They always got plans and shit.”

“Plans are for suckers.”

“Amen, sister.” Boots holds out his beer. I bump my can to his. We both chug. He beats me, but not by much. “You get it.”

“Hasn’t gotten me anywhere.” I smile ruefully and tug on the line. No bites yet.

“Got you back here. ‘Bout time. Forty’s asshole is clenched so tight he’s turning his shits to diamonds.”

I snort. I’d kind of been thinking that Boots had no idea who I was. “I don’t know. I saw him last night. He gave me a lot of shit. No diamonds.”

Boots cackles. “You keep at him, girl. Boy’s not totally lost it yet. Not like Heavy.”

“Heavy’s lost it?”

“Yeah. It’s a sad thing.” Boots shakes his head, but his eyes twinkle. “He talks all the time about ‘the performance gap’ and ‘untapped markets.’ He don’t make no sense no more.”

“If Forty’s that far gone, I think I’ll leave him alone.”

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