He c****d his head as the plates were set down, seeming to study me. “You know what else? He said the worst thing about Hell is that you could still see Heaven, up there, just beyond the firmament, forever out of reach. Now—what do you suppose he meant by that?”
I stared at him numbly, utterly bewildered.
“I didn’t know either—and still don’t. It was just s**t my dad said.”
And then we ate—quickly, silently—and he left, followed immediately by The Jockey and then Luther, who remained just outside the door, watching us, guarding us.
––––––––
I’ll confess I jumped when the starting pistol fired—which seemed inordinately loud even from the top of the bleachers—mainly because I’d turned around to look at the cloud, which had doubled in size and now claimed nearly one quarter of the sky—sp
