On my way back to the reservation, I stopped by Alice’s house one more time. The light in her window was on. I could see what she was doing. She was reading a book, lying on her stomach on her bed, a cup of some hot beverage steaming on the bedside table.
Was she aware of the hold she had over me?
Was she causing me this pain deliberately?
I needed a drink. This kind of sorrow, only whiskey could heal.
I scouted the perimeter once more before I headed to the bar, ready to drown my sorrows in Jack Daniels or whatever cheap stuff I could drink in large amounts.
The bar was a dingy joint on the interstate well out of town. I couldn’t afford to visit a bar in the town. People would see me, people would talk. At least here, the only other patrons beside me were truck drivers, bikers, and t
