4
I woke up at my normal time and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. I took care of business, then staggered to the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge. I took a long swig and put the carton back on the top shelf.
“That’s nasty, boy.” Came a gravelly voice behind me.
I jumped and turned around. Grandpappy was sitting at the kitchen table behind a plate heaped high with eggs and bacon. “You want some?”
“Hell yeah!” I grabbed a plate and fork and fixed myself a decent breakfast. I even got a glass out of the cupboard and poured myself some more OJ. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down the hill during the week.” Grandpappy lived up in the woods behind our place, in an old cabin like the one his daddy Beauregard grew up in back in West Virginia.
“I
