Confetti guns blow, purging paper chunk squalls. Towers of canned food teeter at every turn. Corn, carrots, beets. Some brought toothpaste and asprin. Others wrote checks. A senior raves in a corner.
Reggie Lauderdale makes his exodus. He sasses up the staircase and through the corridor and by the bathroom and beyond two kissing boys and over a heap of telephone books and, finally, into Dolly and Herb’s room. Muscling off his pumps, he places them beside his now famed duos. Reggie spies the party sludge that spots each stem.
To no one but himself, he says, “Tuxedo time.”
Each game night Elmer Mott chats to Paulette, a former real estate agent. He carries Bob Henley’s bingo bag to his ancient Oldsmobile. He embraces Don Miller. He shakes many, many hands, and winks at women.
Elmer Mott
