Greasy Hair turned to us. “You fellas should go get an up close look. That boy won’t be botherin’ none of our women again.”
Lenny said to me, “Let’s get out of here.”
We drove in silence. I’m not sure how long we were on the road before I noticed something tapping on my heel. It was a gift from the Jimmies, a quarter-full bottle of bourbon.
“Give that to me,” said Lenny. He removed the cap and wiped the mouth with his sleeve. He tipped back the bottle and swallowed a single gulp. “To Moon.”
“To Moon,” I answered. I took the proffered bottle and a more generous swig than Lenny had allowed himself. I stretched my arm out and poured the rest on the road’s dusty shoulder. The brief stream of liquor broke into a thousand golden droplets. I flicked the bottle away and it flashed in the sun before it disappeared in the tall grass. “May we all rest in peace.”
