“What exactly is going on with the George situation?”

“He’s out.”

“Yeah, but he is going to prison?”

“Not unless Shanice agrees to take that test and testify on tape, like I told you.”

“But I thought you said he did this to his other daughters, too.”

“He did. One was his stepdaughter.”

“Can’t they testify against him?”

It looks like a lightbulb just went off in her head or something. “I never thought about asking them. It never even crossed my mind. If they did, I wonder . . . ? I’m going to call and find out. Lewis?”

“Yeah,” I say, kinda grateful that I finally offered a member of my family something that was helpful.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You’re welcome. Can I ask you something, Janelle?”

“Sure, Lewis. What?”

“Sometimes, don’t you ever wonder what you’re fighting for? I mean, doesn’t it ever seem like you mighta missed the point?”

“Yeah, but sometimes things happen to make you wake up, and if you don’t, then that makes you a fool. I’m tired of being a fool, Lewis. And what am I fighting for? Me and my daughter’s happiness and sense of well-being. If I can manage that, as far as I’m concerned I’ve done a lot.”

“I agree.”

“What about you? Do you know what you’re fighting for?”

“My sanity. Some dignity. Sobriety. Self-control. But I’ll stop there.”

“Then let’s just keep fighting,” she says, and bends over and gives me a kiss on the good side of my forehead and then leaves. I lay here and just stare at that blank blue wall for so long that it becomes a movie screen like the kind we used to go to when we were little: at the drive-in. I see myself. Cutting grass with a power lawnmower in front of a nice little ranch-style house. It’s my house. And in the driveway is a brand-new burgundy Ford 250 pickup. It’s mine. On the visor is my burgundy leather garage-door opener I invented, with Jamil’s picture under the plastic, right next to it. My hands and wrists are still deformed, but I’m finally taking the right kinda medication, and it’s helping the pain. When I finish, I walk inside my garage and look at all these cans stacked high on the shelf. My name is on the labels. I’ve got a workstation that takes up a whole wall. I’ve got every kinda tool I ever wanted. I even got a TV and stereo out here. A little refrigerator that I keep stocked with water and every now and then a Pepsi, but nothing stronger than that. I hear a car pull up behind my truck. It’s Donnetta and Todd dropping Jamil off for the weekend. We ain’t best friends, but I remembered one of the Steps in AA and made amends and apologized to both of them and they accepted it because they’re decent. I stand there and smile, waving goodbye, and when I hear the door to the kitchen open I turn to see who it is, but all I see is the tip of a woman’s sneaker sticking out between the wall and the screen door. When I blink, I’m waiting for her to come out, but the movie is over. The screen goes blank. The wall is blue again. And I’m glad I ain’t dead.