Chick glanced over at Leo. The right lens of his eyeglasses had a speck of tar in the upper corner. “You’re very fond of Allie Cat, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir, I am.”

“Good. That’s good.” Chick kept the flatbed in second gear as he drove down the hill to the river road. He was clean-shaven and tanned in the face. He didn’t look nearly as tired and distracted as he had at the beginning of the week.

“It’s hard to carry a torch when you’re head of a family, Leo, that’s all.” Leo could see the river through the trees at the base of the hill. He nodded and looked out his open window. They were passing a deep stand of poplars. The wind made their leaves twist and flutter, their silver undersides showing till they shimmied back around. Leo liked that Chick had said good, good; that must mean he’s got warm feelings about Leo and Allie together and how could he have those if he wasn’t getting at least half of them from Allie at home? “I guess a family is all I really want in life, Chick.”

Chick put on the brakes so fast Leo slid forward and hit his elbow on the dash. He looked out the windshield and saw “Call Dwight—He Paints It Right” on the side door of Dwight’s Chevy van. It was twenty feet from the flatbed, taking up the whole width of the road. Dwight must’ve gunned it out from the trees and Floyd was jerking open the passenger door, stepping out with a wooden baseball bat in his right hand, an aluminum splint and a patch of white gauze taped across his nose. Chick took off his glasses and stepped out of the cab. Leo stepped out too. He saw Dwight come around the front of the van just as Floyd rushed over and slammed the bat down on the truck’s hood. Floyd turned to face Chick. His left cheek was purple and yellow. He was breathing hard through his mouth, the gauze flaring out and sucking in at his nose.

“Have we got a problem, Floyd?” Chick’s voice sounded squeezed, but in no hurry.

“You got the problem, red chicken motherfucker!” The veins stood out on both sides of Dewey’s throat. Somebody was yanking on the inside handle of the van’s side door. Dwight reached over and let out his younger, bigger brother Olin, who Leo had seen at poker Wednesday once before. He had said hardly a word all night, drunk almost three six-packs, and had only red eyes to show it. His eyes were red now. They moved from Chick to Leo, then back to Chick, where they stayed.