He took the money from her and grinned. “When I grow up, I want to be just like you.”

“You’d look terrible in my wardrobe, you’re an Autumn.”

He shook the envelope. “Ah…sounds like…let me guess…twenty dollars?”

“Learn to juggle while blindfolded and you could take that act on the road.”

The Reverend laughed. “Oh, Ethel…what would I do without you?”

“Don’t you be sweet-talking me, mister. I’m immune to your charms.”

“No you’re not.”

Ethel smiled; her smile is a wonderful thing to behold. “No, I’m not, but we can’t have you thinking you’re special or anything like that, now, can we?” She kissed his cheek, smiled at me and Timmy, and was just going out the door at the same time Sheriff Ted Jackson was coming in. The sheriff stood aside and held the door open for her.

“Evenin’, Sheriff,” said Ethel. “There some kind of trouble?”

“Only my troubled heart—why won’t you run off with me, Ethel, why?”

She laughed and smacked his arm. “Ted, one of these days I’m gonna take you up on that, and then what’ll you do?”

“Rejoice. Sing. Dance in the street.”

Ethel shook her head. “You men. What goes on in those heads of yours?”

“Sweet dreams of holding you in my arms, Ethel,” said Jackson. As Ethel walked away toward her car, Jackson called out: “Don’t leave me! I’ll crumble. I love you. Come back!”

I looked at Timmy. “Wow. Two floor shows tonight.”

Timmy snorted a mischievous laugh and said, in a conspiratorial tone, “Terrible, just terrible.”

Jackson came inside, closing the door behind him. “You know, some night that woman is going to haul off and knock my teeth down my throat. And I’ll probably deserve it.”

“I keep a camera at the ready for that very day,” replied the Reverend. He shook Jackson’s hand. “Thanks for coming, Ted.”

Jackson shrugged. “My social calendar suddenly cleared up.”

We all knew that Jackson’s wife had left him after she miscarried. She’s living down in Oregon with her sister now. Jackson was elected Sheriff last year, after having served as a deputy for something like six years. The new title and new uniform and new power hadn’t changed him at all; he still looked like he was waiting for someone to come out of the shadows and take it all away from him. He and the Reverend both have a tense, lonely way about them, which is I guess what drew them together as friends. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what they had in common, but I guess that doesn’t really matter when there’s someone you can always depend on for company and small talk over a cup of coffee or a sandwich or a smoke.

They stood there chatting about Jackson’s new responsibilities, the upcoming City Council budget meetings, the weather, and just when I was about to interrupt and ask what was going on, Jackson said, “So how long you need me here?”

The Reverend checked his watch. “An hour, two at the most.”