Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, I cut the rope and lowered the corpse. It weighed almost nothing. I pulled the sleeping bag off the bed and zipped the body into it, found a wheelbarrow in the yard, and used that to move the bundle. Wildflowers grew at the base of the pine tree where I dug the grave, shoveling through duff to packed earth. I kept digging until I was waist-deep in the hole, then rolled the body into it and recited what I could recall of the funeral prayer—earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The sun was dropping fast by the time I’d refilled the grave and spread pine needles to cover my tracks. Back in the Econoline, I lay on my cot. I dreaded the internal battle I was sure was coming over what to do next, but got to sleep just like that and didn’t wake until after dark.

The kid turned to look at me when I opened the door to the shed. I stepped inside, put on the light, and threw him the keys.

“Get up,” I said, waving Czarnecki’s .45.

“Where’s the old man?” he said.

I wasn’t in the mood to explain. I pointed the gun at him and said, “We’re leaving. Get yourself out to the camper.”

He detached his chain from the bolt, picked up his slop bucket, and shuffled to the truck. When he was sitting in the crate, I gave him a tuna sandwich.

“Thanks, boss,” he said.

“Lie down,” I said, and lowered the lid.

An hour later I was headed south on the 395, driving the pickup through the night. I don’t know where I’m going yet, but it feels right to be on the move. I’m still not thinking too far ahead. I couldn’t stay at Czarnecki’s place, so I split. I couldn’t leave the kid, so I swapped the Econoline for the old man’s truck so I could bring him along. And that’s where things stand now.

After a few hours I got off the highway at this truck stop in Bishop. I’m parked facing the Sierras, and the peaks are glowing even though there’s no moon out, patches of snow bright white against the blue granite and black sky. I wish you could see how pretty it is.

I’ll rest here in the cab, as I wouldn’t be able to sleep in the camper beside the kid. He’s my next problem, and I’ll have to deal with him soon.

Good night, baby. I love you.

TODAY’S PASSAGE: Don’t let fear hold you back from your destiny. Be a hero. Strap on your armor and charge. If you give it your all, there is victory even in failure.

—Listen, Respond, Win: A New Path to Success
by Dr. Christine Pellegrino

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