Blake saw E. P.’s eyes become glassy. The man kept blinking, and he began to wobble. He shut his eyes and opened them slowly. “Gonna retire and get me a dog to sit on my front porch . . .”

Blake waited.

“Yessir,” said E. P. with a thick tongue. “J. Wilbur Chaplain ain’t nothing. Nothing.” He rocked backward in his chair and almost fell over. He laughed to himself until a few tears came from his eyes. He started snorting a few minutes later. Laughter gave way to sleep. Soon E. P. was making the same snoring sound a buzz saw makes.

Blake stood and slapped E. P.’s cheek gently. He placed E. P.’s hat over the man’s wide face. Then loosened E. P.’s tie.

Blake squatted on his heels before E. P. and looked at him square. “Coot’s got your jaw and your eyes, and now he’s about to have all your money too.”

Fourteen
Barbecuing the Moon

A mosquito landed on Vern’s forehead. He smacked it so hard, it almost made him wet his pants and forget his own name. “That’s the third one I kilt in a minute,” said Vern. “These things about to carry me away.”

Paul slapped his arm a few times. “Just kilt two my own self.”

The trees looked dark purple by the light of the moon. A chorus of frogs croaked in the friendly way Alabamian frogs do. But their songs were drowned out by a radio. The truck door was slung open, the sound of a preacher coming through the small speaker, followed by applause and screaming hallelujahs.

Paul was feeding the baby from a glass bottle. Vern had followed Paul’s instructions and boiled the glass bottles in a pot of water until the bottles were so hot they scalded his hands. They filled these bottles with what Paul called “form-luh,” which was white powder mixed with water. Vern had never heard of formluh before, but the baby must’ve known what it was, because whenever she didn’t have a bottle in her mouth, she screamed like her pants were on fire.

Paul leaned against a tree, feeding the baby in his arms, whispering to her. It was the first time Vern had allowed Paul to feed her. Vern didn’t like letting go of the baby. It made him jealous. He didn’t want the baby to accidentally start loving Paul more than she loved him.

“Can we turn that radio off?” said Paul. “All that hollering’s keeping her awake. I want her to fall asleep when she’s done eating.”

“But,” said Vern, “it’s J. Wilbur Chaplain.”

“So what?”

“So I always listen to preaching on Wednesday night.”

“Well, now you got a baby, and things got to change. Babies need sleep, you know?”

“Always listen to J. Wilbur on Wednesdays.”