The two vehicles crept forward on a dirt highway in the middle of the night. The stars were so bright they cut through the thin clouds. Pete looked out the car window at the stars and felt lost in them while Vern drove the Model T coupe behind Paul’s truck.

In the car were Pete, his sister, Reese, Vern, and the bloodhound named Louisville—who sat between Pete and Vern, snoring and making smells that even hardened war criminals couldn’t endure without begging for mercy.

Pete petted the dog while he stared at the night sky. Vern had the dashboard radio playing. The preacherman on the radio hollered. Vern paid close attention while he drove.

“Why do you like this preacher so much?” asked Pete.

“J. Wilbur? Just do, I guess. I like to hear him get all riled up. He can sure get mad at the Devil.”

Pete continued to pet Louisville. The fur between her eyes was soft as silk. She had white around her snout and beneath her eyes.

“Is Louise an old dog?” Pete asked Vern.

“Yep,” said Vern. “She an old woman.”

For most of the ride, Pete had met his equal with Vern. The two talked so little that they didn’t make enough words to fill up a teacup. Pete was miles above the car, caught in the blue night and the stars. Ahead of them, he could see the silhouette of his mother in the truck cab.

The highway seemed to go on for hours. They hadn’t passed a single car all night, and none of the rural houses had lights on. It was cool outside, and Pete thanked the stars for that. The unforgiving heat of day, coupled with the drought, made the world feel merciless.

“You been on the road with your mama a long time?” asked Vern.

“Yeah,” said Pete. “A long time.”

“Us too.”

More silence.

“Where you sleep?” asked Vern.

“Oh, anywhere. Most times we sleep in the car.”

“Us too.”

Silence again.

“Do it make you tired? All this traveling ’round?”

“Yeah, my mama’s tired. I can tell. She’s tired all the time.”

“Us too.”

Pete let out a big sigh, then leaned back into his seat. He let his hand rest on the dog.

“You ever get scared?” said Vern.

“Yeah.”

“Is you scared now?”

Pete had to think about this for a moment. “A little.”

“Me too. But you know what J. Wilbur say? Blessed are the meek who shall inherit the whole earth.”

“Meek? What’s that mean?”

“Don’t know, but I prays God makes me good and meek-like so maybe I can get all sorta land I can call my own one day.”

“Me too.”

Silence passed between them.

“Where’re we going?” Pete asked.

“Butler County, Paul said.”

“What’s in Butler County?”

“Work.”

“What kind?”

Vern shrugged. “Don’t really know. I just goes where Paul goes.”