“Whole, as in complete and entire?” I asked.

“No, he meant like a hole in the ground,” Raf said.

“That’s how I always think of you,” Raymond said.

Raf said, “Turns out, he meant literally—as literal as he gets. This was October when the ground was still workable and he had me dig a pond for him. More like a lake. With a shovel and wheelbarrow and pickaxe. And then he had me fill it back up. I got plenty sober, I promise,” Raf said.

“But, Raf, you forgot to stay down in the hole when you covered it,” said Raymond.

Matter

DOTTIE GREETED US AT the service delivery door around midnight. She wore a little makeup, her satin robe and slippers. I had phoned from Mario’s to say we were coming.

“Raf! Wow!” she said, embracing him. “You had us so scared.”

“I’m fine,” he said, “You been smoking stuff, Dottie?”

“Naw,” she said, and hugged Raymond.

“Hey, Pretty,” Raymond said.

“Don’t chew your hair,” Dottie told me.

Raymond said, “We figured we could help you straighten up some after the storm crowd.”

“You can, you can. Great. God yes.”

We had agreed to sit here in Dottie’s suite, away from the saloon and the taproom.

“And it’s too long since you and I shot the bull,” said Raf.

“You are the one with words,” Dottie said. “You always were.”

I said, “Thank you, Mother. Considering I’m a poet.”

“You all been to visit my ex?”

“Yeah, wonderful guy,” Raymond said. “But I can see how you’d get worn out with him.”

Dottie tilted her head left and right, the way Fredo did when some sound had him puzzled.

“I didn’t mean nothin’ bad,” Raymond said. His drawl seemed thicker, or maybe like his sun colors, just more noticeable out of his home context.

“Mario did not wear me out,” Dottie said.

Raymond blinked sadly. He said, “I have not been able to say one thing I meant since I crossed over the Mason-Dixon. I believe the cold weather’s freeze-dried my brain—’specially the part that’s in charge of word choice.”

“I’ve read about that. Happens often to Southerners,” Raf said. “They get more Southern.”

“It’s a defense,” Raymond said.

“The defense may rest,” Raf told him.

“Raf’s actually named Walter,” I said. “That’s his real name, in case either of you didn’t know.”

“Walter?” Raymond said.

“I didn’t know,” said Dottie. “That’s awful. But never mind, you’re still Raf to us.”

“Walter?” Raymond said again.

“And just when I was on your side,” Raf said to me.

In the morning, the rooms were sunny, the sky outside a cloudless blue. The four of us set to work.

We laundered blankets and bed linens, drop cloths for the furniture.