Outside, the wind picked up as Otto urinated. Something seemed to move in the cluster of ailanthus behind the store. As he glanced back at the men in the safety of that lighted and sealed room, the night opened its mouth, breathed upon his neck. Terror rose in him. Buttoning himself quickly, he hurried inside.

As he went to return to his seat, Bennet said, “Finn’s coming in for you.”

“What?”

“You’re wiped out.”

“Wiped out?” Otto looked confused.

“I’m going to send Sherman around for the truck tomorrow.”

“I just got that truck!”

Swiveling his head like a turret, Bennet leveled a look of cold disgust at Otto. “You said some things you shouldn’t have said tonight.”

“I’m drunk. I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry, Sal.”

Sal looked away with angry pride.

“I’m calling in what you owe me,” Bennet said. “All of it. And I want you out of that house in a month. That’s the foreman’s house.”

“You’re firing me?” He was incredulous. “I’m drunk. I was kidding around. How could I get a job? What job could I get?”

“Whatever it is, it better pay well. You owe me a shitload.”

“But I thought we was just playing for the hell of it.” Otto looked around for support, but none of the men would meet his eyes.

“Ah, look, Mr. B,” Finn said, “he was just joking around.”

“Mr. B, he’s just drunk, is all,” Goldwin put in.

Bennet seemed to consider these two appeals. Finally he said, “I’m a sporting man. You owe me near four grand and your truck. You’ve insulted Sal, Goldy, and Magnus. That’s on this side.” He tapped the table with his left hand. “What have you got to balance things up?” He tapped the table with his right.

“What do you mean?”

“What have you got that I want?”

“Got an uncle in Colorado might leave me some money. I could sign it over to you.”

“’Less you’re going to go out there and kill him, you’ve got jack,” Bennet said.

“But I thought we was just, you know….”

Bennet pointed a pistol-like finger at him. “If I haven’t called in your bets before this, that was my choice. Tonight you opened your goddamn mouth one time too many.” Withdrawing his hand and leaning back, Bennet took a thoughtful moment, pinching the wings of his nose. “Now the only things you got left is a wife who’d be in hog heaven to see you in the shit, lives a thousand miles away, and is uglier than you. And you got that girl.”

“Shannon?” He peered at Bennet as if trying to discern something in a fog.

“That simple girl,” Bennet said, as if refusing to acknowledge she had a name.

“I don’t understand.”

“You understand.”

“But she’s—”