Along the small, pebbled shore that was encased with rising juts of rocks, lit torches were stuck in. Further up the shore, a big bonfire had been built, surrounded by logs with blankets over them.

Snake lay in the boat, all but his face shrouded in black, a large Harley-Davidson patch resting on his chest.

I took it all in, fighting tears, thinking when they said they would arrange things, they meant they’d arrange them.

Perfectly.

Jabber was already down there, having been brought down without an audience since he had to be carried. He was in a wheelchair on the rocks by the boat, five bottles of Jack Daniel’s sitting on the rocks by his wheels.

We got to the bottom and everyone traversed the beach toward Jabber, but Abel let me go when I got close.

I looked up to him even as Dad kept pulling me.

Abel nodded toward the boat.

I nodded back and let Dad guide me to Jabber. Moose and Poncho followed.

The rest stayed behind, fanning out along the beach, silent.

I tried not to look at Snake, but I couldn’t help it. His throat was covered, but I could see his face in the waning sunlight.

They should have covered him. He looked peaceful. He never looked peaceful. He always looked…something.

“Let’s do this,” Jabber grunted, flinching as he reached down to a bottle of Jack.

Moose and Poncho went to get theirs and Dad let me go to grab the last two. He handed one to me.

I looked around, not knowing what to do, then followed their lead as they busted open the caps, lifted them to their lips, and took a deep tug.

My throat was burning and my eyes were on fire when I was done, but I sucked back air and controlled the burn as Dad turned to me.

“Say good-bye, little girl,” he murmured.

I knew what he meant by that, so I swallowed, nodded, and moved to the side of the boat.

I squatted down and stared at Snake.

“Thanks for teaching me checkers,” I whispered. My throat started burning a different way as I croaked, “And thank you for dying for me.”

The tears slid down my cheeks as I lifted my hand and touched my fingertips to the gold crucifix I’d clasped around my neck. I then moved my fingers to my lips and got out of my squat to lean over the side of the boat, reach out, and touch them to Snake’s cold cheek.

I held them there until I felt hands on me. I looked behind me and saw Dad and Moose.

I moved away. Moose moved in. He did what he had to do. Then Poncho did. After Poncho, Moose wheeled Jabber close and he did. And finally, Dad did.