Strange Weather Page #2

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When he was real little

and I barely had

two pennies to rub together,

there was one thing

we would always do on Saturdays,

and that was walk up to Louie's

and get hot dogs.

I'd get two everythings.

He'd get a chili dog.

We'd both get lemonades,

and then we'd walk home.

It didn't matter what it was

like out weather-wise.

Eating our hot dogs, you know,

talking about this and that.

Even in the rain.

We considered it good luck

to eat a hot dog in the rain.

Once Walker got done

with his lemonade,

he'd hold my hand

up till he was around 10 or so,

and then he quit.

Well, the time's gonna come

when a boy eventually lets go

of his mama's hand.

When he was getting

his business plan together

for grad school,

he wanted to start a chain

of family restaurants

where you can make

your own hot dog,

and I thought to myself,

I took this child to museums

and read him good books

and paid for cello lessons,

and all he's hanging onto

is the hot dogs.

Well, he had his own ideas

about what he wanted to do.

He worked the whole thing out,

real detailed.

I know, 'cause

I typed it up for him.

And then his professor

handed it back

and told him that business plan

was never gonna fly.

Was that the professor

you stared at real hard

when he parked his Honda

by the light downtown and then,

poof, his engine died?

Yeah.

He was only 24.

If I could've gotten him

over that hump.

If... if I could've

just helped him...

Get a little further.

If he even made it to 30,

he would've been okay.

I know.

I know you believe that.

But you just gotta quit blaming

yourself eventually, baby.

Mm.

Here.

Oh, that a**hole.

Oh, yeah, that guy.

You know, he used to come

into the bar

and try and order expensive

bottles of champagne

he knew damn well

we didn't carry.

He drove by in his Audi

blasting rap music

and hollering at Walker

when he was cutting your grass.

I forgot all about that.

Watch those crumbs, Clay.

Honey, I mean,

even if he stole Walker's idea,

you can't prove it.

If I can find a copy of Walker's

old business plan, I can.

What are you gonna do?

You gonna sue him?

You want his money?

That's not what I want.

Why not?

You could use it.

Maybe.

That's not what I'm after.

When byrd called me,

it was like something...

I don't know, I don't know

how to describe it.

It was like something

filled up this room.

It was pushing at the walls,

like they were vibrating

or something.

I felt Walker's presence

in here so strong.

I hadn't felt that way

since the night he died.

Every molecule of me

was alive to him.

He was calling to me.

What else can I do

except try to answer?

Darcy baylor.

My, what a surprise.

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