Hail Mary

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Yesterday, in a small desert town called Apple Valley, ol’ Boonie was finally put to rest amid much fanfare. Jones T. Jones was there. He even shed a tear, which may or may not have been legit. Anyway, I thought he was going to miss his mummy. They had gotten along so well together.

I was still drinking too much, but that was not insurmountable. That was fixable, and someday, when I had put my own mother’s murder to rest, I would put my drinking to rest, too. And then I would ask a certain someone to marry me.

But first things first.

A door to my right opened and a bespectacled young man with no chin poked his head out. He was dressed in a white lab coat. “It’s ready, Mr. Knighthorse.”

“ How did it turn out?”

“ Great, I think. You can thank the marvels of modern technology.”

So, I followed him in. Took a seat next to a flat-screen computer monitor that was turned away from me.

“ Here you go,” he said. And turned the monitor toward me. “Twenty years, just like you asked.”

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