Could I write any slower? Yes.

Lunch was delicious.

Instead of hurrying out, we decided to enjoy the atmosphere - there was nowhere to hurry to, anyway. I leaned all the way back in my bench, stretching my legs out. I sipped my sweet tea, languidly, as it was meant to be. Sure my car was still broke, but what a difference a decent meal and some relaxation could bring. Life was looking good.

Chuck started up: "I said some things back there - maybe they sound a little crazy now. Well, that's how it goes. You say crazy things when you don't know what's happening. When you get scared." He chuckled. "Even I wonder how real any of that was - what I was talking about. Maybe that kid was just really good. Maybe it didn't happen. I was probably delirious. Hah!," he half-shouted, "I bet we scared that poor kid today straight out of his right mind."

"I wonder if he was just lost? Do you think we should go back and see if he's all right?"

"You gonna walk?"

"Oh, right. Well, we could ask some of these people for help. Someone here must know him."

We waited until the waitress came back. "Excuse me, miss," Chuck said, "do you know if there's anybody lost in those woods? Tall, thin kid, real pale?"

"Let's see...there was...well, not recently, no. No, the Coopers got a little turned around last week, but they weren't lost for long. Oh, but Hon, but don't say that to Mr. Cooper. He's a little touchy about that. Why do you ask?"

"We were out last night," he pointed to the camo uniforms we still wore, "and I kept thinking I heard something. Then, this morning, we saw this kid - I'm pretty sure I'd been hearing him. He was hanging around our camp. I didn't get a real good look at him, but he was tall, and thin and pale like he hadn't seen much food or sun recently. He must've been out there a while. The beers were thinking for us, so we didn't get a good look at him, and we left before we could chat."

That's odd - he'd only had a few beers yesterday. Oh - he doesn't want to admit that he was scared.

"Sorry, can't say I know of anyone like that. Did you ask the police?"

"Well, not yet, no."

"They'd know best, but I'll ask around the kitchen."

She refilled our glasses, and we returned to lounging and drinking.

I watched the sunlight drifting in through the blinds, catching flying grains of dust. It was something I'd always enjoyed - light revealing what had always been there, and in such a pretty way. The grains, once part of the ground, no more than dust and dead things, were now flying about in the glorious, golden light. Truly beautiful.

"Tell me something." I turned my attention to Chuck. "Are you still scared of death?"

He cocked his head and stared at me a moment before replying. "Damn right I am. Me being here is proof of that." He looked away. "The ones who don't fear Death meet him quickest."

"So even though you've been in combat, and seen it up close -"

"I got even more right to be afraid, I think. The rest of you all think you're real brave and fearless, but I tell you what. You ain't. Thinking things through and living them are different - I think God was warning Adam and Eve away from the apple for that reason."

"What?"

He looked up at me, then down at the table. "You know what I mean. You plan all these things out, you think you're real clever: then shit happens. You lose it. All that thinking gone to waste. All the good and high-minded stuff goes right out the window, and you just do what you have to. So I think maybe God just didn't want to see them suffer. Or making fool's plans about things they didn't understand. Good intentions making good paving stones and all that. What good did thinking ever do us?"

"You really think that?" I smiled at my own cleverness.

"Shit!" His eyes came up briefly, then he choked out a little laugh. "Excuse my Latin. I don't know. I ain't got God's number or nothing. Lots of times I wish I did. Save me a lot of prayin'. What's all this talk for anyway?"

I was a little embarassed at my melodrama. "It's nothing. I just...I guess I didn't expect you to take off back there."

He turned ever so slightly red. "Don't get me wrong. I was mostly worried about you. That kid was creepy, but I could've taken him if he really meant trouble."

"Is that why you dropped your gun?"

"You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that?" He pointed his finger at me, and he was angry, but his eyes showed just a hint of amusement.

"Well, I'm not going to trouble you anymore. I feel great now. I'll take him myself, and then you, too! I'll show you a thing or too, old-timer."

"Bah! You couldn't wrestle mustard out of a jar." He laughed.

I decided to let it slide, and resumed enjoying my afternoon sun.