. . . Thomas Wolfe

" dgar, wake up. We're in San Angelo . . . you said we could stop here and grab a bite to eat. Come on, now, wake up for 'Crissakes."

It was Richmond's voice coming through the fog Edgar was lost in and it was the last voice he wanted hear.

"Dadgum you Richmond. . . . Can't you see I'm sleeping here? Why couldn't you just drive on awhile and let a man get some sleep?"

When Edgar finally opened his eyes, they were in the parking lot of a drive-in restaurant in the middle of a minor dust storm. It was late September and the dust storms always came along just before the first blue norther blew in. Edgar had grown up in this part of West Texas. The thought of being right smack dab in the middle of it once again didn't quite fit in with his vacation plans. Nor, for that matter, did Richmond, his ne'er-do-well brother-in-law. Edgar's wife, Leota, had had this idea of going to see the Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and before you know it, as usual, Richmond and his wife Cora had invited themselves along.

There was always a catch when it came to Richmond and Cora. This time it was that they didn't have quite enough money saved up to make the trip. Cora came up with this plan that Richmond would come on over to Austin and work in Edgar's machine shop for a couple of weeks to earn enough for them to make the trip. It wasn't enough to just send Richmond over to get in his hair, but with Richmond coming over from Odessa, Leota decided she'd just take a bus on out to Odessa and keep her sister, Cora, company while the two men worked in the shop. After all, it would work out just fine that the two men could leave Austin and pick up the women in Odessa because it was right on the way to New Mexico. Edgar had suggested that he simply lend Richmond the money for the trip and save a lot of bus fare in the process. Actually, it would have saved him the nuisance of tripping over Richmond's dead ass for two weeks, but Cora wouldn't hear of such a thing as Richmond taking out a loan from Edgar.

"Richmond, I think I'll just sit this one out. Why don't you just go on in and get yourself a little something to eat while I finish this nap? . . . Oh . . . and while you're at it, bring me back a cup of coffee when you come back."

Edgar had never really taken a good hard look at Richmond from a profile. If fact, he tried not to look at Richmond at all. But here in the heat of late afternoon with a brown haze settling in, he noticed that Richmond had the roundest head he'd ever seen. It wasn't sort of egg shaped like everyone else's, it was just round . . . just a bit on the piggish side of round. Richmond didn't really have a neck, his big 'ole round head just practically sat right on his shoulders which didn't amount to much either.

"Well, don't cha want somethin' to eat?" Richmond asked. "I mean, after all, I could get somethin' to go for ya."

"I told you, Richmond . . . I just want a cup of coffee . . . black, no sugar, no cream. . . . Think you can manage that?" Edgar scoffed.

Richmond huffed his way out of the Dodge and Edgar gave a sigh of relief as he watched him lumber off towards the indoor dining area.

As Edgar was drifting back into sleep, he remembered Leota's last words as she was boarding the Greyhound for Odessa. She said, "Now I know you don't much care for this arrangement, but honestly, Edgar, Richmond tries to do a good job and I bet once you get used to the situation, why, you'll hardly notice he's there."

He'd kissed her cheek and whispered, "Fat Chance," in her ear which she promptly ignored. I mean, after all, it's just damn near impossible not to notice a six foot two, three hundred pound nit wit who daily raids your refrigerator and never buys his own cigarettes.

Disgusted with himself for even thinking about Richmond, Edgar slipped off into sleep dreaming himself far away from the drive-in restaurant parking lot in San Angelo, Texas and the dust storm creating an eerie glow to the drive-in's neon sign.

He was back on the Panhandle in 1922 working at a gas station just on the outskirts of Floydada. He'd met Leota there. She was the sister of his best friend's girl, Maggie. Maggie had fancied herself as some kind of flapper. She wore her hair bobbed and her dresses just barely touched her dimpled knees. He'd catch a glimpse of Leota now and then when Maggie would take her into town to go shopping. Sometimes they'd stop at the station for gasoline and he'd try to strike up a conversation with Leota. Each time she'd act as though she didn't have the faintest who she was talking to and he'd have to introduce himself again. He must've introduced himself to Leota at least fifteen different times before she finally acknowledged his acquaintance.

She was the smallest woman in her family which consisted of five girls and two boys. Even with being the smallest, she was five-four. She was so thin that Edgar had been afraid to touch her on their wedding night. She had ash blonde hair which she kept in braids wrapped around her head and eyes the color of fresh pine needles. It was those bright green eyes that had stolen Edgar's heart. The first time she turned her head and he caught sight of those eyes, he was in love. Leota's family was dutch and her skin was like polished ivory. She had fine high check bones and her hair would bleach to platinum around her face in the summer sun. Being as how all the other girls in the family were a bit on the stocky side, not a one of them under five foot ten, Leota, who could eat like a horse and still remain as frail as a whippoorwill, was considered the freak of the group and often took a good deal of ribbing about her size. His best friend, Harvey, could hardly believe his ears when Edgar persisted in nagging him into setting up a double date with he and Maggie.

Leota was sixteen then. She was just about to graduate from High School. Her Father's name was Max, and every time Harvey and Edgar would come to the farm to pick up Maggie and Leota, Max would insist on calling Edgar aside to remind him that Leota was definitely going on to college in the fall. Every one of his kids, except for Maggie, had finished college and Leota was not to be led astray.

He was dreaming about those summers when Leota was home from college. They were sitting on the edge of the water tank out on her Daddy's farm, kicking their bare feet in the water and laughing . . . chuckling at the hot summer sun with their feet in the cool of the water tank. Leota was sporting her new bobbed hair cut, which her father had blamed him for, and the sky was like parched cotton leaving no distance between the land and the sky. Edgar had his hand on Leota's thigh and was just about to kiss her high tanned cheek when Richmond slammed the car door, aborting any chance of finishing the dream.

It was almost dark outside. Even through the dust Edgar could tell that day was behind them and they were late . . . he was never late getting to Leota. He checked his watch at five after seven which meant that Richmond had dawdled in that restaurant for two and half hours.

"Richmond, now just what the hell have you been doing in there for all this time? . . . Did they have to send to China for a chair your size? . . . The girls are gonna have the State Troopers out looking for us. Did you even get my coffee?" Edgar snapped as he straightened himself in the front seat.

"Well, I met this fellow from Longview . . . ya know . . . one of those Piney woods youngsters. . .he was wantin' to talk about the oil boom and the job prospects out in Odessa. I felt sorry for him, Edgar . . . his clothes were just like loose rags. Guess I just lost track of the time. It don't mean nothin' by Cora if I'm late anyhow . . . she's probably been cursin' me all day just for comin' home at all and Leota don't say nothin' sharp when Cora's around."

"I got your coffee though . . . black, no cream, extra sugar." Richmond babbled, holding out the coffee for Edgar in one hand and searching for the car keys in his pocket with the other.

Before Richmond could get the key in the ignition, Edgar jumped out of the car and headed for the driver's side.

He said, "Richmond, you just scoot your fat self over and let me drive for awhile. I don't blame Cora one 'iota' for not carin' about your where-a-bouts, but Leota's a different story . . . you don't hear Leota say sharp words when Cora's 'round because she whispers . . . but she's bound to have a few of 'em to slap me with tonight . . . may you never hear one of her whispers. . . . You know what the whisper usually is Richmond? . . . It's just one word pickle head . . . 'NO' . . . and I ain't seen Leota in two weeks. So, while you're a thinking through this trouble you've gotten us into . . . sittin' in there gnawing the ears off some East Texas greenhorn about things you know nothin' about, I hope you wear yourself out and sleep on into Odessa. It's easier listenin' to you snore than to hear you talk times like these. Good Gosh, you can't even order a cup of coffee right and you ain't had anything to say worth listenin' to since Christ was in diapers. I'm no fool . . . we both know who started some conversation up in a drive-in . . . how else would the guy know you were even from Odessa . . . two and a half hours. . . ."

Edgar was ranting and raving, waving his right hand in Richmond's face as he pulled the Dodge back out into the highway. All for naught, Richmond was asleep.

Edgar took the business route through Midland. He wanted to see all the construction going on in the downtown area. The cranes and buildings loomed up over the prairie through the darkness and the dust. It was a boomtown preparing to open it's modern doors to America.

His brother, Sam, owned a dry cleaning chain in Lubbock and Midland. He also owned most of the liquor stores on the strips just outside both towns along the highway. He'd asked Edgar to go in business with him some years ago. Sam figured all those oil millionaires were gonna need clean clothes and plenty of drink if they were gonna live out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to look at but flatland, cotton, and oilwells. Sam had been right but Edgar had declined saying you couldn't pay him enough to move back to God forsaken West Texas. He sometimes wished he hadn't been so hasty in making that decision. . .especially tonight. . .for Leota's sake.

The streets in Midland were all four lanes. Trees had been imported from all over the country to spiff the place up a bit. It was still early, only half past eight, yet the streets of Midland were deserted. They hadn't imported enough people yet to make the four lane streets worth while.

It seemed to him there was a Baptist Church on every street corner. If there was one thing Edgar disliked more than Republicans, it had to be bible quotin', teetotlin' Baptists. Three years ago, he'd ordered Richmond out of his house for wearing an I LIKE IKE button during the fifty-two elections.

Even with as much as he disliked Richmond, he wished that old boy would wake up now and talk awhile. The streets of Midland were so quiet and still; it was enough to put any man into a coma.

Odessa was about twenty-five miles west of Midland. It was definitely considered the wrong side of the tracks. All the oilfield workers and just plain riff-raff lived over in Odessa.

Richmond and Cora managed a run down apartment complex there. There wasn't much to running the place. All the tenants had jobs so the rents were paid on time. The grass hadn't grown in Odessa since the twenties so the upkeep on the grounds merely consisted of Richmond waltzing around with a garden hose two or three times a year washing the dirt off the sidewalks. Edgar wondered how in the world a woman as nice as Cora could've gotten herself stuck way out here with nothing but Richmond and Odessa.

Cora had been a good friend and confidante to Edgar for the past few months. He told her all the things he couldn't bring himself to tell Leota. That's why he'd consented to taking this trip. He was hoping for a time of silence when the phone didn't ring or the washer didn't stop or dinner wasn't burning. He just wanted a few hours of grace because he knew he had to tell Leota. He knew they had to talk about her future. She'd be spending that future and all of his future alone.

"Cora, I'm going to put this chicken back in the oven now. I've got a feelin' that those boys are getting' close to home. I'll give 'em another fifteen minutes 'fore I get my dander up. After all, I know how that Richmond of yours can dilly-dally," Leota called out from the kitchen.

Cora was reading the newspaper in the living room of their small apartment. Leota thought to herself that they must eat out a lot down at that little steak place on the corner because the kitchen in their apartment was the size of her pantry at home. Cora had been telling her earlier that apartments like these were the wave of the future. Leota couldn't make any sense out of folks in West Texas cramming themselves all together in these ugly cinder block boxes when they were surrounded by miles of flat open space where they could build nice brick houses.

She leaned against the kitchen sink toying with the pocket of her apron and wishing she'd never come out here to Odessa. Edgar had been just too darned agreeable of late and she'd spent the entire two weeks pondering his new disposition. Each night she'd gone to sleep picturing the waves in Edgar's hair and wishing for the touch of his calloused hands. She couldn't recall ever missing him so much. They had a bond between them and even though by circumstance, they'd been separated before for longer periods of time than two weeks, this time apart had been a difficult one.

She'd acquired this impatience with time that she couldn't understand. Every movement was to the clock on the wall, and the time, or the stopping of it, was all she could think about. She had just turned fifty in August. For the first time in her life the passage of the days, from hour to hour seemed to be flying by so quickly now.

All of her life she'd wanted to speed things up a bit. During her courtship to Edgar she'd wanted college to go by in a day so they could marry, so she could be a woman and know all those secret things her sister Maggie had told her she would find with her husband. With their daughter, Julie, she'd been so anxious for Julie to grow up and start a life of her own so that she and Edgar could be alone again. Of late, she'd actually begun to miss Julie's presence. It all seemed so peculiar that she should miss her now because Julie had married and moved away some nine years ago.

She heard a honk out in the parking lot and knew by its flat roar in the dusty night that it was the Dodge and Edgar had finally arrived. She stationed herself just inside the front door, solidly intent on berating Edgar and Richmond for their tardiness before either of them could make themselves comfortable.

Richmond came barreling in first, leaving Edgar out in the parking lot to haul in the suitcases. By the time Leota had finished scowling at Richmond, she decided it wasn't much worth spoiling the evening by picking at Edgar. After all, the strangeness of his mood lately wouldn't make badgering him a challenge. He'd just say, "yes Leota" or "no Leota". He wouldn't grin and crack jokes to try to change her mind on this night . . . he might find a grin but there would be no jokes or laughter tonight.

Cora took on the responsibility of berating them. She accused Richmond of getting the two men lost which Richmond doggedly denied with a grunt and a claim that even a post couldn't get lost out in the flatlands. He headed straight for the refrigerator, mouth agape, with Cora right on his heels.

By the time Edgar finished unloading the Dodge and cleaning out the trash Richmond had left behind in the floorboard, there was one drumstick and a half scoop of mashed potatoes left on the stove. There were plenty of turnip greens left since Richmond didn't care much for greens; neither did Edgar for that matter, but with Richmond around you took what was left of the spoils and thanked the Lord he'd left you those.

It was nice just sitting across the table from Leota watching her green eyes sparkle over his can of Falstaff beer. She hadn't aged a bit in his eyes. She still wore that same bobbed hairstyle, now sprinkled with gray. Still thin as a rail, she was, with that ivory skin carrying some fine lines of wisdom just around her eyes. You couldn't see those lines unless she wasn't smiling and, Lord, Leota almost always smiles.

Cora and Edgar washed up the supper dishes while Richmond and Leota watched a John Wayne movie, Red River, on television. Cora was a very large woman and with the size of the kitchen, Edgar spent most of his kitchen duty dodging Cora's elbows or keeping his feet tucked away from her path.

"Cora, you didn't tell Leota anything . . . did you?" Edgar asked.

"Nope . . . not a word . . . but you're gonna have to tell her soon. You know you can't keep a secret from Leota. She knows there's somethin' in the wind. I reckon you ain't been yourself lately . . . she's mentioned that a time to two. I'm hopin' she never knows that you told me first . . . she'd never forgive that, us being sisters and all . . . she'd always wonder why I didn't just come right out and tell her the truth. You should've told her months ago," Cora said in a whisper.

She studied the face of her brother-in-law. She felt she'd known him all her life yet she'd never asked herself if she loved him. He was family, he was part of what they were together, he was a presence she accepted as tradition in the cycle of the familial. She was embarrassed now to ask herself if she'd ever really known the heart of the man, this member of her family who was as much a part of her being as her own right hand. To be without him would mean a loss of part of her own heart. They would all have to learn what it was he'd contributed to make their lives a complete entity in itself and they would all have to join together to fill that void within their hearts as individuals.

Richmond and Cora had a sofa bed in the living room for occasional guests. Leota now lay wide awake beside Edgar listening to the dust tapping on the window pane. In the morning, that dust would have worked its way in to rest on the windowsill. There was a mystery to the dust out here, she thought. She couldn't tolerate the dust when she'd lived on the panhandle, now it intrigued her. It was a queer thing how the dust would creep into the house even with all the doors and windows shut tight. You couldn't build walls thick enough to keep God's earth from interferring with your life.

Edgar was asleep. They'd made love quietly with Edgar's gentle patience. In the darkness, when it was over and with the dust pounding at the window, she'd been reluctant to let Edgar withdraw from her body. It was as if holding him there inside of her, lost there inside of her warmth, could stop all notion of time and preserve all memories. There were so many nights of secret memories to recall between their two bodies. It was as though there was a capsule of two hearts safe and sheltered there within her body.

It was stuffy in that room, there in late September, in Odessa, Texas, with the dust rolling in around them and through them. Leota drifted off to sleep during the wee hours of morning curled quietly into the shadow of the rhythm of Edgar's breathing.

The sun was shining through the blinds and squarely into Leota's eyes when she awoke. She could hear the sound of Edgar and Richmond arguing in loud whispers in the kitchen.

"Well now, Richmond, it's just the simplest thing in the world. You put the coffee in the basket . . . one scoop per cup . . . then you put the little basket on this skinny little stand and the whole 'shabang' goes right in the coffee pot filled with water right up to this little mark here on the side of the pot that says, eight cups," Edgar ranted.

"Now, when I get back from filling up the Dodge with gas . . . which you ain't chipped in on yet, I'd like to have a cup of coffee too considering you drank the first pot I made whilst I was in the shower. You know, it's kinda funny Leota sleepin' in like this . . . it's not like her," Edgar said, scratching his wavy hair and losing thought of the bantering he had going with Richmond.

Leota leaned against the door jam to the kitchen watching Edgar's back

. "Well, I'm up now, thanks to you two," she said, "and you might as well take Richmond with you to get that gas. I'd rather make the coffee myself than try to digest any brew either one of you could cook up. Go on now, it's gettin' on up in the morning and I'd like to see the mornin' colors on the countryside."

Edgar took one look at Leota and knew he was stuck with Richmond for awhile. The two of them shuffled out the door in search of gasoline with Richmond nagging along behind Edgar saying . . .

"I knew you was gonna wake Leota up in you didn't quit talking so dadgum loud about that coffee. Hey, you know Edgar, we oughta stop off at the icehouse and grab a couple of sixes for the cooler box while we're out . . . and I could use me one of those caps like you got to keep the sun outta my eyes."

Leota could hear Edgar's voice fading into the parking lot . . .

"Oh, Richmond, would you just shut the hell up? Even I know you can't buy beer in this town till noon and I ain't a-gonna spend all mornin' out shoppin' for a hat to fit your big 'ole head. . . Hey, did you see that look Leota gave you? Gonna be a hell of a day. . . ."

Leota heard the car doors slam on the Dodge ending the chance to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Leota and Cora were packed and ready to hit the road when the men returned. Cora, with her wing tipped sunglasses on and Leota cartin' the road map. The four of them piled into the Dodge, women in the backseat, the men in the front, with Edgar balancing a coffee cup in one hand and Leota giving directions from the back. It was a dry, clear day with the temperature already pushing ninety-five degrees as they wheeled onto the highway heading north for Hobbs, New Mexico. They were a quartet of sorts, each one singing their own harmony lines, out looking at America together.

They arrived in Carlsbad just after one o'clock where Edgar discovered that they had to wind around a mountain for forty-five minutes just to reach the entrance to the caverns. Edgar patted the dashboard of the Dodge every few minutes hoping his affections would keep it from over heating.

The next tour through the caverns didn't start until three, so Edgar and Leota sat out on the hood of the Dodge while Richmond and Cora went in search of souvenirs. The air was cool of Autumn there in the mountains and since it was the tail end of the tourist season the whole place seemed to be theirs. It was Edgar's long awaited time of grace with Leota's hand nestled in his. The wind was a wall of silences he'd kept inside. The wind was steadfast and greedy tusseling Leota's hair. It was an immortal whistling its own complaints in Edgar's ear.

"Let's talk for a spell, Leota," Edgar began. "We never seem to talk much anymore . . . hell, I've never been good at bringing you bad news . . . most times I just kept the bad things to myself and they went away."

"Well, I s'pose I've always done the same . . . no sense to make somethin' outta what might be nothin'," Leota sighed, resting her head on Edgar's shoulder.

"But, this time it is somethin', Babe . . . it won't go away this time. For the past six months, I've been in and out of that Brackenridge hospital so many times that I've considered becoming a tour guide down there. All that time foolin' around with this treatment or that and thinking all would be well someday . . . but it ain't so Leota . . . there ain't gonna be any more treatments . . . they say it's too late.

"What I'm saying to ya, Babe, is that I'm dying here. You gotta understand that I've fought this thing, this cancer thing that I've dreamed of pulling out of my body with my own bare hands . . . I've fought it fair and square . . . but it doesn't play fair and I've lost now . . . battle's over . . . time to just take what's left. Shoot, I guess I always knew I didn't have a chance but I didn't want to face that . . . it was a selfish thing not facing the truth. But we've got to make these plans for you now . . . there's things I've done to make sure you're settled before I go . . . I wanna go in peace knowing I did the best by you that I could. Hell, there ain't a thing I regret 'cept leavin' you here alone. Lovin' you was all that I ever wanted . . . God knows I'd like to see our Julie's kids grow . . . that little one, little Kerry . . . looks just like her Daddy . . . acts just like my own Leota . . . but they're bonuses to this life 'cuz my life was the two of us . . . lovin' you . . . God, I hope I loved you well."

There was silence then. Leota couldn't find words when she was crying and for her there was just too much silence everywhere. There had always been Edgar. That was all to life; just Edgar.

When the tour started up Edgar and Leota decided they'd rather stay topside to look at the mountains. They sent a puzzled Richmond on his way, with Cora clamped to his arm, down into the Caverns. The thought of seeing Edgar underground had made Leota's stomach queezy . . . he would be there soon enough. There was no need to send him there alive.

Richmond and Cora returned from the tour with Richmond babbling on about stalactites and stalagmites and Cora correcting him on which one grew up from the ground and which one grew down from the ceiling of the cavern. Both of them had forgotten the correct answer by the time they'd driven back to Hobbs where the four of them spent the night.

Edgar spent the better part of the next day in Midland visiting his brother, Sam, while Leota sat on Cora's sofa crying herself into hysterics. Richmond was beside himself trying to calm Leota. He'd always thought her such a tough little woman and never in his lifetime did he expect to see her shed a tear. Cora finally sent him out to wash the sidewalks down with the garden hose but he merely stood in one spot spraying the water into the dirt until he stood ankle deep in a mud puddle.

It was their last waltz across the prairies of West Texas together as a quartet. In every way it had been the same as every other adventure they'd had except this was to be the last one and it's always that last waltz you recall the best when the music stops and the harmony ends.

It was Halloween night, a month later, that Leota and Edgar stood watching the dusk on their screened in porch in the back of the house. Julie's birthday was tomorrow and Leota and Edgar had a special dinner that night to celebrate. Julie and her husband, Jeff, had gone off to the picture show downtown, leaving the children with Leota and Edgar.

An old black cat had shown up at their house last week and the kids had named it Spooky since it had arrived so close to Halloween. Leota stood there holding the cat in her arms and listening for the children inside playing Monopoly. The little one wasn't old enough to play and Leota fretted over her getting caught between the older boy and girl who would inevitably end up in a wrestling match. Those two could get into the damnedest fights over playing Monopoly.

"Edgar, next year we ought to take those kids up to see Yellowstone Park . . . 'member when we went up there with Richmond and Cora back in fifty? Julie and Jeff never take those kids anywhere and that'd be a trip they'd never forget," Leota said, stroking the fur of Spooky.

"Now, Leota . . . I don't see any point to humoring yourself with these plans you keep making for us in the future. We've just got these times here in our home to hold on to now . . . let's not dream it away . . . let's enjoy these times we have here now. If you spend these last months busy makin' plans for things that ain't never gonna happen then you're gonna wonder what they were for when I'm gone," Edgar replied.

Leota couldn't cry anymore. The time had taken the will away and she shuddered in the early moonlight with anger and contempt for her own frailties.

"You listen to me, Edgar. God can take you, life itself can leave you but you cannot kill my dreams of you . . . you can't have my dreams. I will always dream and plan for you . . . even when you're gone, so don't tell me not to dream. Life itself will deny me enough and I'll have nothing without the shelter of those dreams of you . . . they may not be real but they're mine," Leota said, letting the cat slip from her arms.

The first blue norther had blown in that day. Edgar's hands were cold as ice on Leota's cheeks but his lips were the warmth she had always known. They were the only lips she had ever embraced other than her own. Their taste was as individual as the years they'd spent in unity. They were just two people forever to be single in existence as they stood in that cold night air listening to the screams of their grandchildren in the throws of some heated wrestling match inside.

"I love you, Leota."

"I love you, too, Edgar . . . but it's still your turn to go in there an' knock heads," Leota said.

Edgar entered the dining room just in time to rescue 'States Avenue' from the floor furnace. He promptly sent three bawling kids scrambling off to bed. The little one, Kerry, tip-toed back into the living room to crawl up in Edgar's lap while Leota washed dishes in the kitchen. Leota found them both sound asleep when she finished. She left them there and went to bed alone. Edgar awoke in the darkness and gently carried the child back to her pallet on the floor. Leota felt him slide in to be beside her just before dawn. She meant to speak. There was so much she wanted to say but fear had taken hold of her and she had always thought that only fear can speak before the heart and the heart should always be the first to speak for itself. So, it was in silence that they both drifted into sleep with the cold of a gray morning surrounding them.

There were days when Leota would forget that Edgar was dying. She would carry on her daily business in her usual ways. These were Edgar's favorite days though he himself was never free from remembrance. His thoughts became frantic and his movements slowed as each objective became a task too consuming of his time. The future became a longing for one day without pain and the future was never so close to him as the life within' Leota's green eyes.

He lived on through the winter, surprising everyone by holding out till the middle of March. It snowed twice that year, in January. It was an unheard of occurrence for Austin, Texas.

Julie and Jeff had moved back to Austin in December. Edgar took the children down to the capitol grounds to build snowmen when it snowed. The oldest girl, Ethel, was afraid of him and it disturbed him that she would cry and carry on whenever he came near her. Leota thought the child could sense that he was dying and was afraid to get close to death. Edgar simply thought the child odd and kept his distance.

Richmond and Cora came to visit around the first of February with Richmond behind the wheel of a brand new 1956 Chevrolet. He took Edgar out for a drive the second day of the visit and they'd hardly left the driveway before Edgar struck the conversation.

"Richmond . . . ya know, I've sort of mistreated you all these years. Hell, if it came right down to it, I guess you're prob'ly the best darn friend I've ever had. If I hadn't had you around to pick on all these years I might've gone crazy a long time ago. I hope you understand what I'm sayin' here now . . . it just wouldn't be right for me to drop dead with you never knowin' how I really felt," Edgar said.

Richmond began to cry. He hadn't cried in years. In fact, the last time he could recall crying had been over some argument with Edgar over the proper procedure for changing a tire. He'd known all along how Edgar felt towards him. Hell, you don't subject yourself to such ribbings for nothing and he actually enjoyed being the dunce. It was just a game to Richmond. This day to day living where each person took a role and then played that same role against one another day in and day out until the game was over. Richmond knew that game was over but he couldn't seem to stop playing. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried his best to continue listening as he shifted his eyes back and forth to the rear view mirror.

"Richmond, do you still have the rod and reel I gave you back in forty-eight? You know that was my favorite rig . . . caught a many of bass out on the Perdernales with that rig. I only gave it to you 'cuz you'd always admired it so," Edgar said.

Richmond was too upset to be tactful and lie about the matter. He replied, "I lost that thing years ago . . . back when we moved to Odessa it got lost in the shuffle. . . . Hell, I never knew it was your favorite. . . . Why didn't cha tell me then?"

"I figured . . . so, ya lost the goddamn thing . . . I give you my best rod and reel and you prob'ly just couldn't wait to go on off to Odessa and lose the damn thing. I hope you ain't plannin' on losing my Leota like you lost the best damn rig ever made . . ." Edgar shouted.

"Edgar, come on now . . . it was just a dadgum fishin' pole. . . . I promised Cora I wouldn't argue with you this visit. Hell, we ain't got that much time to spend together and I know you ain't feelin' so hot these days. I came to see you off . . . that's the argument . . . now ain't it . . . comin' here to see you go. And I keep thinking it'd be better for everyone if it was me who was goin' 'stead of you. Hell, I ain't never done anything right in my whole life 'cept maybe marryin' Cora and that ain't been right for her," Richmond cried, slapping at the stirring wheel.

As they were pulling back into the driveway, Edgar grumbled under his breath, "You drove seven goddamn hours over here just to feel sorry for your nit-wit self!"

"What'd ya say, Edgar?" Richmond asked.

"I said, I can't believe you lost that damn rig, Richmond."

Edgar woke on the 10th of March knowing he couldn't get himself out of bed. The cancer had become so heavy inside of him and he was just plain tired of hauling it around. Leota called the hospital for an ambulance and sent the young granddaughter, Kerry, who'd come to spend the night with them, next door to the neighbor's house. The first thing Edgar did when he was set up in his hospital room was to call Richmond and ask him to come over from Odessa. Cora had to drive. Richmond had to have her stop the car every few miles for him to get out and throw up.

Then they had those final days, the hands to be held, the questions they let go unanswered. Edgar's time was spent in reflection while Leota bathed in the image of the loss itself.

Edgar's spirits stayed amazingly high. Julie even managed to sneak that little Kerry up into the hospital room for a few moments before the nurse came in to send her out.

The morphine sent him places he'd never been before and would never go again. On the fifth day, Edgar forgot he was in a hospital bed and asked Leota if she'd like to go dancing. . . . Maybe catch a little Peck Kelley on piano and be-bop the night away out at the Skyline Club.

He said, "Now Leota . . . just close your eyes and we'll go. . . . I can see us dancin' when I close my eyes."

Leota closed her eyes and sure enough she could see the two of them out there dancin'. They would always be dancin' together like that whenever her eyes would close . . . just her and Edgar out on the dance floor together in her dreams.

When Leota opened her eyes, Edgar was gone. His hand was so still and the chill of it made her recall his icy touch back in October when they stood on the porch in the cold of the first blue norther of the season.

Leota never would get to see the Carlsbad Caverns. Richmond and Cora went back once in sixty but Leota just couldn't bring herself to go. It was a long bus ride out to Odessa and she could waltz that prairie only once in her lifetime.