Walter was walking down the road, humming a song from the fifties. His shoes were coming apart and he could feel the cold air leaking in around his feet. A small terrier dog came running at him full blast, barking frantically. It tried to bite his ankles, but couldn't get a grip. Walter paid it no mind, and, after a few blocks, it gave up.
“Walter!” called a voice from a nearby house. “Hey Walter - you got a cigarette?”
Walter felt in his shirt pocket to see if he had any left. “My last three. Want one?” he replied. He could see Vernon, his cousin, coming down the steps toward him. “Reckon I’ll have to walk around there to the store now," Walter grumbled as they both lit up.
“It ain’t but a minute. Want me to walk down there with you?” Vernon suggested.
Walter, a thin, big-boned, white-haired, sixty-something man, agreed. And so here they went. Vernon was burly, barrel-chested, easy to anger, and quick to fight. He had long black hair that needed a good washing, and the stubble of a beard. His intense black eyes made him look dangerous. Dogs and children shied away from him.
“You been to the woods this year?” Walter inquired as they trudged along.
“Naw. My truck broke down right when I had the notion to go,” Vernon answered.
“What’s wrong with it?” Walter asked.
“Iffen I knew, I’d fix it!” Vernon spat angrily.
“Well, what’s it doing?” Walter pressed.
“Hit sputters and quits before I can get it started,” Vernon answered.
“Sounds like you need some of that carburetor cleaner,” suggested Walter.
“Reckon I could try that,” mused Vernon.
Pretty soon. Vernon asked for another cigarette. By the time they got to the store, Walter was out.
“We might as well get us some beer to go with them cigarettes,” Vernon hinted hopefully.
So Walter bought them a six pack of beer.
“I wisht you had got us some of that strong beer. These lights give me a headache,” Vernon complained.
So, Walter went back in the store and got some malt liquor.
“Hooee! Now you’re talking!” Vernon spouted happily.
By the time they reached the end of the block, three young guys that helped Vernon on the boat sometimes, had bummed some more cigarettes and a couple of beers as well. And when they approached Vernon’s house, most of the cigarettes and beers were gone. Then, Vernon’s girlfriend met them out in the road in front of his house, wanting a beer and a cigarette. Walter gave her his last beer and cigarette, wondering what he was going to do now. “Well,” Vernon commented, “next time you head out to the store, stop by and I’ll walk with you!”
“Thanks,” replied Walter as he wadded up the empty pack of cigarettes, “but I think it’s time I quit smoking!”
