Dairy Queen Days

  Then Cicero cleared his throat and spoke up. “Phinizy was a good listener,” he said. “People went trooping in and out of his place at all hours of the day and night with all manner of baggage and he always had time to listen. He had what some folks might call some bad habits, but I don’t think they really amount to much in the big picture.”

  They pondered that for a moment, then Trout opened the Bible he had brought and read the passage from Job that Joe Pike had suggested. “With the ancient is wisdom; and in the length of days understanding.”

  “Amen to that,” Cicero said. Then he turned to Alma. “Anything you want to say, ‘hon?”

  “I wish I had known him better,” she said simply. “I wish I had…” then her voice trailed off.

  They all stood there for awhile longer and then one of the men from the funeral home said, “Y’all want to stay while we finish up here?”

  “No,” Cicero said. “We’ve got a plane to catch.”

  “I’ll stay,” Trout said.

  As he walked home later, he found himself thinking about Great Uncle Phinizy and smiling. Phinizy had seen the wreck and it was a doozie.

  Cicero and Alma would be in Bermuda by now. They would probably stay for a good while, Cicero had said. Would Trout be okay while they were gone? Of course, he assured. He was used to fending for himself. There were chicken pot pies in the freezer. And of course there was the Dairy Queen. He didn’t want Cicero and Alma to worry. When he returned to the parsonage from the cemetery he changed into jeans, packed a few things, and made his call.

  “Sure,” Eugene said without hesitation. “Come ahead. For as long as you like.”

  It would be dark again as he rode. But that was all right. This time, he knew the way.

  THE END