It’s nothin to me what he wears, he said.

The fat man began to mumble to himself. World War Two, he was saying. Then more, wet with spit, indecipherable. It sounded like he had fought and died for his country. Edgewater felt a wire pull taut, hum with ominous tension, vibrate, the pitch rise. He laughed softly to himself.

What?

Nothing.

What was you laughing about?

Nothing to you.

Was you laughing at me, shitface?

No, Edgewater said. To his amazement the man had taken on an uncanny resemblance to Claire’s ex-father-in-law. There was the same beefy face, slack middle, mean little animal eyes. Some doppelganger, occult double bent on revenge. Queer out-of-body projection seeking him out by arcane divination here in the Shady Grove.

I was laughing at something I just thought of. It had nothing to do with you.

What?

Why hellfire. Nothing. Everything. What does it matter?

You silly son of a bitch.

Edgewater picked up his mug and cigarettes. He pocketed the Luckies and moved farther up the bar. Let me have another draft, he said.

Maybe you ought to drink up and move on, the barkeep told Edgewater.

Move on where?

Move on wherever you want. It’s a wide world out there.

I’m waiting on somebody.

The barkeeper’s cloth made little circles, there were black hairs on the barkeep’s fingers, the bar gleamed with his industry. Maybe you ought to wait somewheres else.

The hell with that. Let him wait somewheres else. He started this mess, not me. All I’m doing is drinking a beer.

Don’t fuck with Ed, the barkeep said. He’s bad news.

He damn sure is, Edgewater said. But I’m hoping it’s for somebody else. He arose, slid the bottle back across the bar, began to gather his change. This is the damnest place I’ve ever been in.

The fat man had gotten up too, some grotesque host seeing his guest to the door.

How about you fuckers? Ed asked. He was leaning forward into Edgewater’s face. Edgewater could smell him, see the cratered pores of his skin, veins like tiny exploded faultlines in his nose, feel his angry pyorrheac breath.

While I was over there across the waters fightin and dyin you fuckers was over here drinkin all our whiskey and screwin our wives. What about that?

Hellfire, Edgewater said. I wasn’t even old enough for that war. How about leavin me the hell alone?

Fought and died for you fuckers.