Free The Last Kind Word by David Housewright Page A

did?”
    â€œHe’s always standing at parade rest.”
    â€œYou don’t miss much, do you, Dyson? After he retired from the army, they gave him a management position at the paper mill. They hired him to systematically lay off the workforce so they wouldn’t get their hands dirty. He hated doing it, just hated it, but he was used to following orders. He became terribly depressed. It didn’t help that since he was the man handing out the pink slips, people held him personally responsible for what was happening. He was the face of the company; people didn’t know whom else to blame. When he finished the job, the company fired him, too—fired him in an e-mail. This is a man who’s known structure his entire life. Now he’s adrift.”
    â€œIsn’t that just too damn bad for Roy?”
    â€œYou’re not a particularly compassionate character, are you, Dyson?”
    â€œCompassion has its downside. For example, it makes you perfectly willing to forgive Roy for abusing his wife.”
    â€œI didn’t mean it that way. I meant—it’s hard sometimes knowing what to do.”
    â€œThink so? If Jill were my cousin, I’d know what to do. I’d beat the sonuvabitch to death for hitting her, and I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass what drove him to it. But as you suggest, I’m not particularly virtuous.”
    â€œYou’re a violent man.”
    â€œOn the contrary. There are few people as laid-back as I am. I just happen to live in a world where violence is always an option, sometimes the only option. You live in that world now, too, whether you care to admit it or not. You’re carrying guns into the grocery store tomorrow, aren’t you? Tell me, JoEllen, if it all goes bad, if someone gets between you and the door, will you shoot him? Will you take his life just so you can pay your bills? Will you become a killer?”
    â€œWould you?”
    â€œI don’t have to make that decision. I’m not the one going into the grocery store, you are.”
    Josie stared into the darkness for a long time without speaking. The moon continued its slow arch across the sky. There were crickets and frogs and the rustling of leaves in the wind, and when she shifted her weight I heard the moan of wooden planks beneath her feet. Finally she turned and moved toward the door of the cabin.
    â€œGood night,” she said.
    â€œSweet dreams.” I didn’t mean anything by it, yet the words made her pause just the same.
    â€œThis is only temporary,” Josie said. “Just until things get better.”
    I didn’t know if she was speaking to me or to herself. A moment later she disappeared inside the cabin.
    *   *   *
    I slept surprisingly well. When I woke, the cabin was filled with activity. Someone said, “Where the fuck is Dyson?” Skarda and the old man stepped out onto the deck. “There you are,” Skarda said. I was sitting in a lounge chair; the blanket I had retrieved after Josie went to bed was wrapped around me.
    The old man shook his head like he was embarrassed for me. “You afraid we were gonna jump you in your sleep?” he asked.
    I pulled the blanket away with one hand, giving him a good look at the Glock that I held in the other. “The thought never occurred to me,” I said.
    I made my way into the cabin. Roy and Jimmy were talking in hushed tones inside one of the bedrooms. Josie was in the kitchen. She was wearing boots, baggy coveralls, and a sweatshirt; her auburn hair was tucked beneath a baseball cap. She said “Good morning” in a quiet voice and offered coffee when I approached. I took a sip. It was strong enough to bring a dinosaur to its knees.
    â€œMmmm,” I hummed.
    â€œMost people don’t like my coffee,” Josie said.
    â€œWimps,” I said. “Tell me, what are you made up for?”
    â€œI don’t want witnesses to know