the flarings into meanness and ugliness of their children, as if theyâd already left childhood behind.
Each of the four would know the worst about himself, but it would be put aside, it would be hidden the whole time they were together, and almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. A hint of it would come into the eyes of each of them from time to time.
Still, for a moment they would know well-being. They would know well-being is a lie. They would know it is desperate and sorrowful, but they would not bother about this.They would hold glasses and drink, speaking swiftly and easily and meaninglessly.
âI wonder if youâd tell me about Dade,â Evan said.
âHeâs
your
brother,â Walz said.
âI mean, as a farmer.â
âWell, I thought I was the worldâs worst,â Walz said, âbut I suppose Dadeâs champ now. Still, weâve got no kick coming. Dadeâs doing all right, and so am I. Weâve had three rotten years in a row, but if we havenât gotten rich, we havenât gotten poor or gone broke, either. If your place is paid forâand Dadeâs is, and so is mineâwell, no matter how rotten things get, you canât lose. Getting a place paid for is the tough thing. Once thatâs done, though, itâs a pretty good life. We get bored, but who doesnât?â
âWhatâs Dade do?â
âHow do you mean?â
âDoes he get out in the vineyard and work?â
âHe helps prune the vines,â Walz said. âThereâs about six weeks of pruning for four men on sixty acres of vineyard. Dade hires three men, and works with them. I mean, he doesnât stop in the middle of the day to take a nap or anything like that just because he owns the place. He starts when they start, stops for lunch when they do, eats with them, and stops when they stop. I know he likes to prune the vines. Pruning time can be anywhere from early December to late February. He starts on January first every year. He works alone that day. The next day the three workers join him.â
âHe
does
work on the vineyard, then?â Evan said.
âOh, yes,â Walz said. âWhen I said he was the worldâs worst, I meant he doesnât do any of the things the boys justout of agricultural college do. I once asked him why he didnât get the weeds out of his irrigation ditches and he said he liked them. Did you have the idea Dade
never
worked?â
âHe never cared much for work,â Evan said. âHe had a few jobs as a kid, but thatâs all.â
âOn a vineyard itâs different,â Walz said. âHeâs his own boss. Isnât that about as good as it can get for any of us?â
âYes, I suppose so,â Evan said. âWhat about wine?â
âThat marketâs shot,â Walz said. âItâs been shot for years. We donât have wine makers. We have chemists. They make wine the way shampooâs made.â
âNo, I meant does Dade make wine? Do
you?â
âI make a few gallons every year, just for the fun of it,â Walz said. âI donât know whether Dade does or not.â After a moment he said, âWhat do you think? Is it a good life?â
âI donât know,â Evan said quickly. âI suppose it
could
be. I suppose it could
somehow
be. I donât know. It always depends on something or other, and the pity of it is that either you donât know what this thing is, or if you
do
know, you know it involves someone else, who must help but wonât, or canât.â
âHas Dade read any of your books?â Walz said. âThe reason I ask is that I started to speak to him about them a couple of times, but I didnât get anywhere. Is it because he hasnât read them?â
âThere are only three,â Evan said. âI donât think itâs because he hasnât read them. I think itâs because
Neal Shusterman and Eric Elfman
Bob Woodward, Scott Armstrong