volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

As stated earlier, Roy possesses but two keys. His life is that
simple. One key opens the door of the building he inhabits, the
other key opens the door of the apartment he rents.
His apartment: almost warm and mostly dry.
From the bus stop he races through the downpour towards
his building. In places along the sidewalk, pigeons band together
in dark, feathery huddles. Their discussions range from Ibises
to Ibsen. They turn as one at the slapslap of Roy’s approaching
beat-up weatherproof boots and scurry out of his path, quickly
reassembling after his passage to coo and prattle about human
rudeness, an ongoing topic of avian discontent.
Roy sprints up the steps to the covered stoop of his building.
Although the simplicity of his life may be symbolized by a
reduced number of keys, this in no way dismisses the fact that
those two keys may just as readily be lost or stolen as a larger set
decorated with an imported car’s fob.
Roy pats his pants and raincoat pockets in search of his two
keys.
Rain pounds the evacuated, windswept streets of Georgetown.
Even the coffee shop across from his building is closed. A ghastly
dread floods his system. Just beyond this thick, wooden door lies
warmth of a sort and a mattress stuffed with cash. He can’t have
lost his keys—he can’t! He doesn’t want to sleep outside in the
cold, outside in the rain, outside with brooding pigeons.
He is relieved beyond words to discover that the beaded chain
that serves to link his two keys together has come undone and
that the keys have settled apart from one another in different
regions of his pocket.
His hands shake—as much from cold as from fear—as he
jams the end of his outside door key into the lock’s metal sleeve
and snicks the deadbolt open. With a deeply-felt gratitude, he
pushes into the freshly-swept, dry vestibule.
He is glad to be out of the wind, out of the rain, and away
from pigeons.
He shakes out his raincoat, sending a spray of water onto the
faded, flocked walls. The tile floor is now freshly-marred with
mud from his beat-up boots.
Oblivious, he thumps up the broad, carpeted stair.
10 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY