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

Roy has a problem with this.
“I, uh. I—”
Old Guy seems very casual about the whole thing, as if this is
something he does all the time.
Which, probably, it is.
“I.”
Roy knows from experience that if he holds his pee long
enough the burning sensation will subside and become a dull
ache he can live with for a while. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s not
life threatening—he hopes—and at any rate better than trying
to pee in a pot while standing in some guy’s bedroom and him
listening.
“Hello?”
Old Guy speaks.
“You still here?”
Roy, brought back to the so-called real world, nods in the
affirmative.
“Could’ve fooled me. You gonna pee, or not?”
Roy shakes his head in the negative.
“It went away.”
Old Guy scowls.
“Better not’ve gone away in my cushion.”
Roy whips his fringe of hair around.
“No, sir. It dint.”
Old Guy relaxes his grip on the gun and leans back to study
his prisoner.
A weedy silence grows between them.
Silence makes Roy nervous. Besides, he needs a distraction to
keep his mind off his burning bladder.
He blurts out:
“So—who are they?”
Old guy frowns.
“Who’re who?”
Young Guy thinks.
“Who you said.”
Old Guy shrugs.
“Mean th’ Sons?”
1 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY