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

“He’s not ’spozed to.”
Since it’s free to do so, Pete stares some more.
“And?”
“That wasn’t a work song.”
“No.” The freely-staring Pete tends to agree. “Wasn’t. Was
a Cole Porter song. Was a joke.” He blinks. “Know what satire
is?”
Roy knots his forehead.
“Sort’ve. Maybe.”
Again, Pete blinks.
Roy’s eyes are like tiny deserts whistling with raging
sandstorms.
“Know what a cliché is? Or a trope? Or a metaphor?”
Roy is sinking fast, headpiece filled with straw. He never went
to school, or sat glued to books, and this old guy—who he hoped
would be his friend—probably despises him for his dumbness.
Meanwhile, Pete—a man of vast worldliness, brimming with
insight into the cybernetic confluences we call human beings—
smiles.
“You need an edumacation’s what you need, buckaroo.”
If one can be said to nod glumly, then that is how Roy nods
now.
“An’ I’m jess th’ dude what can git’er done.”
Roy looks up as quickly as he dare (fearful his head might
snap off). His convulsing heart leaves skid tracks on his karma.
“Really?”
Pete shrugs.
Why not? It’s not as if, not like—
Not like he’s got something better to do.
Roy seems a willing student. He took to the Sons fast enough,
didn’t he?
Besides, Pete likes Roy. Likes his name.
It’ll mean hard work and long hours. It will. But it’ll be fun
to watch a bunch’ve movies with someone.
Someone who’s never seen, or apparently done, anything.
Someone who’s never even smoked weed.
He studies Roy a long moment before he says,
“Really.”
2 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY