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

His eyes land on the mattress.
Roy has not moved since Rick entered the room.
He stands slack-jawed, watching his brother, really needing
to pee, feeling helpless, incapable of defending himself or his
property, both real and intellectual. As he looks on, expecting
the inevitable, he bates his breath, counts the seconds, really
really needs to pee, and wishes his brother would get an
aneurysm or whatever and die.
Noticing where Rick’s India ink eyes have traveled and
landed, he feels compelled to do or say something.
This is what he comes up with:
“Hiya, Rick. It’s you.”
Rick snorts.
“Nooo, it’s not me, Roy. It’s a fucking impersonator.”
squeak
Rick sits on the stained mattress, bounces to test its
springiness.
squeaky squeak
“Figure you forgot to invite me, so I invited myself. You’re
cool with that, right bro?”
Roy nods woodenly. He knew Rick would find him—knew as
a certainty he would—he always does.
As certain as rain in Seattle.
It had only been a matter of time.
Time’s up, Roy.
“—after all, we’re such a close-knit family, right?”
Roy doesn’t like where this is going.
“Sure, Rick.”
Rick’s nodding head reminds Roy of those little dogs with
spring-loaded necks people put in the back window of their cars.
“You hurt my feelings, Roy.”
Roy frowns.
“I. I’m sorry, Rick. How’d I do that?”
Rick nails him with a scalp-tingling glare.
“You forgot our deal.”
Roy washboards his forehead.
“Deal?”
2 2 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY