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

Roy watches Rick plummet towards the sidewalk, swallowed
by converging lines.
The crowd disburses, runs for safety from the mess a fallen
human makes.
As Roy watches his brother plummet, the fake background
spinning behind him, he wishes Rick had been a nicer person,
that they could have been buddies—
A cellphone rings.
Roy and his wishes.
Rick’s arms and legs are flung out.
Blue, blue sky. White, white clouds.
Someone taps Roy’s shoulder, hands him a cellphone.
The redhead turns to peer out the window at Roy who stands
alone on the rocking platform, who stands alone staring down at
the converging lines.
“He’s dead now,” she whispers into the phone, her voice like a
warm corner in which to nap. “You can get up.”
Roy opens his eyes and the sky stops spinning, and a
pinwheeling Rick with flung-out arms and legs stops falling, and
he stares instead into the ceiling that looks like a badly-stained
sheet holding a bowling ball, or like a boil in need of a lance.
2 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY