One Last Thing About Sam
cough again. The joint rolled onto a lower rock closer to the crashing waves. “Jesus,” she said, looking around with glassy eyes. “Those buildings are like celestial stairways…” Mickey chuckled. “Hey, Mickey, focus!” Eddie said, dropping down onto the lower rock. “Your brother, beard, how long?” “He wants to know if your brother has ever killed anyone,” I added. Mickey frowned under his Cubs hat. Sarah continued to stare off and mumble to herself, but Eddie and I understood Mickey’s quick temper well enough to recognize the twitching muscles in his cheek. “Are you serious right now?” he stood up and swung a fist at the darkness. “Come on, screw you guys. Sam’s my big brother, dad, and fucking mother. And all you want to know is if he killed someone?” “Hey, hey, Mick,” I said. “Odds we drop it?” He gave a quick glance to each of us, first meeting my eyes, then Sarah who was running her fingers from her brown roots to the bright red ends, and then finally at Eddie who had picked up the joint and put it to his mouth. With a slight
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