Kellan began cutting his fingernails and then brought up a little story about how he and Jack had used to gather cigarette butts from the road in front of their house. “Remember how we’d get up early and say we were going hunting for golf balls in the ditch in front of our place and then along the back nine of the golf course?” he asked.
Jack nodded, sporting a tiny grin that also showed off the crows feet around his eyes.
“But we’d really just be looking for butts to smoke later.” He was smiling now, very amused by the memory. “Do you remember when we found a couple dozen butts, took them in back of the old house where we used to burn the trash, smoked them, and then Mr. Klipper caught us?”
Jack began laughing at that scene. “Yeah, I remember he ratted us out to Mom and Dad, and then Dad lined us up in the living room where he had brought a one by three board that was eight feet long. I seem to remember we blamed Sydney for the whole thing, saying it was all her idea, so Dad lined her up with us, which she protested so much about it that we wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. Then he laid one smack on us all at the same time, and I remember thinking I could barely feel it, but I didn’t want to say anything because then he would have made it hurt.”
“Yeah, that was rich,” Kellan said. “But you left out the part where Mr. Klipper asked us what the hell we were doing back there, and you just took a puff off your butt and said proudly, we’re smoking.”
“Oh, god, yeah, I do remember that. Remember he never said anything but just looked at us kind of funny and then left? I’ll bet he walked around the house and started laughing to himself all the way to tell Mom and Dad. I’ll bet they all got the biggest laugh out of that whole thing.”
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