A normal gig! He mowed a lawn, and managed to even get the weed-eater going. He wished he'd got the call before the temperatures hit triple digits, but you can't look a gift horse in the mouth. He made a hundred bucks. He couldn't wait to tell Erin.

Kurt Vonnegut, in quoting a relative, said we should always "If this isn't nice, what is?" While the urge to celebrate the good moments was palpable, Ry instantly regretted it. Remember kids, the universe is listening. Far from indifferent, the universe is honestly kind of a dick.

Which is why he didn't feign surprise at the red and blue flashing lights behind him. Ry pulled over and lowered his window. He kept his hands on the wheels. He knew how nervous everyone on the other side of the thin blue line could be.

The officer put his hands on his belt and ambled to the driver's side window.

"Ry! Hey boy, we just got done kicking your wife's ass in donkey basketball."

"That's great, officer."

"Hey, we've known each other for years. Call me Officer Michaels."

"Yes, sir."

"Where were you beaded in such a hurry?"

"Just going home."

"Look at me."

"What?"

"Look. At. Me. When I'm talking, basic respect, kid."

Ry sighed and looked in the dark lenses and sneering face. He got a speech. He gave the officer his license and registration and sat for fifteen minutes. Then he got a ticket. Sixty-six in a sixty.

"You were swerving a bit I'm pretty sure, gonna add that too."

Ry took the citation. He resisted the urge to crumple it up and took a breath. "Officer, any follow-up on Jackson?"

"Jackson?"

"Meriwether? I called you guys about a wellness check?"

"He is not well, I can tell you that. Crazier than a shithouse rat."

"But did you go check on him?"

"If you're so worried, you go check on him."

Ry thought about the figure, the tall waving thing with the warbled voice. "I did."

"Then we're done here. Watch your speed. Pay your fucking ticket."

"Got it."

"Now, what do we say?" The officer asked, smiling.

"What?"

"What. Do. We. Say?"

"Um... thank you?"

"You're welcome."

The cop slapped the top of the car and returned to his cruiser. Right on schedule, Ry thought. Disasters in $500 and $1000 increments. Occasionally a car wreck or cancer, but usually a few hundred bucks is just enough to erode hope.