He watched them all disappear. Gradually his breath quieted, and his heart slowed from its wild pace.
The ground was still muddy from the rains, but he sat down anyway.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere. Ever again. He put his head down on his knee.
“That was a damn fool thing to do.” His father sat down on the dirt beside him.
“I don't care. I don't care.” He was crying now, crying so hard he could barely breathe.
His father pulled Jess over on his lap as though he were Joyce Ann.
“There. There,” he said, patting his head. “Shhh. Shhh.”
“I hate her,” Jess said through his sobs. “I hate her. I wish I'd never seen her in my whole life.”
His father stroked his hair without speaking. Jess grew quiet.
They both watched the water. Finally his father said, “Hell, ain't it?”
It was the kind of thing Jess could hear his father saying to another man.
He found it strangely comforting, and it made him bold.
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