Rainbow
Richard Dokey Frank Armitage was no stranger to death. He had watched his father die. He had watched his mother die. His friend Robert Carmichael had just died and his friend Jerry McGee, only six months ago. He had attended funerals, quite a few funerals lately. Friends were like leaves in October, and here he was, holding on, in November. “You have to,” he told Barney Schlegel over the chessboard. “Is that realistic, though?” asked Barney, who was a fatalist. “What are you saying? What’s your alternative?” Barney shrugged. He moved his rook to rook five. “It isn’t a question of alternative,” he said, “since you don’t have a choice. So it’s all preparation.” He tapped his head. “Shouldn’t you be ready? Checkmate.” Frank looked at the board. He looked at Barney’s face, which was empty, but benign. “What the hell?” Frank said. “That’s three times in a row.” “Your mind’s not on the game,” Barney said. “You’re not thinking.” “All right, then,” Frank said. “Anyway, I’ll see you at the dinner Thursday night.” That evening Frank thought. He thought about Jerry McGee. He thought about Bob Carmichael and
glassworks 54
Kenny Sottlemyer’s wife Marie, who had gone just three months before, falling like galactic debris onto the parking lot at Wal-Mart, burned up by the heart attack half way down, her head cracking against the black asphalt. He looked at his hands. They were good hands, strong hands. He had grown up in the country. He had dug vegetable gardens beside his father and mother. He had hoed weeds, cut wood. He had worked in the Dr. Pepper Bottling Company and in Colberg Boat Works during the summers from school. He had worked four hours a day, each day after class, to finish up at Berkeley when school was in session. He had played on the golf team. He was a trout fisherman. He made a fist and looked at the knuckles. True, he had not played golf in five years now, but it wasn’t that he could not play golf, and as for trout, for the first time, this last season, he had missed the yearly trip to Montana with his brother Ed, who had had a stroke in April. It was what Ed and he did together. He just could not bring himself to be in Montana without Ed. He went into the kitchen. He found a can of tuna in the pantry. He cut open the can. He held the lid against the tuna over the sink to drain the water and put the tuna