16SHE’D LEFT, DRIVEN AWAY, driven that pistachio Pinto loaded to the roof out the driveway, past the for sale sign, down Deepwoods Drive, away, forever. He’d stood there watching, barely caressing Josh’s ears as the dog pressed his head into Bobby’s leg. She had returned only to file the Dissolution of Marriage petition at the county courthouse and to lay claim to every remaining decent household item they owned (or still owed on). Her last words to him were, “I can’t see you as a divorcé.” That lay in his ears, he standing there seeing not Red, not even himself, but Jimmy Pellegrino on that big Harley that he handled like a dirt bike, seeing Jimmy Pellegrino and thinking, for this he got greased.
Then he’d turned, gone in. It had gotten dark but he did not remember the dusk, only the dar
