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I pay and go outside. It’s a cool night, moon up over the air base. Past the newspaper box and the propane tank, I tuck around the corner and listen for Ramon.
In my vest’s inner pocket is a Taurus 9mm. A gift from my daughter. She hoped that if I had a gun, I’d worry less about her. She was wrong. Not that I’ve ever used the gun. I told Larry I never would. He didn’t believe me. He shrugged and said, “Just a matter of time.”