The black suit is stiff and shiny, but it’s required wearing.
My old man was big shit in this town.
Everybody is here.
Reporters, the Mayor, even that basketball player.
All of them lining up to tell me how sorry they are for my loss.
He was a great man, your father.
He’ll be missed.
He’s gone to a better place.
The women go milk-eyed and pat my arm, the men give the hearty hand-pump and stare into my face like I’m in on the joke.
My old man, pillar of the community, solid gold son-of-a-bitch who got away with murder.